Apparently, when you find out you're having a second child the same sex as the first child, it's a free for all for people to comment on how 'that's too bad,' and ask 'will you be trying for a third to get that [opposite sex child]?', and say 'tsk, tsk, I feel sorry for you/your husband [depending on if you are having two boys or two girls]'. (Minor aside and biology lesson for people who bring up the "is Chris disappointed?" line: it's his sperm that are determining this, so...) I know people with two boys get the same response and they are equally frustrated.
It's a bit shameful to reflect upon, but when I was pregnant with Carys, I talked about how I had hoped she would be a boy before I found out she was a she. I admit it, and I regret it now. I had my reasons, as shallow as they might be: I wanted any girls I had to have a big brother (something I'd ALWAYS wanted growing up), and I wanted a boy because of my history with loss. In an oft-used analogy, I'd been on the boy train with Caleb, and that train got derailed so suddenly and unexpectedly that there were still fantasies of the life I would have had with a boy swimming in my head: the nursery I would have designed, the little plaid shirts, the post-bath faux-hawks. I somehow felt like the spirit of the boy we'd lost would come back in the next, living boy and that I'd be able to get right back on that train and continue the journey I'd been on previously.
Of course, life doesn't work like that, and we didn't have a boy. We had a girl. And when I found out while pregnant that we were indeed having a girl, I quickly adjusted to the idea and never looked back. In reality, having a girl was probably the best thing that could have happened: she was a completely separate child from Caleb and not a replacement or reincarnation. It was unfair to the baby I was carrying to expect it to be a new Caleb, and it probably would have taken a while to get over that idea had it indeed been a boy. I could never imagine Carys not being Carys: she was exactly what we needed, the exact perfect first baby for us, the best child I could ever have hoped for, boy or girl. And she's a rough-and-tumble little girl who is obsessed with golf, loves mud, dirt, dinos, zombies, farts, and motorcycles AND love babies, dresses, nail polish, and helping me cook, so (not to brag) (totally bragging) but we completely got the best of both worlds.
[Super Side Note: this is why those "#allboy and #allgirl tags all over Instagram drive me nuts, even though I know they're meant innocently. Loving to play in the dirt isn't "all boy" - it's "all toddler." Climbing and running and jumping and being daring isn't reserved for just little boys. Dressing up or playing with a doll isn't something just little girls do - I know plenty of little boys who enjoy a good tiara now and then. I don't want Carys to ever stop enjoying the things she loves because she thinks they're for boys, and on the flip side would never want to insinuate a boy shouldn't love something typically considered girly.]
Though I thought I had a sex preference with Carys, with Baby Squish, I truly did not care. There are incredible things to be had either way. So when I found out it was a girl, I was ecstatic. I was (and am) absolutely in love with the idea of sisters, and think that the bond between two sisters can be like nothing else in the world. My sisters are some of my best friends, and my mom has the same bond with her sisters. And, you know, BONUS: I'd get to re-use all Carys's clothes. And damnit, she has cute clothes! Plus, I love saying "my girls" and "the girls." I truly could not be more excited to have welcomed our second little girl into the world. Although it'd be JUST LOVELY if the comments expressing disappointment on Chris's and sometimes my behalf would stop, since, you know, we're not disappointed. A family is not a perfect family only if it contains two parents and at least one child of each gender.
Will we ever have a third (or fourth or tenth)? I have no idea. I mean, holy cow, let me see how I do with two first. I might fall apart completely; who knows? Two might be my limit. But if I can handle two like I picture myself handling two (please let me handle two?!?!), then I could see trying to convince Chris to go for a third. Right now he's good with two, but maybe with enough, ahem, spirited debate I could get another one out of him. But right now? Two is perfect.
If we do go for three, I cannot even begin to imagine the comments that would happen should we find out that we were having another girl. I don't know yet if I'll have a preference, though I'm sure there would be some external pressure for a boy. But I wouldn't be having a third child to try for a boy, I'd be having a third child to have a third child. Novel idea, right?? If it was a girl, my first thought, I think, would be OMG THREE SISTERS HOW FUN! There might be a twinge of disappointment in realizing that I'd never get to raise a boy and that the door would be closed on that opportunity since I sincerely doubt we'd ever have four kids. So I would be sad at first about that, perhaps. And that's okay, I think - it's okay to mourn the closing of any door, as long as you don't do it at the expense of the other door behind you that DID open. It's complicated for me, I think, because I buried a son, but have never raised one. A re-do there, with a chance to finish what I once started, would be nice. But importantly, I understand now that it doesn't matter - your kid is going to be absolutely perfect either way and you'll love them completely. So if we decide to have a third, wayyyyyy into the future, we wouldn't be trying to have a boy; it'd be to have a third kid regardless of the sex. It's a 50/50 shot, after all.
But yeah. Don't feel the need to express sympathy that we have two amazing, gorgeous girls and are thrilled beyond belief with our family. We're pretty fricking happy. (Note: no one has done that on this blog, since blog readers are a sophisticated bunch, right? It's only happened in real life, to my face - which is almost worse!)
