Just another manic Saturday

This weekend, I am babysitting. And puppy-sitting. Watching this sweet 16-month-old, and watching G play with him, I am reminded just why I want another baby. Watching Dog-on-Crack, I am reminded just why I do not want a puppy. Ever. J, our dog, is old. She is calm and tolerant. Her worst infraction is sneaking onto the couch at night to sleep. She is a non-dog-lover's kind of dog. My kind of dog.

... total subject change: I talked to my mother yesterday. She mentioned that my sister was thinking of calling me now that she knows that I've been informed of this whole pregnancy thing. Yeah, she's been avoiding me the last four months. I guess she was planning on avoiding me for the next 18 years or so, until someone else broke the news. Anyway, Sis had her latest ultrasound yesterday, and discovered she's having a boy. Of course, this is exactly what they wanted. Because, you know, it's not enough to just be fertile, my sister has to be fertile AND get the gender she's aiming for. I'm not even allowed to have a preference... when you're struggling with infertility, you're supposed to put aside normal human thoughts* and be grateful for whatever you can get. I get irritated when people ask us if we're trying for a girl, but the plain fact of the matter is that given a choice, both B & I would, indeed, like a girl.

I feel terrible admitting that. Before G was born, I wouldn't admit to having a preference (I wanted a girl then, too) because I was afraid that was like admitting that I'd love a daughter more than a son. I feel worse admitting that when I found out G had a penis, I cried... but not for me, for him. I worried that I wouldn't be a good mom to a boy. I didn't particularly care for hot wheels, or playing sports, or any of those things I imagined would be in my future. I didn't realize at the time just how much G would change that. I still don't particularly care for the little cars, but I adore the way my child's mind works when he's playing with them. I still don't love playing baseball, but I love the look of sheer delight and pride on G's face when he hits a ball past me (which, frankly, is often; I'm not all that athletic).

Now that I know how wonderful it can be to have a son, I feel safe admitting that I do still want a daughter. I know that my feelings now will in no way reflect on my feelings later if our next child is born sporting external plumbing. I will love another little boy just as much as I would a little girl. This morning really solidified that. Watching this little boy I am babysitting, seeing him play with T & Grape, I realized that if some day we are parents to three little boys - and only three little boys... that's just fine with me. If my future doesn't involve dresses or hair bows, or mother-daughter bonding, I will survive. Happily. To use an old cliche, I will be happy with either... but I don't think that infertility should negate feelings, and I think it should be ok to secretly want one or the other. Even for an Infertile.



* and yes, it is normal to occasionally want one gender over another. Most of my fertile friends have opinions on this. I've never known anyone who would be genuinely unhappy if they birthed the wrong gender, but I have known many people who had at least a slight preference.