LagerDad is one of four boys (his poor mother), everyone on my side is a boy and girl pair so when I was pregnant first time round it was automatically assumed this must be a boy.
The midwife said ‘If i had to hedge my bets, old wives tales would suggest this heartbeat is that of a boy‘. So I was pretty convinced my baby was going to have a willy & ball bag. Lost count of the amount of times I heard….”You’re definitely carrying like a boy“. How the hell can you carry differently for different genders anyway – is it a myth?! (Clearly was in my case).
So the twenty week scan came, all healthy, phew. Brilliant. But let’s face it, once you know all is well you’re super keen to know what you’re pro-creating. For me, it was the time where the pregnancy would suddenly feel more real, where I could then bond with the baby as a ‘he’…or ‘she’.
Up they went back scanning telling us they knew what it was already….”look for the three lines” – three lines, huh?
I was in disbelief as they zoomed in and showed me around an area which should have been an aubergine emoji…. A girl. A bloody girl! Most women would have been ecstatic, a girl’s all they’ve ever wanted. LagerDad’s mum would have leapt in the air and cartwheeled round the sonographer’s room if she’d heard those words during her pregnancies I’m sure.
But me? I admit, I was disappointed. LagerDad was shocked at my reaction stating “I’ve never seen anyone so disappointed to be told they’re having a healthy baby“.
In my mind, I’d already picked the dungarees and the little timberland boots I wanted to buy after the appointment to celebrate our little bundle of blue. In fact, the edge was completely taken off of our ‘one outfit shopping trip’ scheduled for after the appointment and I begrudgingly picked a blue and red babygro with bows on and sulkily made my way home.
It can’t just be me…..can it?!
[Note: Sofia if you ever read this when you’re older, I couldn’t have wished for a better first born. Gender really doesn’t matter!)