Oh Boy, What Will This Baby Be…

There seems to be a good bit of curiosity surrounding the gender of this baby on the Brehm. I mean, of course I wonder what it will be. As does Adam. And B has simply decided what it is…while J can’t always discern between my boobs, the Beeb or my booty. But as I blogged about while gestating Jonah, everyone has a thought. Or at least every stranger or onlooker. Because when you trot about in public with two testicle possessing tots and a bump on your front, everyone wants to know what brand of bun is baking in the mama’s oven. And they are flabbergasted that we wouldn’t find out.

Strangers have questioned if my symptoms are different this time. Not really, except this whole massive boob business, at 25 weeks I can say, this pregnancy mirrors the others in appearance, nausea, and all things pregnant. And they’ve told me I’m carrying high {If I told you where the Beeb kicks, you’d perhaps think otherwise} which I’ve yet to pinpoint what that exactly is supposed to indicate. And my personal favorite is the woman who asked me to turn around so she could see if I looked pregnant from behind. Neat. {Yes, these people really exist.}

Initially, the Mr. and I tossed around an early gender reveal on this fourth pregnancy. The first reason: simplicity. The simplicity of washing all the boy clothes and having them ready. Or stocking up on girl clothes. One less thing to do once the babe enters our world and turns it all topsy turvy. But we’ve made it through the initial months {ahem.} without that preparation in the past so that was not the driving force behind our discussion. But the second and maybe more compelling reason was that not having ever known the sex in advance, it would be something different or special to this pregnancy; a new way to experience the reveal and to feel more ready.

And then, one day, I sat sandwiched between two moms. Boy moms, to be exact. Two moms who I didn’t know from Pete but each had two boys splashing in the pool in front of me. The first mom, nearly due with her third and the other had just found out that day that in about 20 weeks time, they’d be welcoming their last little son into the family. And that second mom, well she was in tears. An emotional wreck. And the mom next to me told her it would eventually be okay. Because it only took her a month to get over the sadness. And while I can’t totally explain it, that’s when I knew. I knew we’d for sure save the grand reveal for the Live Studio Audience during the big show.

I suppose it was because at that very moment, I realized that we already know that when Jonah popped out with a penis, we did not, for a moment, have any thought other than pure joy. Joy that he was there. That he was breathing. That I got to snuggle him on my chest. That we’d welcomed a sibling to Barrett and another healthy son. And this one, without any initial red flags. Baby bliss… Sans gender. Likely because we didn’t have any time to think about any other reaction.

I’m not trying to be obtuse and I have no opposition, whatsoever, to people finding out the gender as early as possible because there is certainly a chance that this time could and will feel different. Because if this baby is a boy and not a girl, we won’t ever know what it is to raise a little girl. I will be destined for a life of dragging Barrett, Jonah and the Beeb for mommy/little man mani pedis. Adam and I will not ever purchase a prom dress. My little men may never make it home for a Holiday once they are wed. And among the hundreds of other girl things, most pointed-out, we will never walk a little lady down the aisle. All of which I have been told by many girl moms is a near travesty for my world. NEWSFLASH… we didn’t get to go to the store and pick out the gender of any of our children… {I have no doubt these moms didn’t know they were being rude… and now I’m off that soapbox}.

But I also know the beauty of all things boy. It’s just what we do or at least have done. I hear there will be seemingly less drama in those fun teen times. I know of brothers and of “my boys”. Of having all the clothes. And of course, changing diapers without all those extra folds and business. And while prior to Barrett I always pictured myself as a girl mom {I’m a fairly girly girl with my love for makeup and sparkles}, for the past 4.5 years, I’ve been a mom to boys and I’ve not felt like anything was ever missing. Oh and let’s not forget, I’ve been an auntie to all boys up until one year ago when a little girl came on the scene. There are eight little boys on the Brehm side. Six little boys on the Eickman side. And one lone little miss. So if we were taking this bet to Vegas, welllll…

And to answer the BIG question… Do I want a girl? ABSOLUTELY. And do I want a boy? YOU BETCHA. I love that I have a brother and a sister; that I get to experience both relationships. But this one baby isn’t twins and as far as we’re concerned, we’re getting off the baby train post-delivery, so one or the other, sister or brother, we will love the Beeb just the same {though you may on occasion see this boy donning bows…}.

We will have to wait and see what this babe will be. Because as B has told us time and time again, you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit {thank you, pre-school}. Barrett believes it is a girl and cannot understand why, on earth, we would tell people it’s likely going to be a boy. Adam doesn’t ever really weigh in on the topic. And I believe that both grandmas are envisioning pink. But my guess, on this very day {because it does change, every day.} is blue, blue, blue. And before we know it, I suppose we’ll see if that’s true.