Tag Archives: Gender

4th February 2015

Finding out I was having a little boy – and then finding out that gender really doesn’t matter

BABY-S-19-WEEKS2I can’t remember exactly when I decided I wanted a little boy, but I think it was shortly after meeting my husband and imagining a little version of him.  He has always been very heavily into sport, especially rugby, and I loved the idea of watching him take a little boy by the hand and lead him off to mini rugby on a Sunday morning. I liked the idea of muddy eOiAu5Z3TIyOzdk_Q_frkK3lu5OGWmCfJaQsbBXUS0Ydog walks, lazy weekend afternoons watching sport with pizza, and dropping him off at football practice after school.  So I can’t remember the day, the month, or the year when I started dreaming about him, but I know he was in my mind for years before I did that pregnancy test.

As soon as I found out I was expecting a baby, I started to dream even more about this little boy. I knew there was a 50% chance I would be buying pink – but as the weeks went on, instinct told me that it would be blue. I could see his face (completely different to his actual face, I will add) and I was drawn to the blue outfits whenever I allowed myself a little browse in the shops.

At my 18 week appointment, my doctor  threw me by asking if we wanted to find out the sex. I hadn’t expected to be asked until the 20 week scan two weeks later. We looked at each other for a moment, before deciding that yes, we wanted to know.

I could feel my heart trying to leap out of my chest as she started to look with the scanning equipment. Names we had been discussing flashed through my head – as in just a few moments, I would be able to discount one set completely. But alas, my hopes were dashed when she paused and told us that she couldn’t be 100% sure as the baby was crossing its legs (stubborn from the beginning). But after looking again, she could she could take a very good guess that it was a boy, but couldn’t confirm it. My heart leaped, but I had to wait two weeks until it would be confirmed either way at the 20-week scan.

I tried not to get too excited – and two weeks later, as I lay on the bed and watched the outline of my wriggling baby pop up on the screen, I waited for confirmation, expecting a drumroll, before a big, emotional announcement. Hilariously, the sonographer confirmed it with: ‘There is the penis’. Not the way I was expecting to be told, but it has made us laugh ever since.

I went shopping after that and allowed myself to start a little blue wardrobe. I knew that I wanted more than one child and that it may be a total waste of money, but I couldn’t resist the soft powder blue blankets, the sleepsuits with blue elephants scattered across them, and the navy star-print swaddle wraps.

After that, of course, I didn’t think much more about it. I had my boy and that was wonderful. But I have to admit, that having given birth to that baby on a sunny April afternoon, I suddenly understand that gender doesn’t matter. I know I would have loved that baby with as much ferocity whether it had been a boy, a girl, or in fact an alien. And whilst my dreams for that child’s future would have to be adjusted a little, we would have been just as happy as we are now. I know that for a fact.

With that knowledge, the second time round just didn’t really matter. I was happy to have a little boy (I almost couldn’t bear the thought of those little blue outfits not getting a second outing), but I was equally happy for a sister to join us too. We got our second boy and were delighted – and I can very confidently tell you that if we went on to have a third, I would be equally happy with my third little man or our first little girl – so much so, that I don’t know if I’d even bother to find out the gender next time. It just wouldn’t matter.

So gender is a funny thing. You think it matters so much when you are first pregnant – but when that screaming baby is handed to you, it doesn’t matter a jot. I am a mummy of boys and very, very proud to be (so much so that I started a blog all about it!) – but I know I would be just as happy as a mummy of girls. Life has a funny way of working itself out just the way it should. And how perfect is that.


3rd September 2014

Dear Disappointed Person,

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I’m sorry that you find it tough getting used to the idea that I am happy with my two boys. I’m not pretending I am happy with a false smile on my face – but I am totally happy, wholly happy, wouldn’t-change-it-for-the-world happy that I got the combination of two consecutive boys.

What I wished for when I was pregnant is irrelevant (but for the record, I was desperate for a boy the first time and totally undecided the second). The point is that the very instant the doctor handed me my second boy, all pink and warm and squirming in my arms, I couldn’t imagine anything else. And whether he had been a boy, a girl, or in fact an alien, I would’ve been totally happy with my lot.

I am sorry that you have to ask constantly when we are planning to have a third child in the hope we get to add pink to our collection of newborn clothes. One day you may get your wish – but if you don’t, rest assured that I will not spend my life wishing I could swap my child.

When a picture of a scan or newborn baby is shared on the internet of a second, third, or fourth child of the consecutive sex, please try and hide your disappointment. Don’t cover your anguish by joking that the couple will have to try again soon to get their wished-for girl or boy. Believe me; jumping into bed is the last thing on their mind.

Don’t make jokes about the father of girls being disappointed he never got his boy. He couldn’t imagine anything else but his brood of girls, who have him totally wrapped around their little fingers. And don’t joke to the mum of boys that she is totally outnumbered and must crave a little girl time. She adores her energetic pack of little men (and likes the chance to escape to girly escapades when they head out with their Dad).

When families share the news that they are expecting a different gender to their existing children, you may want to congratulate them on winning the jackpot and having ‘the perfect family’. Go ahead. Their family is perfect. as the family of three girls, or four boys is perfect. How perfect that we are all so perfect!

I’m sorry that you find it tough getting used to the idea that I am happy with my two boys. Go pour yourself a large G&T and relax.

Love a Mum of Boys