Our Little "it"!

Ever since the future arrived, and I’m referring to the invention of the “self check out aisle” at your local grocery store, the sensible and obviously popular choice expecting parents can make is to find out which sex their baby is. This juicy nugget of info allows parents to plan everything from which color to paint the nursery, to which male friend you will need to eventually watch around your future 18 year old daughter.

In these “On demand” times we live in where instant gratification isn’t just expected, it’s demanded, we tend to miss out on the little surprises life can offer us. So when Emily said she didn’t want to find out the sex of our baby, I immediately had to remind myself that was even an option. But when she explained to me what an incredible moment it will be when our baby is presented to us for the first time while the doctor exclaims, “It’s a …!!” I didn’t want to deprive us from having one of those extra special moments that have become so rare in our lives nowadays.

Our dance with the unknown began during our 19 week ultrasound when after seeing our baby swim around and suck its thumb, we were told to close our eyes if we didn’t want to see what we were having. I’ll admit I was very tempted to sneak a peek but resisted and covered my eyes with my hands. After that we were faced with constant challenges to overcome, finding a gender neutral paint color and crib, having to narrow down two lists of names, asking ourselves, and being asked, is this outfit acceptable for either gender? While we were registering for baby stuff, our only choice besides pink and blue was either, green and yellow. The standard response we get when telling people we are waiting to find out is, “I couldn’t do that! I would have to know.” We do meet rare people who say what we are doing is so cool. That last response is a total product of the times we live in. Just a couple decades ago, it was normal to not know what you were having, and I assume a lot easier to shop for.

This past weekend, Emily and I walked into a baby store and did the now familiar shuffle to the middle of the store, looking to one side to see the boys clothes, looking to the other side to see the girls clothes, then looking down and see the one rack dedicated to gender neutral clothing. I am not knocking our retail world. They need to stock products the majority of their patrons desire but how about a little effort for us few adventurous parents!

So far, we have managed to make everything work well for us, we picked a nursery theme fit for any child, began to collect suitable clothing, decided on names, and even created a baby playlist comprised of our favorite songs. The one thing we have not been able to work out is what to call our baby while its in utero. Most of the time, we say “it”, as in “I can feel it moving around!” but I don’t like to refer to my child as an “it”. It sounds cold and uncaring. I’ve tried out a couple nicknames but nothing has stuck yet. So as a last resort, I just call it the baby. “Hi baby! Hope you are comfortable in there.”

The other issue I have had to deal with is how to picture the baby when thinking about the future. Sometimes, I’m walking with my son down a beach, or dancing with my daughter in the living room. I suppose I should just tell myself that no matter what it is and who it becomes, we will love it more than anything and those joyful scenarios in my head will fit with whoever pops out to say “Hello.”

It's gonna be a soccer player!

The first few times Emily told me to put my hand on her belly to feel the baby kick, I wasn’t able to feel anything. It was pretty disappointing because I was really looking forward to this moment throughout the pregnancy up to that point. I thought I felt it a couple times, but Emily said, if she couldn’t feel it, then it must have been in my head. That quickly changed, however, recently when for the first time, I felt the nudge of my yet to be born offspring, saying hello from within.

Whether you’re religious or not, the word miracle gets thrown around a lot these days like a hooker in Charlie Sheen’s hotel room. In this case though, what’s going on inside my wife’s body truly is a miracle. Every week something new is happening to that child and with each new milestone it reaches, the more excited its parents are about finally meeting it face to face.

I have started to think about the different stages of life this child will eventually go through. It’s amazing that I have witnessed its very first moments it has ever experienced. Before we got pregnant, I didn’t fully understand how a parent feels about their children. I know my parents care about me and always have but I never really knew to what extent those feelings were. To say that you love someone, and that person isn’t even here walking around yet, is astonishing.

I recently began trying to communicate with the baby by talking to Emily’s belly. At first I felt kinda silly, and I’m sure Emily was equally uncomfortable. I mean its not like I had an existing relationship with her belly. I never spoke to it previously, and I think if I had, she would have slapped me away. After a couple times, it felt like I had already established a rapport with my youngling and I’m hopeful when they are born, my voice will be a welcoming and relaxing focal point in the chaotic delivery room.

As a father, you struggle to establish a real connection with the pregnancy that will allow you to feel like an equal partner. It’s easier for the mother because she lives it and feels it every hour of every day. So for the man, your paternal instincts kick into overdrive as a way to show you can be the protector and provider. I think I have managed to warn Emily to “Be careful” almost every hour I am with her. “You’re going to brush your teeth? Be careful you don’t lose your grip and swallow the toothbrush!” It’s a wonder, Emily hasn’t snapped at me yet. By doing this, I’m not trying to nitpick at her. I’m just trying to stay involved in some way. I may never have the connection Emily has and will have, with our baby and I’m ok with that. Motherhood is a whole other experience that I will never fully realize. Us fathers can only hope to be a warm and loving voice.

-AP