No daughter wants this conversation to occur:
“So, dad. What was your reaction when you first saw me on the sonogram?”
“Well, dear. I was kind of hoping you were a boy. But I got you instead.”
No son, of course, wants that conversation to occur either. So I began mentally preparing myself for today’s sonogram. For years, even before I was married, I wanted a boy. Don’t most men want to have at least one boy? Someone to carry on the patriarchal seed? Or just someone with whom they can be equal around the house?
Yet soothsayers abound in my family and circle of friends. My dad never said “I hope you have a girl.” Instead, it was “You’re having a girl.” As if his words would end up in the driver’s seat of the sperm’s journey to the egg. And remember the moment when the pregnant Virgin Mary meets Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s womb jumps? Elizabeth immediately knew that Mary was full of grace and was carrying someone special. We had a similar encounter with my friend Mike. As soon as we walked in the door to his home, he gave Laura the once-over: “You’re totally having a girl.” And on it went. Relatives wishing for the girl. Friends insisting that Laura’s cravings and weight gain suggested two X chromosomes.
Naturally my grin was wider than normal today when the sonogram technician exclaimed the gender. I ultimately had the last laugh. Yes, I smiled because I was looking at my child’s face for the first time. But the smile was also one of triumph over the fortune tellers of the womb.
And they’ll be just as happy on May 10 when they meet my son.