All the old wives’ tales, witch doctor magic we’d been using to try and determine gender were wrong. I’ll be honest, I thought it was a boy. I was convinced, ready to start buying bow-ties and suspenders, envisioning my little nerdlet convinced. The Rands (my husband) knew better. He was in camp girl all along.
As I giddily walked into the ultrasound appointment, I was certain I was going to see some man parts. Even though I don’t know what to do with man parts (that’s what she said), I was ready to learn. But as the money shot made its way onto the screen, I knew I’d seen that shot somewhere before. No twig and berries to speak of. All lady. A legitimate, ankles crossed kind of lady (said the immature and repentant mother who just made a “that’s what she said” joke).
The gender reveal is a funny deal. Everyone says they’re excited either way, which they are, but in their heart of hearts, I think most people pine for a certain gender. Even though I thought it was a boy, I was pining for a girl. I need our daughter, Harper, to have a sister. I know sisters. I love my sisters. Once I got over the shock of how dead wrong I and the old wives were, I called up my gaggle of sisters to share the verdict. There is nothing like loads of sisterly estrogen love to multiply our joyous news.
I have four sisters and two-step sisters. Sisters come with major perks. Sisters are for clothes borrowing, sympathetic tear shedding, synchronized menstruating, inside joke sharing, late night girl talking, choreographed dance routine making, nonstop drama inducing fun.
(Is this a good time to mention I have ONE brother? Wha-wha. Don’t give him your sympathy; he’s better for being raised by a pack of women. Also, he always got his own room so I’d say he came out a winner. I’m not bitter.)
Peoples’ reactions are entertaining to say the least. Numerous people asked, how sure were they that you’re having a girl? I don’t know how to respond to that question. Uh, I didn’t see a penis? Try again, Bekka. How would a dignified, mature health teacher respond? The labia majora was present? Let me just say, I know they didn’t get it wrong. We saw plenty of business to know her business. Modesty was not an option at this ultrasound.
And then everyone worries about the dad. How’s he handling it? Like it’s some sort of devastation. Listen, even though I’m pretty sure all men pine for a boy, a little lady is not a devastation. Sure, he’s going to have to hear the word period more than he’s ever wanted to in his life, (which would be never for clarification purposes), but girls and dads, they love each other. They need each other.
The dad in this case is doing just fine. Better than fine, he’s very excited. And he’s also the guilty party so any gender disappointment he may be harboring means he only has himself to blame.
And how’s the current main little lady in our life handling the news? She’s ecstatic that seeing her baby sister on the screen meant giant, pink, sprinkle covered donuts at the end of the appointment. If food can buy a person’s love, she’s over the moon about a sister. It hasn’t really solidified in her mind yet, but I’m still trying to hold back the tears when I think of the future hand holding, smooching, and exploits that will occur between my two little girls. I just hope those exploits don’t include sitting on her sister’s head to “welcome” her to the family. (The sister I just threw under the bus shall remain nameless, but you know who you are and you know what you did.)
I am thrilled, WE are thrilled it’s a girl. A part of me thinks we knew it all along because we dubbed her “sissy boo” before we knew she was a sissy boo. I can’t wait for this sweet, maybe a tad raucous if she takes after her mother, lady to enter our lives.
Is it February yet?