Hey there, munchkin!!!
You are the greatest little thing on the planet right now!!! Daddy and I saw you again today, and I can’t believe it – you look like a baby now!!! It completely blows my mind how fast you’re growing. In a few short weeks you went from a tiny little microscopic bug into this wonderful, wiggly creature with arms, legs, fingers, toes, a cute little tummy and hands that PUNCHED your mama during the ultrasound! I guess you like kickboxing like me. It was the cutest thing I’ve seen in my life. Even though you’re only 3.54cm long, you’re already this perfectly shaped little human, and that makes you larger than life to me.
I know so much about you already. I know that you don’t like sweets all that much, but you’re into savory things like mashed potatoes and salsa. Not together. That actually sounds gross together. Let’s pretend I didn’t just put those two things in the same sentence, because I really don’t want to see how that looks coming up. I did start getting nauseated – I guess I counted my chickens too soon on the whole “no morning sickness” thing – but at least you haven’t made me barf. That’s another reason why we’re not going to try mashed potatoes and salsa quite yet.
Anyway, I know that you’re stubborn and independent and have very strong opinions on certain things. Like cinnamon, for instance. Your hatred of cinnamon is so legendary they’re going to write songs about it to pass on to future generations. The first time I really thought we were going to hurl was walking into Vons and getting smacked in the face with the cinnamon-y odor of their seasonal display. I wanted to barf right there in the produce section, but I guess you have more class than that. Luckily, we were able rush outside and get some fresh air, which saved us some embarrassment.
Another time was walking into Target. I don’t know what set you off then – I think it was the smell of grilling burgers at The Habit, but whatever it was, I barely made it to the bathroom before I started dry heaving. Thank goodness you didn’t let me eat much that day; otherwise it would have gotten messy. We did manage to scare a mom and her daughter out of the restroom, so I guess there’s that. Nothing sends families scattering quite like a disheveled lady about to toss her non-existent cookies in a public place. Go team!
I love you so much, and I love having you with me. One thing we don’t know about you is whether you’re going to be a girl or a boy, and I have mixed feelings about finding out. Because while it’ll be fun to know; ultimately, it doesn’t matter. This morning, I had blood drawn for something called an NIPT – non-invasive prenatal test – which will not only tell us the likelihood of you being a perfect, healthy baby, but it will also reveal gender. Your gender doesn’t matter. I want that to be clear, right now. Whether you’re a boy or a girl, your daddy and I are going to love you the same. We’re also going to love you the same whether you’re gay or straight, or transgender, or anything else. You’re our baby. And you’re being specially created for us right now, and however you’re made is going to be 100% perfect.
I’m also not going to toss gender specific clothes and toys at you. I don’t agree with any of that. Boys can like pink. Girls can like the color blue. Boys can play with dolls and girls can chase their pets with remote control cars and/or fire trucks. There’s this amazing little toy that I give to all of my friend’s kids when they’re about one year old. It’s a Leap Frog learning toy, in the shape of a stuffed puppy dog. It teaches kids numbers and letters and body parts and it talks and sings to them. It’s a really exceptional little toy…but it comes in a green “My Pal Scout” and lavender “My Pal Violet.” Why do we need two of them? Why do they have to market baby toys for girls and boys? It’s the Same. Exact. Toy. Having a “girl” and a “boy” dog puts gender stereotypes into kid’s heads as early as year one. I’m not cool with that.
I’ve also been shopping around for cloth diapers for you, and wouldn’t you know, several companies have “boy” diapers and “girl” diapers. The only difference is that the “boy” diapers are green and blue and brown and have fire trucks and dinosaurs on them, while the “girl” diapers are pink and purple and white and have flowers and bows on them. Dinosaurs are cool to ALL kids. And boys can like flowers. It totally annoys me.
So. We will find out in about two weeks if you’re going to be a boy or a girl. I’m excited, but at the same time, nothing I do is going to change knowing which gender you are. You’re still going to be my baby. Your crib will be gray, it’ll be covered in puppy dog crib sheets, and you’re still going to have your first bath on this huge, frog shaped sponge I found on Amazon and fell in love with. I’ve had you bumping around in my head for so long, but knowing whether you’re a boy or girl will put a face on the child in my head. It’ll make you more real, whether that face is a girl or a boy.
We’re having a gender reveal party for you, but planning it is hard, because even the gender party themes are so sexist it drives me crazy, and literally everything is in either pink or blue. The “Baseball or Bows” theme is one that particularly irks me. I like baseball AND bows. Another is “Ties or Tutus”. Excuse me, but boys can and do dance ballet, and male ballet dancers are some of the strongest, fittest dudes out there.
I’ve kind of always imagined you as a girl, to be honest, but in my heart of hearts, I feel that you’re a boy. And in about two weeks, we’ll know if my head or my heart was correct. Your dad and I already love you so much. Being able to address you with the proper pronoun in two weeks will just be icing on the cake.
Love you Always,
Mom
My Stork Got Lost 