WARNING: this gets a little feminist
and uses words like “placenta.”
Dear Bebe Mat,
Yesterday I had an ultrasound. It was a followup visit,
because the last time we went you were positioned in a way that shielded your
tiny heart from the doctor’s probing eyes. We also weren’t 100% sure about your
gender, but that was far less important to us. We just figured that since we
were going to find out at all, it would be better to be very sure than “almost
sure.”
This doctor was new to me, and his bedside manner was pretty
comical. He had an adjective for everything. Your heart is beautiful, my placenta is gorgeous,
your femur is stunning… you get it. In
the special recline-y chair with one’s already protrusive stomach all elevated,
exposed, and covered in gel; vision is somewhat limited. I had to crane my neck
to even see the screen, which is the whole point of being there, I thought.
Other than that beautiful sight, the only things my mind registered seeing were
Dr. O’s wand-wielding hand as he worked with joystick precision across my
abdomen, and his hanging ID badge that said in bold letters: “Chief
of Staff.” As he prattled on about
the fantastic view of my cervix; he also shared that his hobbies included going
on cruises with his wife where they are the youngest couple there, and some
strange type of European dirt biking (I can’t remember what he called it, but
he said he rarely drove over walking speed. It all sounded very technical but I
wasn’t very interested.).
“If I were to guess right now, I’d say it’s the expensive
one.” My confusion at this seemingly off-the-wall statement must have shown on
my face because he elaborated. “She’s going to be all like, ‘Daddy, buy me the
new Roxy, the Hurley shorts, the newest Coach handbag.”’ In my shock I politely tittered “heh heh;” but
I couldn’t believe that this is what having a girl meant to Mr.
Doctor-chief-of-staff. The expensive one.
Despite his grossly obtuse comment he won me over again
talking about how active and healthy you appeared. You even gave us a little
wave that set my heart totally on fire. Looking at a profile view of you he
said, “Objectively, this is a beautiful kid, is it not?” I agree. Seeing you
move around on the monitor is the COOLEST thing I have set my eyes on. Then he
goes, “Yep. She’s going to have boys ALL OVER her. Her dad’s going to be
stressed out for sure when she wants to date all the boys.” I look again at the
monitor to make sure you weren’t passing out your phone number to all the
unborn boy fetuses or something, because I can’t figure out how he’s made the
leap from “objectively beautiful” to wanting to “date all the boys.” All I
could think of was that if your dad had been in the room, his quick tongue
would have been able to defend your honor better than any words my flustered brain
could come up with. He resumed measuring your bones.
Being the clinically curious
person I am, I wasn’t content to just sit there and watch him mark your bone
lengths – I want to know what it means that your radius is 32 mm. He liked that I knew the bone names, and
indulged my curiosity. Basically he was telling me that you’re practically
perfect in every way, not that I could be convinced otherwise. Making
conversation, I told him jokingly that some of my friends were wondering if he
could measure your nose as well. (For those of you unaware, Scott’s nose is,
erm, substantial.) He thought this
was pretty funny, and found the profile of you again. “Weeeellll… she can
always wear sunglasses.” He looked back and forth between the monitor and my
face. “It does look pretty long, doesn’t it? I can tell you for sure, it’s DEFINITELY not your nose,” he said.
Alright, my sweet Bebe. I want to
be clear about some things. Firstly, I
love your Daddy’s nose. Not only
does it just give his face awesome character, I think it is genuinely
attractive. Some will undoubtedly argue that his “manly” nose doesn’t belong on
a little girl, but we know that you’ll be strong enough to deal with whatever
nose comes your way. You should know that you’re going to have aspects about
your body that some people will find unappealing. And if these are the things
that you focus on, they will take you over, and render you ineffective.
Finally, and this comes as a warning of future embarrassment; I now
know that this doctor’s comments are going to be the first of many limiting
things said or thought of you because of your gender, and I honestly don’t know how I am going to handle them
graciously. To have my tiny girl’s
worth narrowed down to her beauty and belongings in an ULTRASOUND is sick
irony. Your dad and I have imagined and planned a home for you where preconceived
notions about what it means to be a girl have been cast aside, and you are
allowed to thrive into the individual person that God will have you to be.
However, a lot of people are going to be a part of your life. Some of these
people will, in their ignorance, try to confine you. I can’t promise you that I
will never speak out against that – in fact, I promise that I will. My prayer
is that when you’re old enough to speak for yourself; you will do so. May you be bold in your defense of your self
and your beliefs, and may you learn to do so with more tact than I ever had. I
can’t wait to bring you into this world, Small One. It’s a flawed one with many
causes to take up, and I have NO DOUBT that you improve it greatly.
I’ll cover you
in kisses soon,
Mom
Mom
6/19/13
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