So apparently, Squish is trying to ruin my life. Well, not Squish so much, but her (my?) placenta.
Like with Carys, I failed my one-hour gestational diabetes test by just a few points. Having been down that road once before, I wasn't entirely surprised to have failed it. However, I expected it to go similarly as it did last time: pass the three hour, no problem. I actually felt BETTER this time, so I was sure I'd pass. Last time I felt faint and gross; this time I felt totally fine. Also, last time, Carys was measuring large the entire pregnancy; this time, the baby has been pretty average (I think 56th at the last growth scan?). I think overall I've been eating healthier, too. I don't follow the BEST diet, by far, but it's not completely terrible.
But this time I didn't pass the three-hour. I failed. I FAILED AT A TEST THAT ALLOWS ME TO EAT ICE CREAM. I FAILED A TEST THAT TAKES AWAY ALL THE GOODNESS JUST BEFORE HALLOWEEN AND THANKSGIVING. I am not a happy camper. Come Halloween, you'll be able to find me hiding from snack-size Reese's and M&Ms and Snickers under the bed. When Thanksgiving rolls around, I'll be spending the day in Canada, away from all the pumpkin and apple pies and, sob, whipped cream.
Of all the times to discover you have gestational diabetes, just before the holidays has to be the worst.
I had a two-year-old yelling in my ear when the doctor's office called with the results, but the gist of it appears to be that my pre-drink (fasting) blood sugar was fine. After the drink, they test your blood again at the 1 hour, 2 hour, and 3 hour mark. The blood sugar levels were too high the first two draws, but back to fine for the last draw. It sounded like they were just barely too high, but I didn't get the numbers (see: screaming toddler). It didn't matter, though, failing two of the three blood draws equals a big, fat FAIL.
Now I'm waiting for the diabetes center to call me so I can take a class...or something...again the toddler distracted me with her urgent desire to "talk to doctor on the phone!" (she was very upset I went to the doctor without her that morning, so the fact that I was now TALKING to the doctor without her was just a complete backstab) so I didn't catch it all. Google/friends tell me that I will have to follow a special diet and test my blood sugars multiple times a day. SO FUCKING AWESOME.
Not.
I know this is by far pretty much the least complicated of the myriad of complications you can have in pregnancy (as I well, well know) and tons of people fail and have to do all this, but it still bloody sucks.
I personally could not be more thrilled. While I hope to have the experience of raising a boy one day (kid three? Chris? you on board?), I was really happy to hear that Squish is a girl. I have two sisters who I love dearly, and I think the bond that two sisters can have is unlike anything else. Plus, you know, I get to use all of Carys's cute clothes again - and I have the added bonus that this one is due in the exact opposite season so I ALSO get to get new clothes for her! Win win!
I'm so excited to welcome our newest baby girl into the family in a few months, and to see our girls grow up together.
Today, I had my NT scan, which Squish passed with flying colors. NT measurement was 1.3, nasal bones were present and accounted for, brain was present and in the right place, stomach was there - and the kid was bouncing off the (uterine) walls. (I feel like I used that same joke with Carys at some point...) (I need new material.)
They also gave us a tentative sex guess. Already, I know, right!??! Are you ready?
Baby Squish is (probably) a.....
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.......Ha, yeah right. Not sharing that news yet. But I do know with 80% certainty. And I'm very excited. Although either way, I'd be thrilled, honestly. I absolutely adore my sister, and would love for Carys to have that bond, too. A brother and a sister are awesome (I have one! He's great!) but there's something special that sisters share that I don't think any other sibling set can match. However, I also would love a boy, because I eventually would love at least one of each, so it'd be wonderful to get that out of the way in case something prevents us from having a third.
I will say that I have always felt like I was going to have two girls and then a boy. On the other hand, I've been feeling boy with this one, because I had virtually NO first trimester symptoms (never puked, etc.) and the heart rate seems to be slower than what Carys had at around the same gestation.
So which wins? Dreams? Old wive's tales? It will be interesting to see (and I'm exceedingly curious to see if the doctor was right, since I tend to talk shit about early sex guesses regularly). Although he has a 50/50 chance of being right no matter what, so it won't be THAT impressive if he's correct.
Next appointment isn't for a VERY LONG four weeks. However, I can hear the heartbeat on the doppler now so hopefully that will tide me over for a bit.
[Note #1: This focuses on girls' and women's issues because, well, I have a girl. Much of what I've written does apply to boys as well, and boys have their own set of issues. I'm not saying that there isn't pressure on boys to be manly (there is) or that moms of boys shouldn't get irritated when they have their own limited color palette or characters to choose from (you absolutely should). Men's magazines offer body image ideals just as unrealistic as those for women (this should upset you). Boys are encouraged to be aggressive and ridiculed for showing emotion (fight this!). However, a) I have a girl, so the issues there are more glaring to me at this moment. Hence the female focus of this post. Note #2: This post is not about clothes. I promise. It starts that way but it goes way beyond that. Note #3: If this post is TL;DR for you so you skim it, know that I mention several times in the post that I'm not anti-girly or anti-pink or even anti-princess, since I got several emails asking JUST WHAT IS WRONG WITH PINK? Nothing. Nothing is wrong with pink.]
