It's A Girl

Yesterday Magic Man and I had our 20 week ultrasound and found out we are the proud parents to be of a little girl. I won't say I was hoping for a boy but I did have a hunch, as did everyone else in the Western hemisphere, that it was a boy. When the lovely tech said it was a girl I almost started to cry. Not out of sadness but out of... well... out of the fact I'm crazy. This was one more plan I had that was shaken up.

But.

We're having a little girl. And we will raise her to be strong and confident and ambitious and passionate and kind. She will never have a doubt that she is loved or beautiful. She will reap from me all the knowledge I've gained over the years of what it means to be a woman and all the knowledge I continue to gather. From her father she will learn that she is worthy of the moon and any man who will give her less is not worth her time.

I am scared to death of raising a girl: tea parties, nail painting, and let's not even get started on adolescence which was none too kind to me. More than frightened, though, I am excited for her to join me on my journey and for me to be a part of hers.

Meltdown

The whole time I've been pregnant I've had a feeling that I was having a boy. Tomorrow is the "big ultrasound" where they make sure Niblet is actually a human being and we'll hopefully find out if Niblet is, in fact, a boy or a girl. Assuming he or she's not being modest. Which doesn't run in either side of the family.

So that's tomorrow. And last night I wondered, "What if I'm wrong and we are having a girl? Then what do I do?" I've spent all this time being confident and cocky that we were having a boy. Mother's intuition or whatnot. You see, I'm a tomboy. I've gotten more... feminine... as I've gotten older, but I was a tomboy growing up. I worry that if I have a girl, she'll be the girliest girl, and I'll just spend all my time staring at her like a foreign alien wondering what on Earth to do with her.

All these ideas struck me about the time Magic Man and I went to bed. His tired self was not nearly as interested in my gender fearing meltdown as I was.

On the bright side of all this, at least I live in an age where I do get to find out one way or the other. And I will be happy no matter what gender the Niblet is. I just had a plan that it was a boy and the good Lord likes to mess with my plans so I worry less and rely on Him more. He's tricky like that. So now I don't know what to do. But think and over analyze and get stressed out over something that... is really silly to get all worked up about.

So I shall be calm tomorrow and excited to find out if Nibs is a boy or a girl.
And instead focus my worrying energy today on something else that is silly to worry about... like the fact I can't find my iTunes gift card. (Hey, I never said I'd stop worrying.)

Mmm, doughnuts...

When Magic Man and I were engaged I received some fabulous advice from a wonderful woman. She said, "Find your own normal." No two engagements, marriages, or couples look and act the same so there's no reason to compare and contrast oneself with anyone else. If I wanted to wear bright orange flats under my wedding dress then that was totally fine. It was our normal.

I find myself having similar problems during this pregnancy. Wondering if what I'm thinking or feeling is "normal." I know of the abnormal things; Magic Man already has orders that if he comes home and finds me eating paper to get to me the doctor stat. But what about wanting to eat a can of pineapple chunks for dinner? Or crying my eyes out when I watch an episode of The Office I've seen no less than 9 million times? Or sleeping at any time, anywhere, with or without drool? Or, you know, telling my husband that the baby is his child today because it's causing my hip to hurt.

Yesterday I had a moment of clarity on the whole normal issue.
I got heartburn for the first time in years.
From a DOUGHNUT.

That is not normal. But at the same time, during this season of life, it is 100% normal. So I'm giving up on trying to figure out if I'm a normal pregnant woman or not. I'm just going to go along day to day being the best pregnant woman I know how to be. It's a time of learning and growing and resting and taking care of myself in order to take care of my baby. If that means going to bed at 8 on New Year's Eve is weird--so be it.