When you’ve had a pregnancy like ours (I know, I know, details will be forthcoming in other posts), you know more about your baby/pregnancy on day one than normal people ever deduce in their entire nine month stint. Since our baby felt more like a math equation than a miracle up front, we decided to leave the gender in the sacred mystery category. Also known as, “leave the gender to God.”(because not all of it was up to Him anyway?)
I am still shocked how much this angers other people. How dare we defy modern technology and instead insist on a pointless surprise? How impractical we must be- painting the room pale yellow, buying blue and pink outfits only to have to return half of the batch, slaving away on multiple naming selections, and just overall not being prepared for a baby- because knowing if it had a tiddly winks or not would change our entire parenting perspective.
“I don’t think I could do that,” says the snide lady performing my maternal massage.
“I think you know and you’re just not telling us” say relatives trying to prod.
“So you’re just doing yellow and green?” says everyone with zero sense of style. (See picture for not so much…)
What follows is another great charade of questions:
“What do you want more- a boy or a girl?”
This is hands down the strangest yet most common question. So you want me to cast my vote, only to have a strong 50% chance that I will get the alternative, and this wayward child will be branded from the start as the person that “should have been” my son or daughter. It’s like a bad Lifetime Movie: “Isabella, if only you could have been the son your father wanted!”
And then I’m always asked, “what do you think it is?”
This question is loaded. This question implies that surely I have developed some sense of maternal instinct as a result of this pregnancy and have a bond so close with my baby that I know it is either a boy or a girl. Worse yet, I tend to get the one-over look, whereby mothers from around the world make a decision based off of how much fat landed in my butt/thighs. I cringe when they take their guess, knowing well what they say about the differences in carrying between girls and boys. Hint: girls are supposed to steal your good looks, which would lend people to be judging how hideous you appear).
And the truth is, I don’t know. Sure, I have a guess, just like the rest of the world, but I don’t actually know.
They say you have vivid dreams, and that’s how a lot of pregnant women “discover” the sex of their baby. Well, perhaps you dream readers out there can shed some light. I’ve had two dreams with very, very ugly baby boys. I’ve had one dream with a precious little girl. And I’ve had one dream that my child (genderless in the dream) was a black baby. Take that.
I still regret during everyone else’s overspun (no offense) gender reveal in pink or blue cakes….I missed out on a prized opportunity. I should have staged our cake reveal.
Imagine, as we are cutting it open and people are confused seeing plain white cake, and we exclaim, “OMG! We’re having a caucasian baby!”