I recently had a debate about the color orange. I know, what could be controversial about that, right? In this case, I had dressed my daughter in it to match the color scheme of a party, and received a comment about sacrificing her feminitiy for the sake of the decor. Um. How is an orange and white striped onesie not appropriate for girls? The friend was firmly of the belief that orange was a "boy" color. I am firmly of the belief that it's gender neutral (and a refreshing relief from yellow), and, in fact, that ALL colors are gender neutral. This debate struck such a nerve with me, because no child should ever hear that a color they are wearing or that they prefer belongs to the opposite gender. Hearing "that's a boy color" or "that's a girl color" can be devastating to a young mind just beginning to develop their own likes and make their own choices.
And when you get down to it, really, what ARE boy and girl colors? Colors have no intrinsic gender and are universally lacking in sex organs, so it's a made-up definer - and one that is fluid: boys wore pink until the mid-20th century. The "assigned" colors were so confusing that "Time" magazine published a chart showing which stores were advocating which color assignment. Until relatively recently, boys and girls wore the same thing for much of their lives:
That child with the long hair, ruffled dress, feathers, bow, and patent leather shoes? Franklin Delino Roosevelt, future four-time president and rough rider. Like the most manly of manly men to ever live, right?
Here's a boy paper doll from the 1920's named Bobby - pink dress and all!
It was a matter of practicality. Skirts and dresses made diaper changes easy. Small baby clothes were white, as they could be bleached clean. When the children got older, clothes were handed down from sibling to sibling as a cost-saving measure. Of course, at some point, the public fell victim to marketing, and it was all down hill from there. It made sense for stores and clothing manufacturers to change this: the more clothes you bought, the more money they made. Why sell you a red car that can be passed down from child to child when they can sell you a pink car for your daughter and make you think you need to buy a whole new car in a different color for your son? They make twice as much money!
Now, if you go to any traditional baby store, you'll see the divide immediately. For better or worse, right or wrong, girls get pink, always. And purple. And sparkles and butterflies and swirly writing and glitter and princess references (oh, the princess references). Boys get blue, green, brown, orange (apparently) and construction vehicles and dinosaurs. In buying clothes for my daughters, I look in both sections and buy what catches my eye, be it pink or blue or chartreuse or puce. But really? It doesn't matter what they wear. Not only was my oldest daughter called "he" in a white onesie and no other gender indicators (which is totally understandable), but I had her in a pink dress with a pink bow and had someone comment on my "darling boy." I tried to find just a simple pair of plain jeans for my daughter. I gave up and bought her "boy" ones after every pair of "girl" jeans in the store had ruffles or pink embroidery or flowers. And seriously don't get me started on girls' shoes. It's nearly impossible to find a neutrally colored, sporty shoe for a little girl.
And let's not even get started on the cutesy phrases splashed everywhere, with the girls' tending to focus on bring pretty princesses and the boys' on being tough little men (word to the wise: a six month old baby is neither a princess nor a little man. It's a baby.).
I have absolutely zero problem (let me repeat that: ZERO) with girls wearing pink. It's a beautiful color on my oldest, she likes it, and she owns pink clothes) or boys wearing blue. I do have issues with pink glitter princess outfits being the only option for girls. I do have issues with people proclaiming that is the way it should be, and that people - particularly infants - should be dressed in colors according to their gender. Or, for that matter, that colors have gender, period. Again: they don't. All colors are neutral because colors don't have penises or vaginas.
Boys' clothes: a wide variety of colors and shades. Out of 18, only three are blue (and even two pink options!).
Girls' clothes: a wide variety of pink shades. All with flowers or ruffles. Out of 21, 12 are mostly pink and 17 have some pink in them. Almost all are very light-colored.
Why do we need blue for boys and pink for girls? Going further, why do we need "boy" toys to be blue and and "girl" toys to be pink? Boy Legos and girl Legos? Boy doctor outfits and girl doctor outfits? Can girls not enjoy something unless it's pink? Can boys not play with something unless it's blue? Do they have to be reminded of their sex every time they touch an object or put on an article of clothing? Be it jeans or a toy car or a sticker book, the gender divide in toys and clothing has never seemed greater. Why does it even matter? Why does this bother you SO much?
This discussion matters because this is a society in which, when sharing that I was going to have a girl, more than one commented, "Oh, too bad. Is Chris disappointed?" And "Oh, girls are so hard. I'm sorry!" One said, "I knew Chris didn't have a boy in him." (I wanted to reply, "Actually, he did, but my cervix didn't have it in it to keep him alive" but that's mean and also beside the point.)
