Girl or Boy?

For anyone who is still wondering, the answer is – we don’t know.

Unlike most of our generation, we wanted to find out, and actively sought an ultrasound to check. Why? Because thinking up 1 set of names is easier than 2, and much as I hate buying gender-specific clothing, the annoying shops of Australia have distinctly pink or blue clothing. (Rather than the dark grey, moss green or pale yellow offerings all over Europe. Why I didn’t buy more clothes there, I don’t know.)

Anyway, the ultrasound was inconclusive. Baby was covering its crotch with its hands, then had its little legs crossed on top of it, just to make life difficult. The sonographer’s final verdict was “60% girl” because he “couldn’t see any boy bits.” Which, as far as we are concerned, is as good as saying 50/50.

So we wait with bated breath.

The next “natural” question that I have been incessantly asked is “What does it feel like?”

Honestly, I don’t understand that question. Granted, it is fun to wonder. But when someone (ie – many women I meet who comment on my belly) starts to take such things too seriously, it really annoys me. Besides, if you are a stranger, why do you care?

So, what am I supposed to be feeling??? Firstly, no: I can’t feel a little penis or vulva rubbing against my uterus: which is a muscle, not a sensory organ, in the first place. Secondly, how the f*ck does a male or female fetus feel like? The unscientific nonsense about boys being more active, and girls being more …I don’t know what… is yet another sexual label that I hope not to impart to my child, whatever sex it ends up being. Thirdly, how does what I dream about have anything to do with what sex the child will turn out to be? Believing in dreams is a bit like believing in organised religion, good for some but not my thing. And fourthly, how does what shape my stomach is, what food I crave or how my face looks like have anything to do with it? If someone can find me evidence that such “methods” are consistently proven successful in predicting the sex of an unborn child, please let me know.

If you are going to ask me questions, I think the emphasis should be on how mum and dad are doing (Great!), what our dreams are for our child (Many!), or some other meaningful question about my health, how I’m looking after myself, and how well and happy I look. Or better yet, talk to me about me, rather than my baby. Because my existence doesn’t stop at being a mother or having a child. I would like to hope that I am still a capable member of society (on top of being a sleep-deprived milk mamma) with interesting ideas and valued opinions. If you care about me (and us) please keep that in mind.