Mama's Boy

Today, exactly one year ago, the perinatologist pressed the transducer against my rounding belly. He confirmed that the baby’s spine was developing beautifully. Then he asked, in heavily accented English, “Do you weesh to know zee geeender?”

“Yes!” I shouted out, surprised. We had planned to find out at our next regular check up, but the level two ultrasound apparently had already made things clear. Jonathan rolled his eyes a little. He preferred to keep the sex a surprise, but I had prevailed.

“A boy,” the doctor said, matter of factly, continuing the ultrasound. “You are having a boy.”

My eyes twitched. A boy? ME?!? What was I going to do with a boy? I looked at Jonathan, taking in his huge smile and surprised eyes. Everyone had assumed I was having a girl.

I looked at the monitor, watching that kicking, floating ball of energy. I took in the fluttering heartbeat, the area the doctor had indicated, the tiny hand pushing back at the transducer.

A boy.

I was having a son.


I began to cry; warm tears of joy fell down my cheeks.

It was another step in God’s master plan to convince me that He had planned things out perfectly, despite refusing to consult my preconceived notions.

I had always imagined life with a daughter. A little bit of curls and lace, ribbons and bows. But the second the doctor said he was a boy, I knew I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Notice the banged up head? Already all boy!

 Dear Larkin,

You are all boy. You are feisty and fiery. You are always covered in scrapes and bumps, and you somehow manage to get dirt under your fingernails all the time (seriously - how do you do that?!?). You are sweet and tenderhearted and you adore your mama. I’m so very glad that God gave us you, just as you are. You are amazing.

And just remember that being a mama’s boy isn’t really as bad a thing as they say it is.

To the moon… and back,

Mommy