The Waiting is the Hardest Part

In just a few hours I'm going in for a Level II ultrasound. Obviously, we are hopeful that the scan reveals nothing other than a healthy, growing baby. Still, I can't help feeling nervous. We went through the same test with Brendan due to my previous miscarriage that resulted from the baby's chromosomal abnormality, trisomy 8.

So, on pins and needles we sat (or laid, in my case) in the exam room while the ultrasound tech and the perinatologist did their thing until they finally told us we had a very healthy looking baby. Then they told us it was a boy. Of course, we were thrilled. Both by the good news on the health front and by his gender.

I had always seen myself as the mother of boys. I never really imagined having girl children. Obviously, I knew it was a possibility, but when I saw myself as a mom, it was as a mom to boys, doing fun boys stuff like shooting hoops and playing chase and baking cookies endlessly for them and their friends.

At some point, prior to that ultrasound, I thought it might be a good idea to not know the child's sex. To fall in love with a human being rather than a boy or girl. But, you get five months to work on that before you find out, I suppose. And for me, everything changed on learning that little babe growing inside me was a boy.

I think part of my nervous anticipation today is in regard to whether I carry a boy or girl child. Of course it is. I have waffled these entire twenty weeks, first wanting a brother for Brendan, then a daughter for myself. Now, I've just settled on healthy. Boy or girl. I still don't have a clue what you're supposed to do with a daughter. Zero interest in Barbie, princesses, brushing someone else's hair, teaching someone to sit with her legs closed, prepubescent and teenage hormones, or slumber parties with a gaggle of giggling girls. I don't know what I will do with a girl, but I guess I'll figure it out. One thing's for sure, I can always pressure her to attend my alma mater.

All I know is that he or she, I will love this little person with all my heart. I've been terrified since before I got pregnant that I could never love another child as much as I love Brendan. I've been surprised (pleasantly, I should add) to find the love in my heart growing. And I'm sure that just as my love for Scott has grown stronger and deeper and more passionate as I have watched him be a father to our son, that my love for Brendan will change and grow as I see him become a big brother.

Now, in these last few hours, I think I will simply enjoy loving this little being with no judgments, no preconceived notions, no desires of my own for what he or she might be some day. Just love him or her for the perfect creation he or she is.