I Got a Boy
By Stacey Tucker
Boy, n.: a noise with dirt on it.~Not Your Average Dictionary
When I got pregnant it was exciting, but scary. I was thirty-three at the time. For most of my twenties, I didn't think I wanted children. But as I aged, I realized I did want a child. So, after three years of marriage, we were ready to try. Throughout the early weeks of pregnancy, I focused on my physical changes. I managed the nausea and weight gain and mood swings pretty well. There was also one thing I knew for sure: I wanted a girl.
Being a girl was all I knew. I am an only child and was always a girly girl. Before I got pregnant and through my early weeks of pregnancy, I did as much positive thinking and law of attraction work that one person can do. I was preparing for my girl. My mother had died in 2004, and I was ready to name my daughter Alexandra after my mother. We had it all set.
Twenty weeks of pregnancy finally arrived. Ultrasound wand on the belly, the technician gave me the news: "It's a boy!" I was in shock. As soon as I started to breathe again, I burst into tears. A boy. I couldn't believe it. The possibility of having a boy honestly never entered my mind. I cried all the way home from the doctor's office and all that night. What was I going to do with a boy? I hate sports and dirt.
Fast forward to Jackson's birth. When the nurse handed that little bundle to me, I thought I had never seen such perfection. All I wanted to do was take care of this little boy and love him with my whole being. I felt so ashamed of myself for thinking even for a second that I wanted a girl instead of this amazing creature looking at me with his giant blue eyes. I cried tears of happiness and tears of sadness simultaneously. My son was truly a lesson from God. He knew a boy would be good for me. Girls I knew, but boys?
Oh, what a world I have discovered and grown to appreciate. Every day with my son is a lesson for me on stepping outside my comfort zone. Instead of sitting in a chair at the beach, I am chasing a boy who is chasing seagulls. Instead of getting my nails painted, I am getting my face painted to support our favorite sports team. Instead of playing with dolls, I am playing with trucks. I have made peace with dirt, dead things, living things, mystery liquids and chocolate milk on the sofa. I have learned that getting jumped on, stepped on, kicked by flailing limbs and head butts are all forms of "wrestling." I have had to get in shape to keep up with my toddler and change my wardrobe to accommodate impromptu batting practice and tackle football in the yard. I have learned not to wear flip-flops in the woods.
My son has taught me how to remain in the present moment, no daydreaming on the job. My son has taught me how to laugh at myself and at everyday experiences. Rolling down a hill can actually be fun, and water guns on a hot day can be refreshing. My son has taught me how to be more open -- open to love someone else and open to love myself. He is my perpetual lesson in absolute faith in our own perfection. I am supposed to be the teacher in this relationship, but I seem to be learning something new every day. One thing I know for sure: I am so thankful I got a boy.
Twenty weeks of pregnancy finally arrived. Ultrasound wand on the belly, the technician gave me the news: "It's a boy!" I was in shock. As soon as I started to breathe again, I burst into tears. A boy. I couldn't believe it. The possibility of having a boy honestly never entered my mind. I cried all the way home from the doctor's office and all that night. What was I going to do with a boy? I hate sports and dirt.
Fast forward to Jackson's birth. When the nurse handed that little bundle to me, I thought I had never seen such perfection. All I wanted to do was take care of this little boy and love him with my whole being. I felt so ashamed of myself for thinking even for a second that I wanted a girl instead of this amazing creature looking at me with his giant blue eyes. I cried tears of happiness and tears of sadness simultaneously. My son was truly a lesson from God. He knew a boy would be good for me. Girls I knew, but boys?
Oh, what a world I have discovered and grown to appreciate. Every day with my son is a lesson for me on stepping outside my comfort zone. Instead of sitting in a chair at the beach, I am chasing a boy who is chasing seagulls. Instead of getting my nails painted, I am getting my face painted to support our favorite sports team. Instead of playing with dolls, I am playing with trucks. I have made peace with dirt, dead things, living things, mystery liquids and chocolate milk on the sofa. I have learned that getting jumped on, stepped on, kicked by flailing limbs and head butts are all forms of "wrestling." I have had to get in shape to keep up with my toddler and change my wardrobe to accommodate impromptu batting practice and tackle football in the yard. I have learned not to wear flip-flops in the woods.
My son has taught me how to remain in the present moment, no daydreaming on the job. My son has taught me how to laugh at myself and at everyday experiences. Rolling down a hill can actually be fun, and water guns on a hot day can be refreshing. My son has taught me how to be more open -- open to love someone else and open to love myself. He is my perpetual lesson in absolute faith in our own perfection. I am supposed to be the teacher in this relationship, but I seem to be learning something new every day. One thing I know for sure: I am so thankful I got a boy.
