Had it been anyone else but you I’m not sure what I would have done. I remember it very clearly. See, I really wanted a girl, a daughter that I could raise to be a strong independent woman. What did I know of boys. I came from a family of women. My dad died off when I was 8 and we tried our best to shed the men in the family. But the uncles came around and sometimes stayed too long. Still for the most part it was me, my mom and my sisters. So what did I know of boys? I knew that I didn’t like a lot of men. Most of them really, I didn’t understand the obsession with sports, fart humor, boobs and meat. And the aversion for introspection, nurturing, genuine kindness and gratitude. Sure the drive to breed made them more interesting as I grew older, but for the most part I’d rather be with my girl friends. So when I decided to get pregnant, I was pretty convinced I was going to have a girl. We would ride horses together, she’d travel across Europe in a baby back pack, I’d teach her how to make her way in life in a board room and on a mountain, and how to make a croque monsier but without the ham. She’d be independent, smart, funny, she’d run for office.
But once I found out I was having a boy, well I had to make a promise to myself that I wouldn’t leave you in the shopping cart at the grocery store and just walk away. I tried to find ways to cope. I secretly hoped that you’d be gay. You know how I get along with gay men, always have. Even little Bucky Parr in kindergarten who always had to be the wicked witch of the west when we played wizard of oz, but that’s another story. Anyway at some point, I realized I had an opportunity to raise a sensitive thoughtful young man. He didn’t have to turn out to be a frat boy. I reconciled with the situation, bought books, surrounded our home with stuffed animals and games and did my best to keep the guns and swords at bay.
But once you were here, it all changed. You became the center of my universe. Your wants and needs were more important than my own. I became a mother of a boy and with it all the trappings. I learned to appreciate sports. Spent more time at the ball park and little league fields that I’d ever had guessed. Even went to spring training, a few times. One of my most favorite moments in my life was when you and I were sitting in the bleachers in a light rain at spring training. I was blissful, just being there with you taking it all in. You were probably 8 or 9. You put your arm on my shoulder and said “just think mom, if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be here.” And you were so right. Yes I changed and all for the better. And yes I live with a frat boy who falls asleep to ESPN, loves a good fart joke, keeps a sports illustrated swimsuit edition next to his bed and even while living in a vegetarian household doesn’t count chicken satay or unagi as meat. And yes, I cannot imagine loving anyone else more than you.