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October 11, 2005 / allyo

Happy Birthday

When I pictured raising a child, I always pictured raising a girl. I’d teach her to be a strong, confident, independent woman. I’d teach her to love her body and her appearance, and how to make good choices in life.

When I got pregnant I wanted to find out the gender for a couple of reasons. One, I just didn’t want to wait, and I wanted to be free to buy gender-specific clothing and plan accordingly. Two, if we were having a boy, I wanted time to prepare. I knew nothing about raising boys, I was, and always have been, a girly-girl at heart who loved dolls and dresses and was disdainful of loud voices and rough manners. Of course, I also loved digging in the dirt, swinging, climbing trees, and rollercoasters, and I needed time to remember that, if we were having a boy. Of course, deep down, I was sure I would have a daughter.

So when we had the 22-week ultrasound and the results were inconclusive (Jamie was a wee bit shy that day – only day of his life I’m sure), I figured I was right. Then, my ob, who I loved for so many reasons, and who I hated for many more, at the next exam, my ob, she said, "Let’s take a peek!" That’s the day we found out we were 99% certain of having a boy.

Was I disappointed? Maybe for a split-second, although Mad Dog is shocked everytime I own up to it. I think it’s better described as a pang. After all, some long-held dreams of mine had just been flushed down the toilet. So, I did what any girl might do, to make herself feel better. I went shopping. (Yes, I KNOW not all women like to shop. My sister is one such strange creature.)

I think it was during a trip to Old Navy, when I bought denim overalls, and a striped onsie/hat/sock outfit, complete with sweatshirt hoodie, that I realized, hey, I can buy cute clothes for boys too. And I’ve known lots of wonderful men in my life, how wonderful would it be to raise one myself? And I started warming up to the idea of raising a son.

Then, of course, once my son was actually born, from the moment I saw his head emerge, to the moment when he slipped out of my body and was laid on my chest, to the moment when I yanked my hospital gown off my shoulders, so eager I was to feel MY BABY on my bare breast, skin to skin, from those moments on, I was in love.


This past year has been the best of my life, and I’ll let you in on a little secret. It just keeps getting better. That’s right. That’s the miraculous thing about childhood. Each day is the best day ever. Each stage, each age, best ever. Once Jamie hits puberty, eh, maybe we’ll backslide a little. But right now, having a one-year-old son is magical.

Happy birthday sweet boy. I am so lucky to be your mama. I love you.



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