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…
Flux Capacitating 
Nice post, Amelia. Yellow will work well until young A enters his goth stage and wants black. Or whatever it is by then,
Having no experience with raising girls, I’m not a good judge of which is easier. But the boys sure have been fun. And, I suspect, less emotional hassle. Less likely to say ‘Mo-therrrr!’at you.
Opinions may differ.
Vicki, everyone that I have talked says that boys are trouble at first and easier as they get older while girls are the other way around…of course it’s all relative, but like you, I wouldn’t have it any other way! RE: black walls? Uh oh… 🙂
Oh good grief. I just started crying at my desk at work! That is the sweetest story! Oh lord. You are such a good mama. Also, look for some mail from me this week!
Morgan, you are so sweet, and I LOVE your mail, what a treat!! You’re the best!
I can relate to this post in so many levels!! I have four step-sisters, and younger sister and 90% of my cousins are girls. When I found out I was going to have a boy (the first boy in my family in 26 years), I freaked out! I had the same reaction as you did. I felt like I had no idea what to do with a boy… I kept thinking, “what if I raise him as a girl by mistake because I don’t know how to raise a boy?!” He he… It’s funny now, but I was so scared!
If it’s any comfort at all Amelia, I think every mom-to-be has the moment where it hits you that you are about to parent a little person. Be it a boy or a girl, there is something very daunting about that responsibility.
Even with two (and almost three) girls under my care (and one for almost five years), I still wonder what I’m supposed to do much of the time. It is reassuring to remember that wall colors and room decor matter very little, while love, security, joy, and laughter don’t know a gender.
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I am glad you linked to this post. I felt the same apprehension about having a boy and I had several public sorrow moments during pregnancy that I can now laugh at (including at Asa’s wedding when we were both pregnant- the last time I saw you). Now I can’t imagine life without my son and I am starting to believe I will figure it out. I also love to watch older boys and imagine Jakob. I am really glad you are keeping this blog. I can relate to most of the things going on with you and it validates a lot of feelings I have. Thanks!
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