We found out last Tuesday that Baby Rebel is a boy. And that he is already living up to his, now well loved, nickname.
While it’d have been fun to experience life with a mini-me/girl, I realized very quickly, I’m best suited to be raising a boy. Make-up, princesses, actual style? I’d be a hot mess. Totally lost. I wouldn’t know what to do. Dirt, Tonkas, engines, bugs? I’ve got that.
It’s quite funny that I’m having a boy actually. Women who are/have been pregnant or have children, know exactly what I’m talking about with what I’m going to say next…
Pregnancy seems to give the people around you a pair of brass balls. You get a lot of advice that you – guess what? Don’t even have to ask for! But you also hear all of those infamous old wives tales. The gender ones. The second the world around me was clued into my pregnancy, they came.
The only thing that indicated boy was the position of my bump and the low heart rate we were hearing on the doppler. Now, right off, I ruled out how I was carrying. Because of the positioning of my hips (tilted), my spine (from my disease), and the way things are tipped and tilted inside – I’m going to carry low regardless.
Everyone swore it was a girl. Morning sickness all day, that went away for week 21, but has since returned again in week 22. My face looks like a teenage girl’s face (she’s stealing my beauty). Among many other “tales”…
When the woman doing the sonogram announced “It’s a boy!” I pat my belly and smiled. Baby Rebel is already defying the world around him, and he isn’t even out of the womb.
Proving the world wrong, step one, check.
Just like mommy.
He’s an active little boy. The sonogram was hard to do because he wouldn’t hold still, and the heart beat on the doppler was fascinating as hell because in-between his heart beats, we’d hear “Whoooosh!” because he was still on the move.
He has been fascinated with kicking my belly button, I’ll poke my belly and tell him to cut it out, but it just makes him more persistent. We needed him to move just right to get a full spinal picture on the sonogram, but as he flipped all around, he wouldn’t show his back.
Don’t ever say no or stop, step two, check.
Needless to say, my little man already is trailing in momma’s footsteps, much to daddy’s worry.
So I guess we won’t tell daddy that momma’s worried about all the crazy things daddy did when he was younger, and our little guy wanting to do the same.
I guess I’m going to get a taste of my own medicine, aren’t I?