A Letter to My Unborn Girl

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

                                             6/19/13

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