It's a fact worldwide: boys are favored. It's shown in so many ways. And here goes a fairly terrifying list of ways:
It's shown in the startling disparity in the number of boy babies and girl babies born in places like India and China. Naturally, the divide should be 105 boys for every 100 girls. One province of China has 163 boys born for every 100 girls, and nationally it's 118 boys. In India, upwards of 300,000 pregnancies with girls are terminated yearly. There are 7 million more boys under the age of six than girls. Even in the United States, the vast number of people say they want a boy (in a Gallup poll of 1,020 people, almost twice as many said they would prefer a boy). It's shown in the 23.5% wage differential in the U.S. and the fact that women with children are less likely to be hired in a position than equally qualified fathers. It's shown in the ratio of male to female lawmakers (in Congress and Senate the ratio is 445 to 93). It's shown in the way that women's health issues have become such a sticking point in the election (it's 2012 and we're still fighting for health care?). It's shown in the fact that it's an insult to "throw like a girl." In the fact that the "dumb blonde" of jokes is always a woman. It shows in the way that toy makers coat all "girl" toys in pink, while leaving the "boy" counterparts as accurate representations of what cars or tools or animals look like. In a study of over 5,000 children's books, boy characters outnumbered girl characters by 1.6 to 1. In the top 100 movies in 2008, only 33% of speaking roles went to women. Girls have so much emphasis placed on their looks their entire lives, and again, that matters: a 2009 study found that being overweight harms a woman's chances for career advancement but presents no such obstacle for men. The United Nations proclaimed that there "are no societies in which women enjoy the same opportunities as men" (emphasis mine). It shows when companies make t-shirts that boast "I'm too pretty to do homework" or "pretty like mommy" (while the boy version was "smart like daddy" - because neither girls nor mommies can be smart?). It shows when a female writer chooses to write about Harry Potter instead of Harriet Potter (don't get me wrong: I love Hermoine. But the book isn't based on her.). Of the Time list of the 100 Most Influential People in the World, only 38 are women. Boys are the "heirs;" girls are the "spares." It's generally assumed that women can't drive, change a tire, fix a computer, or enjoy sports. Freaking men's shaving cream with the exact same ingredients is almost a buck cheaper than the women's in the next aisle.
Gender specific colors may seem far removed from earning only 77 cents for every dollar that a male does, but it starts somewhere. Every time you tell a girl "that's not for you" or tell her she's pretty in the same breath you tell her brother he's smart, you take another cent away from her. Girls need to know that being girl can mean being intelligent and being adventurous and being strong and being powerful and wearing all colors of the rainbow. If everywhere girls turn they see things "pinked down" for them and they see themselves categorized separately and boxed into the (as my dad called it) "aisle of pink death," they will lose the ability to see themselves as equal to boys.
I've witnessed this twice just recently. At lunch with a friend and her three-year-old son, the little boy said, "Mommy, I hope when you grow up you can be a boy." We laughed and asked why. "So you can be a rock star!" She asked why she couldn't be a rock star now, as a girl. "Because boys are smarter than girls," he replied. Based on our shocked reactions, he quickly assessed that was the wrong thing to say to us and followed up with, "I'm just teasing!." Where did he learn that? Not from my friend - she's very progressive. School, maybe? TV? The playground? Somewhere, for sure. He didn't pull it out of thin air. Later that week, I was at a park with my daughter, who was climbing the rock wall, where a little girl - little girl, like five years old - told her that climbing is for boys. When I said "No, climbing is for everyone!" and she protested, I asked her what girls do. She said, "I'm pretty!" and twirled. I didn't press the issue, but I was inwardly cringing. She was dressed in a pink tee-shirt with a crown on it and script letters saying "cutie." She absolutely might have picked that tee-shirt herself, but did she internalize the message on the tee-shirt? Where did she learn that climbing is for boys and that girls should be pretty? Tee-shirts like that certainly don't help. And it's reinforced by a society where the constant message is that boys and girls are separate (and certainly not equal).
Disturbingly, it's far more acceptable for girls to wear "boy" clothes or do "boy" activities than it is for boys to wear "girl" clothes or do "girl" activities. Why? Because being the boy is the standard. It's the default. But boys doing "girly" things? That's not okay. That's a boy stooping down to a lower level. It's not okay for little boys to do or wear "girl" things because girl things are not as good as boy things. It's okay for little girls to wear "boy" things because they're reaching for a higher level and breaking the mold, because "boy" things are superior. So girls can strive to do "boy" things, but boys shouldn't ever be seen striving to do "girl" things.
I just read this paragraph on a baby name blog, where a mom was considering giving her son a name that might be considered a girly name: You’re asking me if it’s okay to use a name for your son that is used mostly for girls in his country, and in fact is a very popular name for girls. And that’s not a question I can answer for you. The cultural bias against using “girl names” for boys (even though it continues to be appealing to use “boy names” for girls) comes from a very ugly concept, and it’s clearly unfair. Is there ANYTHING AT ALL wrong with being mistaken for a girl/woman? Goodness, no. Do many boys/men nevertheless find it embarrassing or difficult, for reasons we can’t turn our minds to without feeling surges of rage? That’s the difficult place, right there: the line between “SHOULD it be this way?” and “IS it this way?”
