Baby Baking is a weekly pregnancy series written almost entirely by our pregnant writer, Vanessa. Note, official DudeMom is not, now or ever again, expecting a baby.
Half way through this pregnancy and we went in for the 20 week ultrasound.
The one where they check for all of the important stuff: 10 fingers, 10 toes, good looking heart, vagina.
We got a ton of great photos.
We’ve got all of the fingers, all of the toes, a gorgeous heart, and wait a minute, WHERE IS HER VAGINA?
I’d like to introduce you to DudeBaby, scheduled to make an appearance some time in mid January!
In case you didn’t register my shock at the fact that MY DAUGHTER HAS A PENIS. Let me tell you, I was shocked.
Here’s what you need to know about me: I’m a control freak.
I like to be in control of things in my life. I’m not easy going. I like to know what to expect. I have a schedule and a plan and I follow it.
This little quirk also causes me to be an über planner. Totally comes in handy if you’re my friend and in need of help planning any sort of party. I can pull off a Pinterest worthy affair in hours. Not that I would appreciate that since I’m not spontaneous and don’t like being asked to do things at the last minute. But, give me a week and party awesome will be achieved (without me hating you for messing up my schedule).
I’m sure you’re all thinking that motherhood is going to teach me a few lessons about life and going with the flow.
Pregnancy has already done that. As I sit here at 20 weeks, still throwing up multiple times a day, I’ve learned that I can’t control everything.
I had all of these pre-pregnancy visions of what it would be like. I’d be glowing, and all belly, and radiating joy from my uterus onto the world from my prenatal yoga class. Only, I’m pale and green from barfing all the time, I’m more boobs and back than belly, my best joy is when I’m sleeping, and I’m pretty sure if I tried to downward dog I’d barf all over the yoga studio. How’s that for ommmmm?
The vision of what type of pregnant person I wanted to be has gone out the window and I’m mostly ok with that.
But I was still hanging onto my motherhood daydreams. I envisioned myself dressing my daughter in cute little sundresses, and taking her to dance class. We’d sing and dance to whatever new catchy Taylor Swift song was out on our way home from her first mani pedi, then I’d braid her hair, and put her in her fuzzy slippers, and we’d bake cookies and watch Frozen so we could sing all of the songs together for the hundredth time in a row.
When she hit the teen years she’d give me hell like I gave my mom when I was a teenager (Sorry, Mom!), and I’d teach her to be a strong and independent woman who doesn’t take any crap from anyone (Thanks, mom!).
Only, monkey wrench in that plan because, my daughter is actually a son.
I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t completely overjoyed when I heard the news.
Of course I’m so thankful that he is healthy. Of course.
But… he’s a HE.
It took me a bit to wrap my mind around that. I feel like a terrible person to say this out loud, but I wanted a girl.
I wanted a girl.
And now, I feel out of my element. I didn’t plan for this. And, I don’t get little boys. I don’t understand the things they like. They’re loud and wild and tell fart jokes. My visions turned from spending Saturdays at dance recitals to hours at the football field. Or someplace else boys like to be.
Yes, I know I’m stereotyping and I can’t choose my child’s personality or interests. Maybe my daughter wouldn’t have been caught dead twirling around some dance studio in a tutu. Maybe I’ll still go to dance recitals to watch my son. Maybe he will fill me up in so many unexpected ways that I won’t even remember that I’d hoped they were mistaken about him not having any lady parts.
Maybe I’m over it now anyway.
New plan: be grateful. Be happy that he’s healthy, and growing, and mine!
So many women struggle to get pregnant and have to deal with test results that indicate a health issue. I’m grateful that I haven’t so far.
And anyway, I went on out and bought a few cute outfits and the cutest fabric for the nursery! Just because he’s a Dude doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate good style and design.
I love this baby more than anything already and, who knows, maybe I’ll even think his fart jokes are funny.