You have no idea how glad I am that the sex of Baby 2.0 is decided by a little tiny sperm, and not by me.
One of the most exciting parts about having a baby is finding out whether it will be a boy or girl. For the weeks leading up to the big ultrasound, everyone chimes in with their opinions one way or another. They weigh in with old wives tales or just personal feelings. I love daydreaming about having another little girl to dress up in pretty clothes or a boy that looks just like Michael. I don't have the patience nor feel the moment would be more special if we waited for the birth of the baby to find out the sex.
But I almost wish I did.
Michael and I aren't planning on having more than two children. Back before we had Evie, I always said I wanted at least three but probably four children, and Michael was always pretty firm on two. Once I became a parent, I realized that if I wanted to keep my sanity and any semblance of organization in my life, two children were probably my limit too. I love kids, but I rank my sanity pretty high up there too.
So since we are planning on Baby 2.0 being our last child, I have very mixed feelings about the sex of the baby. Of course what I want most is a healthy baby. But beyond that, I would love to have another little girl. I love dresses and girly things. And girls are familiar to me. When I think about having a son and him becoming a teenager someday, I can't help but shudder in fear. I can handle menstruation and birth control and shrilly female moments of drama because I've lived those moments. Not so sure about wet dreams and all those fun male things. Oh my god, that's so scary. But I know having a son would open up a whole new world to me, and would brighten my life so much. So although I'd choose girl over boy if it were up to me, I'll be happy either way.
What really makes me nervous about finding out the sex of Baby 2.0 is the rest of my little family. I'm sure if you asked Michael, he'd say the same as me but in reverse. He wants a healthy baby above all, but would really love a son. Of course he'd be okay with another girl--it wouldn't be his first rodeo. But what guy doesn't want a son? I'll be so disappointed for him if Baby 2.0 is a girl.
Evie, on the other hand, will not be happy with either boy or girl. She still refuses to even consider the fact that Baby 2.0 could be a boy. This is how a typical conversation goes with her involving the baby:
Evie: What's my baby sister doing now, Mommy?
Me: She's growing super fast so she can meet you. But you know the baby might be a brother, right?
Evie: But it might be a sister.
Me: Yes, I know. But the baby might be a boy.
Evie: I think it's a girl.
Me: Yes, I realize this. But what if the baby is a boy?
Evie: I think it's a girl.
It goes on and on and on. She absolutely will not budge. I asked Evie if she will still love the baby if it's a brother, and she said no. This honestly worries me because she is stubborn like both her parents, and I could see her being so mad if Baby 2.0 is a boy that she really will refuse to acknowledge it. Yes, I'm sure eventually she would get over it. She loves our friends' little son. But she wants a sister to share all her stuff with so badly that I think she will be deeply disappointed.
And therein lies my dilemma.
I'll be disappointed for Michael if Baby 2.0 is a girl because this is his last shot at having a boy. I know how badly it would have hurt me if we hadn't ever had a girl so I would feel so sad for all that could have been. But I know that Evie will be so disappointed if Baby 2.0 is a boy. She wants a sister so badly that she won't even think about the alternative. I know that eventually she would love him regardless, but the loss of a sister bond would break my heart a little too.
At this point, I almost wish I were pregnant with twins--one boy and one girl. I can't even believe I just said that. But it would solve this little dilemma. Too bad I've already had two ultrasounds and they double checked extra carefully both times to make sure only one baby was present.
So many thanks to that tiny sperm that took on this burden. I am so glad I am not you.