No, it shouldn't be that way, and yes, it is that way. And UGH to both.
Even saying things like they are "breaking the mold" reinforces that there is a mold to be broken and that it's outside of the norm for girls to be physical or boys to be sensitive. Phrases like "Oh, he's showing his feminine side!" when a boy expresses emotion or "What a little tomboy!" to a girl who is rock climbing feeds into this. Boys can be sensitive. Girls can be tough. It can be "boyish" to cry. It can be "girly" to be reticent. These are HUMAN emotions, not male or female emotions.
And toys are toys for kids, not toys for boys OR girls.
And colors are colors, not colors for boys OR girls.
I hear often that "...it must be biological - I never told my daughter about princesses and she loves them." Let's be realistic (and even a bit scientific?) here: I'll give you that over a couple of million years of evolution and of women being the child-bearers, it might be true that women tend to be more nurturing and men more protective. Maybe. But guns have only been around for a couple of hundred years - playing with guns isn't intrinsically ingrained in little boys. Cars have been around for even shorter. Playing with cars isn't a biological preference for little boys. Pink as a "girl" color has only been the case for a few decades - that's certainly not a biological preference. Princesses as we know them today (pink and sparkly) barely existed when I was growing up. These preferences develop due to societal influences. Oftentimes, these influences are so subtle we don't even realize they are happening, which is why even the tiniest instance of gender stereotyping is such a big deal. Those small, subtle cues that our children are fed continually are what shape them.
Is there anything wrong with being "a girly girl who loves pink"? Not at all. I have zero problem with girls wearing pink and being homemakers or boys wearing blue and being lumberjacks if that's what they choose. I know men and women are different, beyond just genitalia. I have long hair and wear skirts and jewelry and low-cut shirts that show cleavage. I love being a woman and I celebrate my femininity. Being a woman is an amazing thing. (So is being a man, or any sex in between.) I recognize the biological differences between men and women. I celebrate these differences. I love these differences.
However, I want
these differences to arise organically and not because of marketing from companies that are out for the
bottom line. I want my child to be able to decide what to play with and
how to play with it and not be forced to choose between a "boy" and a
"girl" toy. I want little boys and girls to be able to play with realistic toy
kitchens, and realistic toy castles, and realistic doll cribs. There's no reason a drill needs to be pink for a girl to play with it. Little kids just want mini versions of the real thing. I want kids to be able to develop who they are,
what their likes and dislikes and interests are, based on their own
explorations. All girls and all boys cannot possibly fall into those boxes created by marketing teams. The differences between individuals are VASTLY greater than the differences between genders. And trying to put all of the members of one gender into the same pink or blue box with limited options is stifling and damaging.
"It's parenting," is a common argument. "It's all in how you parent." Yes, I can make a difference: I can buy as
many gender neutral toys as possible. I can make sure my daughters know that princesses do more besides just look pretty (to expand their knowledge of princesses, we watched videos of Princess Kate playing lacrosse and looked at pictures of her camping). I do control what comes into this
house. But the first time we go to Target or Toys R Us, that attempt
to shield her from the gender divide will be blown out the window, when
she sees the very definite "boy" and "girl" aisles and asks questions. The first time she goes to school and is told that pink should be her favorite color, it challenges my ideals. When we're out and about and people ask what she's going to be for Halloween and follow up with "A princess?" before she can even answer just reinforces the problem. It's hard to parent for my philosophy when a place like Pottery Barn Kids offers 56 colors/styles of backpacks and 28 of them are "girl" colors/patterns and 24 are "boy" colors/patterns and 4 are what I would consider neutral (gray and green). But all those neutral ones? They're embroidered with boy names and clearly supposed to be meant for boys. Also, all but one of those neutral options are trimmed in navy blue, pushing them closer to traditional boy territory. And every single one of those 28 "girl" ones contains pink and/or purple in some form - EVERY SINGLE ONE. 18 of the 24 "boy" ones contained blue in some form. A girl that doesn't like pink or purple is screwed, apparently, or forced to look at the boy choices. Come on, Pottery Bark Kids. There are FIFTY SIX color options. You couldn't have ANY options outside of those? What about a parent who wants to get a neutral set to share among her children or who, like me, is trying to get away from this pink tornado? We're screwed. (Note: This was as of 2012 - things may have changed since then.)
I will do all I can to raise my children to think that being a girl is awesome and that being a girl means being smart, caring, daring, empathetic, adventurous, loving, nurturing, and/or anything that she wants it to mean. I will do all I can to empower them to believe that they are worthy, that they aren't second class citizens, and that they can do anything they want to do. Even pee standing up (with the right equipment). <----mostly a joke
At the same time, I will do all I can to raise my children to think that being a boy is awesome and that being a boy means being smart, caring, daring, empathetic, adventurous, loving, nurturing, and/or anything that a boy wants it to mean. I will raise them to believe that boys are worth, that they aren't second class citizens, and that they can do anything they want to do.
