In case you haven't heard...

!!!!WE'RE HAVING A GIRL!!!!

We found out on Wednesday, November 23rd that we're having a lil baby girl.  We won't be sharing names just yet, but we're very excited to share this news.  We would have been happy, no matter what the sex turned out to be.  But now that we know it's a girl, there are a whole new set of dreams, goals, and fears that are making this experience so much more real.

Here's to looking forward to the future of my little girl.  Can't wait to see where our journey takes us.

Boy vs. girl vs. panic

In about 11 hours I am going to know whether we are having a boy or girl.  I am nervous, excited, and a bit scared out of my mind.  Mostly because I've been having some serious issues with how to deal with identity and gender for my child.

I know this might seem ridiculous to some people, but out of the millions of things I probably could be worrying about, one of the main things I get concerned with is my child dealing with gender and social "norms" being imposed upon them.  And then by absorbing those norms they then begin to judge and not accept others because they are "different."  I know that a lot of that has to do with how parents bring up their children.  But I also know that environmental factors make a huge difference, and the older a child gets the less you have any control over their environment.

But what seems fearful is that these gender stereotypes are placed on children at such a young age.  Primarily through toys, shows, and clothing.  For example"

These are just onesies, but these are the type of clothes that make me a bit nervous.  Boys its always dark colors and sports, sports, sports.  And for girls it mainly pinks and purples and ditsy, brainless sayings.  In my opinion, girl things usually tend to be worse and more oppressive, but I'm not really happy with the options either way.  OBVIOUSLY, I will not be purchasing these types of items, but someone else might.  And what am I supposed to say?  Um, thanks for your gift  but I don't want my child to become a stereotypical meat/air head who don't appreciate themselves or others.

I feel like once we find out the sex of the baby, I'm going on a whole journey of making sure that my son can feel ok to wear pink or take a dance class or my daughter can wear baggy clothes and not care about make up without being made fun of for being "gay" or a "tom boy" or being considered an outsider.   

I'm obviously not going to go to any extremes, like this one set of parents, who decided to not tell anyone the sex of their baby so the child could decide their own gender.  

http://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/26/genderless-baby/

And although I would never do this, I can totally understand why these parents did it.  There are so many pressures for people to act a certain way based on their sex.  I have met many women who refuse to lift anything because its "too heavy" and "need to get a man to do it."  And I have met way too many men who refuse to cry, especially in public, because it is a sign of weakness for them.  I truly believe that these behaviors are instilled at a young age and then just nurtured by society throughout adulthood.  

I know it will take a lot of hard, consistent work to make sure my child has the confidence to be proud of the person they are and not care what other people think of them.  I just really really hope that no matter how challenging it might be, that they don't give in to what others expect them to be just because of the genitalia they were born with.  Hopefully Michael and I can equip our child with the tools to gain the inner strength to be ok with who they are, and continue to defend that (if need be) when Michael and I can no longer do it.  

Crossing my fingers, not for a boy or girl, but for a happy, healthy human being.

Lost but not forgotten...

In June of this year I experienced a miscarriage.  I only knew I was pregnant for about 4 days before I began to miscarry.  But those 4 days were some of the best days of my life.  My whole world was turned upside down by a simple pink plus sign.  I couldn't believe how happy I was.

And less than a week later, I experienced one of the greatest bouts of sadness that I had ever felt.  When the doctor said it was "not a viable pregnancy," I was speechless.  And then for a couple of weeks when I wasn't speechless, I was crying.  It was incredibly painful trying to figure out why I was in so much pain.  I hadn't actually had the child.  I wasn't even pregnant "long enough" to establish a strong connection with the baby.

I finally allowed myself to realize that a loss is a loss.  The moment I found out I was pregnant I had created a whole life for that baby.  Goals, dreams, fears, hopes.  It was as real to me as any other person  I know.  After weeks of mourning and healing, I started to feel a little bit better.  And right around that time I found out I was pregnant...again.

I had taken the pregnancy test by myself (last time I took it with Michael).  I still smiled with excitement, but was very concerned.  I wasn't sure if I could do a round two of the previous months.  When I finally got to go to the doctor, she said something that tapped into one of my fears: my progesterone levels were critically low and if I didn't do something about it I was going to the lose the baby.

Luckily, taking extra hormones during my first trimester fixed all of that and we got out of the danger zone.  The further the pregnancy goes along, the more confident I get that everything is going to be alright and the more excited I get to meet him/her.  But...I can't seem to forget the baby I lost, the baby I now refer to as Baby June.

Of course, I never actually expected to forget Baby June.  But I have actually been feeling a bit of guilt.  Like by having this new baby, I'm completely ignoring the fact that Baby June ever existed.  And I couldn't help but feel that Baby June was still present in my life (like, the spirit of) and upset, thinking that I loved this current baby more.  Some kind of invisible sibling rivalry so to speak.  I was actually up all night worried about this one day.

I'm still coming to terms with the fact that the miscarriage "wasn't my fault."  And I'm trying to let myself believe that if Baby June is looking down on me now, that they aren't upset, but rather happy for his/her parents.  But I know, until the day I die, I will never ever forget that baby.  And I will always love it with all of my heart, just as much as I love my current baby.  There is no comparison between the two.  They are/were both my children.  And that's all that matters.