It's a Boy!

When we were trying to conceive a baby, then when we were trying to adopt, I secretly wished for a girl. Actually, I'm terrible at keeping secrets from hubby, so I did tell him.

My husband was horrified. "Don't say that! What if we have a boy?" He feared that I wouldn't love the baby as much if it were a boy, which is of course not true. I knew I would love either gender, but if I had to choose, I would want at least one girl to add to the family.

When my daughter was born I was ecstatic. I would have been thrilled with a boy too, but I had the little girl I had hoped and prayed for so many years. When we were ready for adoption #2, I secretly hoped for another girl. I didn't say anything to hubby this time.

I think I wanted a girl again because I knew what to expect. My daughter is a typical girly-girl (I could go into an analysis here on nature vs. nurture creating gender-specific qualities, and I would like to, but I think I'll save that for another post), and I enjoy every part of that. My husband and I are far from being sports inclined and we are definitely not aggressive by nature. I think I was a little nervous about the possibility of a little tasmanian devil-type character. I was happy when we learned that my son's birthmother would be delivering a boy, but I was a little unsure as to how I would fare as the mother of a son.

As Karma would have it, my boy turned out all the rough-and-tumble you could ever expect. He's more boy than I think I've ever even seen at that age. Though our TV has never shown a sporting event (except to channel surf right on by it), at 2 1/2 years of age my son knows how to hold a bat and hit a ball. He's obsessed with wrestling, dinosaurs, and trucks. He is fascinated by anything S-C-A-R-Y. He has brought a whole new world into our home. And it is wonderful.

The most beautiful part of having a son, for me, is the intensity in which he gives his love. As severe as his temper tantrums can be (though thankfully those have declined drastically), the other side of the coin is the depth of emotion contained his kisses and hugs.

I have been blessed to have an abundance of loving people in my life, but nothing holds a candle to the way my son looks at me, the way he hold me face in his hands and presses his lips to me, the way it seems the world would shatter if I looked at him the wrong way or if I leave the house without him.

My son can be a very greedy little boy. Touch the food on his plate, and you'll likely lose a finger. Mess with his blankie, and you'll get what's coming to you. But somehow it's different with Mommy. If I'm laying down, he often runs over with his blanket, tucking me in and making sure I'm comfortable. If I'm sitting down while he's eating, he'll offer me the food on his plate and insist that I try a bite. His Daddy just looks and shakes his head because he does not get near the same treatment.

Yes, my son is little bit of a mamma's boy. He's also a bit of a tasmanian devil. But I wouldn' t have it any other way.