So that was six pages and almost 3,500 words to say: Please, let's not divide girls and boys up any more than they already are. Blue on a girl? Awesome. Pink on a boy? Righteous. Let's celebrate "throwing like a girl" and "crying like a boy" and let boys take care of dolls and girls play firefighters. Let's let them decide on their terms how they want to be defined, and not let the media and corporations decide for them. Let's teach them how to be awesome and think they are awesome and, importantly, think that the opposite gender is pretty awesome too.
I've been slowly writing this letter over the course of a couple months. Some of the thoughts were inspired from other letters that I've seen, but I tried to make them more personal and my own and specific to this baby girl. I actually set this to publish automatically when I was happy with it and decide not to touch it again. When it does finally publish it will be almost new to me!
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Dear Little (Um, Big?) One Squirming in my Belly,
Today is the first Mother's Day that we'll share together, and the only one we'll share where you are mine and only mine. These fleeting months where you depend completely on me and I am the only person who knows you - REALLY knows you - are something to be treasured. I love each and every second spent with you, and celebrate every kick and nudge. Today, you take my breath away literally as you encroach on space formerly occupied by my lungs, and in just a short period of time I'll glimpse your (likely chubby-cheeked) face for the first time and you'll take my breath away in an entirely different way. Soon enough, I'll have to share you with the world. You will be independent. I'll share you with your dad, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, your classmates, your friends, and before I know it you'll be sharing your own life with someone who will teach you a meaning of love that you've never known before. But for today, you are mine. And I am savoring it. Though you won't always belong to just me, I will always be your mama. Even if we're lucky enough to give you siblings, your place in my heart won't diminish.
There are many things I want for you and so many things I want to tell you, though I know you'll truly only learn them by living your life to the fullest. But I'll still share a few.
I have so many hopes and dreams for you, baby girl, interspersed with fears. The world can be an amazing place. And the world can be a harsh place. My wish for you is that you celebrate the wonders of the world and work to overcome the bad. I want you to reach for the stars. I want you to be kind to others, even when society isn't. I want you to fight for the little people. I want you to dream big and always be proud of who you are. If a time comes when you doubt yourself, remember I believe in you. I hope you live a thoughtful life full of love, passion, and learning.
I hope you love those who are worthy of you without question. I know you'll experience heartache in life. We all do. It hurts and some days it feels like your heart has become permanently damaged, but I promise that you will come out the other side alive and even happy. Those people who hurt you are not worthy of your love. I hope you are able to see that better than I was as a young woman. You are worth someone who treats you like the amazing person that you are and who makes your heart flutter. Don't compromise on this. You will find them some day. And I'm not just talking about a significant other; I'm talking about your friendships as well. If someone drains you or tears you down or tries to lead you down paths you aren't comfortable with, drop them. A true friend will support you in making the right decisions and will build you up in ways you can't possibly imagine. People can be mean sometimes. You might experience it from someone in your class, or from someone you look up to. Sometimes, even from someone you thought was a friend. Trust me: they aren't. Use your family and true friends in those situations; lean on them for support and love. And you can always, always come talk to me.
Speaking of love, I hope you never question our love for you. I know you'll go through stages where family is the last thing you want to be around, but I hope that phase is short. Family is the most important thing in life, whether it's a family of your own choosing or your biological family (and I hope you always choose us). Your dad and I and any future siblings will be there for you every step of the way, and no matter what we will always and forever love you. As long as you're trying, we'll be so proud of you. I hope we have family dinners and family movie nights and family traditions and family vacations that you'll remember forever. I stopped going on family vacations when I was in my late teens; I regret that now. Those are times you can't get back. I promise: while you might be embarrassed by strong family ties, your friends without them will be jealous. I know the burdens that come with being the oldest child all too well: you are the oldest daughter of an oldest daughter of an oldest daughter. I can't take that burden from you, but I can help you understand it and I can empathize when it is frustrating. I hope someday, if you have children of your own, you're able to look to me for inspiration as I do your grandmother. She's truly an amazing woman and a hero to me. I hope to be that for you.
I hope you know that you are beautiful and you will always be beautiful to me. Society measures beauty by many standards, and few people fulfill them all. Those who do are often airbrushed and personal-trained into an unrealistic picture of what a woman should be. They are artificial. True beauty starts from the inside. If you are happy, if you are kind, if you are striving to be the best you can be...you will be beautiful. It may take time for others to see it, but they will. If you are one of the lucky ones who are considered superficially beautiful as well, understand this: that kind of beauty fades, and fades quickly. That kind of beauty comes in and out of style. That kind of beauty is never permanent. One day you might be the most beautiful girl in your class; and the next day someone more beautiful may come along. Never rely on that kind of beauty. If you focus on being a beautiful person on the inside, however, your beauty will endure.
Part of that internal beauty is intelligence. I know you'll be one smart cookie - never hide that. I want you to love learning of all kinds. I hope you eagerly devour books and go on walks and ask "What's that?" a million times. I want you to look at the stars and wonder where they came from. I want you to question what you see and what you hear. I hope I can foster this love of learning in you. Your grandma and grandpa instilled this in me so deeply I still ask those questions. I hope you find passion and adventure in life. I hope you to embrace creativity, even if you do get your father's art skills. I want you to look at every single day as an opportunity to further your knowledge.
