Yesterday evening at the grocery store I finally caught a clue about something that's been bugging me.
With this pregnancy, as with the previous three, complete strangers have been coming up to me and asking "what I'm having–" you know, what's the baby's gender. One thing that's different this time is that I know the answer; I had an ultrasound a few weeks ago, my first one.
But another difference has been the frequency — I hardly ever appear in public without someone coming up to me and saying, "I just have to ask you — do you know what you're having?" And I'll say yes, a boy, and they'll shake their head and smile. Why so much? Have people gotten more forward in the past three years? I don't get it.
And then yesterday a woman who asked me the question supplied the missing piece: after I said "A boy," she said sympathetically, "Wow, four boys!"
And I realized that all these people have been looking at Mary Jane and assuming she was a boy too. Therefore it is necessary that I be interrogated to determine if I will be saddled with the fourth boy. This explains the questioning, and also the sympathy.
*I* don't think she looks like a boy. She was wearing a red and white striped dress yesterday, for pete's sake. But… I guess I can see where someone might think "boy" looking at her.
From left to right: XY, XY, XX.
bearing blog 