My rant centers around the joyous news that we’re expecting another baby boy. When we first found out, I was ecstatic – mainly because I had been hoping for a little brother for Ryder. Now please don’t misunderstand – I have nothing against baby girls; in fact, had Ryder been born a girl, I would have been secretly wishing for a little sister instead. The reason? I’m all about practicality. I love that I can re-use Ryder’s clothes, the boys can sleep/bathe/play together, and since I’ve already mastered the art of taking care of pee pees, there’s no real change in mindset for me.
The best part? Since baby-to-be is due right around Ryder’s second birthday, I already have clothing in the correct sizes for each season. How awesome is that? A lot of people don’t realize the importance, but consider this: 0-3 month sized clothing for a male child born in May (shorts, tees, sunhats, etc) means nothing if your next male child is born in November. So we also consider ourselves pretty lucky in this respect.
But here’s my disclaimer: had our bun in the oven been on Team Pink, I would have gladly donated Ryder’s clothing and gone on a frilly, girly, pastel pink shopping spree. (Yahoo!) It would have been equally awesome to have one of each, and experience the elitism of a “Millionaire’s Family.” I think that daughters are wonderful creatures, and have a sensitive, enduring way about them that few boys can ever match. I will truly miss out on that special brand of relationship that mothers and daughters share.
But my point is – every baby is a blessing.
Now for the rant. Since we found out our baby’s gender, we are happy to inform friends, neighbours and inquiring strangers that we’re expecting a second baby boy. About half the time, we receive the (very appropriate) “Congratulations!” – and the other half, we’re asked in the same breath “So are you going to try again for a girl?”
I can’t fathom why people think this is an appropriate question. It’s like asking someone after they get married, “So, when do you think you’ll divorce your spouse and find a better one?” or inquiring about new job prospects after someone is promoted. The message: Your good news is not good enough.
I always cradle my hand protectively over my bump and think really hard, “You are LOVED, little baby. You are loved, wanted and accepted no matter if you are boy, girl or green with pointy horns.” And then I unleash my most flattering smile, and ask sweetly, “Now why would I want to try again?”
The respondent usually stumbles their way through the predicted “Oh, you know, so you can have one of each” – to which I respond very slowly, “Well, if we do try again, it will be because we want to expand our family, and will happily accept whatever God blesses us with.”
Now I know I’m opening up a can of worms because there may be family members, close friends and random acquaintances who are guilty of posing this question to me – to which I say, Tough noogies. Smarten up. I’m not going to make my little nudger feel bad about being a boy just because you have some petty notion of the “perfect” family. I come from a Millionaire’s Family, and let me tell you, I spent about 20 years wishing my older brother was an older sister (sorry dude, you know I love you but it’s true).
So here’s my two cents to all those who feel it’s appropriate to rain on the parade of expecting parents: You suck. Seriously. I’m not kidding.
In closing, let’s just all pray for healthy, beautiful bouncing babies – just as nature intended. As for trying again? Who knows. Maybe we will, and maybe we’ll have another boy. And perhaps they’ll form a band and make gazillions of dollars and have girls drooling over life-sized posters of them. Tragic, huh?