Part of learning is also making mistakes. While I know they will hard for you to experience and hard for me to watch, I know they will happen at some point. That's okay. Mistakes aren't always bad. Learn from them. Examine them. Relish them. Without mistakes, we wouldn't have Silly Putty or Post-it-notes. If it was a bad mistake, own up to it, do what you can to fix it, and move on. Chances are no one will remember tomorrow.
All lives worth living come with these types of bumps in the road. Sometimes they are small, and sometimes they seem more like a mountain than a mere bump. You may worry you can't climb over it. But you can. Push the envelope. Push your boundaries. Make yourself a better person with each step you take in life. When you reflect on your life, I want you to look back with awe at the person you were and with excitement for the person you're becoming.
I want you to cherish the past, embrace the present, and look forward to the future. Don't spend so much time dwelling on what has happened or what will happen that you miss what is happening today. Cliche alert (like this entire letter hasn't been one giant cliche): In the game of life, you will sometimes be winning, and you will sometimes be losing. If you happen to be behind, don't be a sore loser. Soon enough, it will be your turn to be at the front of the pack. When you are winning, be gracious. Remember those times you were losing and treat the ones who are now in that position with compassion. Always keep in mind that the game ends the same way for all of us, no matter what our score was. So take your time, enjoy it, and play with integrity.
I read this once, and it spoke to me and the type of parent I hope to be for you:
I promise to do everything I can to help you build a life filled with creativity, security, culture, adventure, humor, compassion, knowledge, tradition and optimism.
Daughter of mine, longed-for child, (not so) littlest one, I promise you that I will be the best mother I can be. I know there will be days when we will test each other's patience, but I hope despite the yelling and (hopefully metaphorical) hair-pulling we can both remember the love that binds us forever. And I do love you, even if I'm grounding you for two weeks for getting your belly button pierced without permission. Ha! Who am I kidding? That's a two MONTH grounding at the least.
This is a post I wrote immediately after finding out that we were having a little girl, so eight weeks ago. Up front, because of the content, I want to make it entirely clear that given days and weeks to process the information, my feelings have done a complete 180, and I am way beyond excited about our baby girl. However, my feelings in the instant we found out were very conflicted and very confusing, and I want to share them with you in the hopes that anyone else who has been through this - or is on their way to going through this - can find solace and comfort.
This is a hard post to write, and one that is likely to get me in trouble with some of the baby loss community. I thought a long time about writing this post before I decided to do it. I know from talking to a few others that these emotions aren't unique to me and others have experienced them - but that they felt terrible and guilty for it. So I wanted to write about it and get it out there in case others had this taboo experience. And I want to clarify before I put anything else down on paper (er, virtual paper) that I love this baby more than anything, even cookie dough ice cream [I'm not even sure I love Chris that much] [okay I do], and I am beyond excited that it's a girl. The sweet little baby dresses and feminine nursery prints that are quickly stacking up in the soon-to-be nursery can attest to that.
But the truth is, I cried when I found out. Several times. Hard. Like snotty nose hard.
When I found out Caleb was a boy right after he was born, it was an extra rub of salt in the wound (I talk about this in the birth story a bit). Growing up, I'd always wanted an older brother and because of that I'd hoped to have a boy first, and I had secretly suspected that Chris wanted a boy, too. (Doesn't every man? Since, like, God?) And after he was born, it was hard not to imagine what life with a little boy would have been like. I fell hard for those visions of snips and snails and puppy dog tails. A baby boy nursery was completely finished in my mind. Blue and green cloth diapers, rough and tumble, maybe a toddler fauxhawk, sending my kindergartner off to practice in a giant hockey uniform, as a high schooler watching out for his little sister. It was a vision that I wanted to fulfill so badly I could taste it.
I had this irrational thought that if this was a boy, it would be like we never lost our first. I was completely aware that this wasn't a replacement child or the same child, but in some way it would be like it was the same spirit. My pregnancy would have just lasted 15 months, like an elephant or something. The baby would just have been delayed in arriving. I realize that doesn't mesh with me saying that I was aware it wasn't the same child, but somehow both truths existed at the same time. I'm magic, yo.
Finding out this was a girl was really hard. I won't say devastating, because it wasn't. I know what devastating is. I've lived through devastating. But in that moment, it was like Caleb died all over again. It wasn't that I didn't want a girl - I did. Badly, even. I have a great relationship with my mom and want that with a daughter. But I wanted to fulfill those original visions, dammit. And I really wanted my daughter to have an older brother to lead the way, something I always wanted when I was growing up. It was like I was finally back on the train that had derailed so quickly and suddenly and devastatingly when Caleb died, only to find out that it was going to a different final destination.
