Oh BOY

It's a boy. At the big 20week ultrasound we saw it, a penis. It was exciting and shocking all at the same time. It was there, unmistakable, as if to say, "Look at me world, these are man-parts." I don't know who was more excited, me or Rob. I was thrilled to be right (I had thought it was a boy) and he was grinning ear to ear at acknowledging the reality of a son. As I lay there all goopy from ultrasound gel, I thought about mother-son dancing at his wedding, toddler size polo shirts, and little boy hair cuts. I also thought about the penis. The little boy parts he would possess began to freak me out.

We left the doctor's office with our VHS tape in hand, evidence of our little boy. (It is entirely outdated technology, but my doctor is on the verge of retirement and thinks it's the greatest thing when he informs you to bring a VHS tape along to record the ultrasound findings. I had grudgingly purchased a 5-pack (because they no longer sell single tapes) to insure we would have these memories for years to come. That is, once we convert the media to a source we can actually view.) The drive home was cliche-ridden and oh-so-super-sweet. Rob teared up and gushed about how perfect it was to have one of each. I confessed that I hadn't known until that moment that this was exactly what I had wanted. As amazing as that moment was, in the back of my mind a little seed of anxiety began to sprout.

The days began to pass and news spread among our family, friends, and strangers at the supermarket (talking is one of those things I have a hard time not doing). I became bombarded with the same two questions. "Have you picked out any names?" and "Are you going to circumcise?" One of these inquiries left me a little unsettled. Unsettled by the fact that everyone wanted to know, and uneasy about the quandary regarding this newly discovered penis. Regardless if we circumcise or not, I'm starting to think it's none of MY business, let alone anyone else's.

Needless to say, I'm a little anxious about becoming a mom this second time around with the addition of male reproductive parts. It never bothered me with Grace, "cleaning out all the nooks," as people say. "Oh, boys are SO much easier," they inform me. Really? Keeping Grace's diapered bits in working order doesn't strike me as something of difficulty. There is a comfort, or ease to having a daughter. You have the same parts, she has the same parts, and it's all pretty straightforward. Now a penis on the other hand, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?? The only penis experience on my resume is of the adult consensual kind. Not the appropriate kind of behavior to bolster mother-son bonding. I know I'm over thinking this, but watching friends change their baby boys lately has got me thinking (and also feeling a smidge like a pedophile).

I will look back once this is all said and done and probably laugh at myself. While it will make for some great stories, I'm sure my adventures with the boy will be pretty standard. Mothers have been having baby boys for centuries, I can probably handle it. Just not too much handling, I don't want to get reported.