Ok. I’m going to confess a less than flattering moment from my pregnancy and see if I can weave this thought in with my thoughts on the pictures above…here goes.
When I was gigantically pregnant (which it seems that I was that way for most of my pregnancy, so that doesn’t really give you a frame of reference, but it was some time late in the 2nd trimester, methinks.) Drew and I were getting the baby’s room together and decided to paint the walls. We had recently found out that we were having a boy, and while I was thrilled with that prospect, there was a little part of my brain that was saying, “but I’m a girl! What if I don’t know how to raise a boy?”
So there we are in the Lowes parking lot with a gallon of pale yellow paint, we opened the trunk of the car, and I saw the little dot of color drying on the top of the lid and panicked. I mean, seriously loosing-it-shoulder-heaving-crying-my-eyes-out-full-on-lost it. Poor mistified Drew was standing with me next to the open trunk, apologetically looking around at the other people out running their Saturday errands, patiently waiting for me to choke out, “I don’t know what a little boy will waaaaaaaaaaannnnnt. What if he hates yeeeelllllloooowwwww…” When I pictured myself pregnant, I didn’t picture myself sobbing in public over paint (and circumcision if you want to know the truth, but that’s for another day), but there I was. Now Drew and I laugh about this, but at the time, I was gripped with terror that I was going to be out of sync with my little boy for ever and ever, amen. We’ll chock the whole thing up to crazy pregnancy hormones, but I think the truth is, pregnant me felt very confident about the prospect of raising a little girl because I at least had a notion of what being a little girl is all about. Finding out that we were having a boy felt a little bit more like a challenge in some way, but now here I am, a little under a year since my paint can melt down, and of course cannot imagine life without my little guy.
So how does this relate to those pictures up there of Drew with his mom and brother? Like this: Drew comforted me that day by hugging me and saying, “think about how much I love my Mom. This is going to ok.” And that worked for me. Perhaps what it comes down to this simple truth: no matter what, we love our babies. And you know what? Babies really don’t care what color the walls are. At least, not yet…