And of course it is. Because this is a different baby. A different baby that isn't our first baby. And that's okay. But I'm scared. What if Caleb was our one boy and those dreams of baby fauxhawks are never fulfilled? What if our daughter never gets to have a brother and misses out on the great fun that I had with my brother (even if he WAS younger than me and not older). What if our only boy died? That's a really, really hard thought to accept. I always wanted at least one of each. That's such a naive thought, I know now. Dream of healthy and living babies, not of a perfect family with one boy and one girl.
This baby girl, I already feel like I failed her. She was always going to be here - she just is arriving sooner rather than later - but she was supposed to have an older brother to watch out for her, here, on this earth, not from wherever he is now. A brother to tease her, teach her how to pee standing up, and intimidate future boyfriends. She was supposed to have experienced parents, ones who have already been around the block and know the drill. A mom that nursed before, a mom that used cloth diapers before, a mom that knows the difference between fussy and colicky. She wasn't supposed to carry the burden of being a "rainbow" baby (a term the baby loss community uses to describe a baby that comes after a loss) or have a mom that might not ever be able to fully explain just how this pregnancy saved her in ways that will never be understood.
She's not even born yet, and I feel like she's missing out on so much by being the rainbow baby.
But I'm head over heels in love with this little girl. That's another reason why it's so hard. Because I'm already worried about her for the rest of her life. Girls have to put up with a lot of shit in their lives (come on, we're STILL making $.75 to the dollar a man makes??), and I don't want that for her. Not to mention that since children automatically like what their parents hate, she'll probably idolize Sarah Palin and love pink glitter. She'll likely come out of the womb waving a sparkle wand wearing a tiara demanding that I enter her in the next glitz beauty pageant, like right now, MOM. I mean, we already saw in an ultrasound picture that she was rockin' a crown. I'm scared about seeing her sexy pictures on Facebook or whatever social networking site is the big thing in 15 years and telling her that she is NOT going out of the house in that outfit, over my dead body and I definitely definitely DEFINITELY do not want to see her on "16 and Pregnant," or any MTV show for that matter. Unless it's called "Nice Girls with Good Grades who Don't Have Sex and Dress Appropriately."
Please God let the Amish way of life become SUPER DUPER stylish in exactly 13 years. And then last for at least 10 years. I'm totally willing to learn to churn butter.
THUS ENDS ANY ATTEMPT AT DOWNPLAYING THIS WITH JOKES AND NOW I GET SERIOUS AND SAD AND START CRYING AGAIN.
I can add another reason I cried so hard upon finding out (once I was in the safety of my car, alone) that I wasn't able to piece together until a few days later, after I'd written the bulk of this post. And it might be the most Freud-ian reason, and the most difficult. My cousin who hung herself was a girl, and I found out this baby was a girl just days afterward. What if that was my daughter? We were having suicide facts thrown at us left and right, and the one that stuck out at me was that girls are far more likely to attempt suicide than boys are. There isn't a history of mental illness or severe depression in my family that I know of, but I had a few hard years there myself. Case in point: I'm pretty sure I cried myself to sleep every day from sixth to eighth grade. Much of that had to do with my specific class full of reallymean girls (ugh, what if there are mean girls at my daughter's school?? What if my daughter IS a mean girl?). My mom, who was a teacher at my grade school, is good friends with one of my junior high teachers, and I've often heard from her that my class was indeed particularly vicious, and it wasn't just my tormented memory making it worse than it truly was. (Catholic school girls? Not just for sex fantasies; also great for destroying self-esteem!) However, high school (also Catholic; this time all-girls) was much better, and while I'm sure I had the typical "I wish I'd never been born!" thoughts during the rough times, I was never suicidal. But I didn't think my cousin was either. So psycho-analyze that little depressing jaunt into my mind: it definitely contributed to the sadness.
END SERIOUS STUFF.
But yeah. Amish. Anything you can do to help a sister out there would be great. If we all started wearing it, maybe we can start a fad!
Again, note that this was written weeks ago, when we first found out. Although my feelings have changed, I feel like it's important to let others who might be on this same journey know that you're not alone in what you might be feeling. Given even just a day to process the information, I was already feeling much better. Now, so far removed from it, I can say that the bulk of these feelings have completely vanished and have been taken over entirely by pure joy and unadulterated excitement [and I've started practicing how to tell her she canNOT get her belly button pierced at 14]. I've purchased some pink thing's, ya'll. And I HATE pink. But some of those tiny pink baby clothes are irresistible. That said, most of what I've purchased is still gender neutral or at least not PINK, because she's my kid and I can put her in blue if I want to - I'm the one who has to look at what she's wearing all day and it might as well be my favorite colors getting splattered with poop. I should also mention that Chris is also enthralled with her already - and has actually given me crap about having blue and green in her nursery and wardrobe. He's very sweet and protective of her in a way I'm not sure he would be if it was a boy and I can't wait to see her wrap him around her little finger.
We cannot wait to meet our baby girl.*
*IN 18 WEEKS, KIDDO, DON'T GO GETTING ANY IDEAS ABOUT TRYING TO MEET YOUR AWESOME PARENTS ANY EARLIER THAN THAT.
