Lesson 19: What You're Not Allowed to Wish For

Last Tuesday was 20 week scan day. Lying on the bed, smothered in tummy jelly, I once again felt the butterflies and slightly anxious knotty feeling that something might be wrong. Baby might not be healthy. They do, after all, call this the 'anomaly scan' and I'm sure all parents have a pang of desperate hope that everything remains anomaly-free. 

We have one healthy child already. Our beautiful whirlwind of madness, Hurricane Henry. All anybody would wish for would be an equally healthy sibling. Right? 

Well I did wish for that. But I also wished for something else. Something seemingly far less important but all-consuming in the run up to that scan. 

I wished for a girl.

I wanted a girl.

And when the moment of truth presented itself, it was clear to see that this wasn't to be. There wasn't any searching between baby's legs at this scan. Half the bloody screen was willy and balls at one point. 

So we have been blessed with a second son, and all is well. We are so very lucky. 

And yet I cried. 

Not at first. At first, I delighted in the healthy baby news and laughed at the obvious gender identification. Another little monkey like my Henry. 

But outside the hospital, I burst into tears and more tears came later that afternoon and later still in bed. 

I wanted a girl.

How pathetically selfish of me to be disappointed. I am so very angry at myself for reacting in that way. But that is how I felt. 

I sneer at people on TV who keep trying for more children until they get the sex they have been longing for. I will not be one of those people. As sure as anybody can ever be, I will never have another baby. 

I will never have a girl. 

And that, I believe, is where the upset came from. Growing up as one of two girls I only ever imagined having daughters. I have spent 27 years dreaming of pony club outings and ballet. Of spa trips and chats about boyfriends. Perhaps losing my wonderful Mum as a teenager heightened this longing to have a daughter of my own. Perhaps I just thought it would be special.

So you see, when I felt disappointment at the news Baby Two is to be a boy, this was not at all because I don't want another boy. If you have met my glorious Henry you would understand how very fond of the Mother-Son bond I have become.

I just felt a temporary (but at the time overwhelming) sense of sadness that I will never have a daughter.

And no, I don't think that is an unfair thing to say. 

To say I WOULD HAVE LIKED A GIRL is not to say I don't want my boy. 

My Dad would have liked a son, and as his second (and last) daughter that nugget of information has never lessened my sense of self worth. He loves me unconditionally, as I will love Bump 2. 

Lesson 19: You can't help how you feel. Perhaps we should allow ourselves to 'have a moment' rather than bottling up the unsaid. And then move on, counting our wonderful blessings.

The Unmumsy Mum

Lesson 18: I'm a Grower Not a Glower

A long time ago, in a land far far away, I bought into the Pregnancy Dream. Shiny hair, glowing skin and a neat and tidy bump displayed gloriously under attractive maternity dresses. 

Well what a load of shit.

This might be the reality for some women - though if any pregnant 'Glowers' are reading this we can never be friends, just FYI. 

The fat suit

The reality of life Up The Duff, is, in my experience, less 'bloomy' and more gloomy. 

Shiny hair? Nope.

Glowing skin? Are you shitting me? I am grey and slightly zitty, like a hungover pubescent teenager. 

Almost half way through the Preggers Journey for the second time, I have roughly 60 weeks' pregnancy 'experience' under my belt and I HAVE NEVER FUCKING GLOWED. 

Lovely growing bump? Well yes granted it is growing. In close correlation with every other part of my chubby body. My 'bump' is more a tyre of pregnant podge around my middle, spreading slowly to unsuspecting areas like my arms. And chins. 

I don't even know where to start with maternity clothes. You can buy some lovely stuff these days. Truly you can. But I reserve attractive items for special occasions (there may be one such occasion per pregnancy if you are lucky). And for every other day, there are LEGGINGS. 

So what are the perks? I can think of only one...well two actually. My boobs are MASSIVE. Not usually blessed in the boobage department this is an interesting experience. The problem is, I know this is short lived. And that post-birth and breastfeeding these bad boys will deflate to saggy sacks. Sigh.

Lesson 18: Pregnancy is a blessing. But you may not be 'blessed' with a pregnant glow. Prepare for dull skin, erratic weight spread and an overall unattractive demeanour. Just to compliment the puking and tiredness. Obvs.

The Unmumsy Mum