When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I didn't want to know the gender. I was adamant. So was my husband. We wanted to be surprised. For us, it was simple: I didn't want to pigeonhole my kid into a gender specific way of being from birth. Baby R would be a baby. Period. Knowing the sex isn't what concerned us most. Because my pregnancy was so difficult, all I cared about was if the kid was going to be healthy. But we had no idea how folks were so obsessed with finding out. They didn't understand why we didn't care. They wanted to know what names we picked out even though we told them we had names for both boys and girls (aka unisex names). Why wasn't the room going to be pink or blue? Why did I not want pink at all?(for the record, I hate pink!) They didn't wanna buy us gifts (even though we had a comprehensive registry that was gender neutral and full of good basic items) unless they knew the gender. It was frustrating. Look, a baby is a baby. Onsies ...
Posts
My friend from grad school asked a simple question: "Seriously... How the hell did our mamas do it all?" I sat and pondered the question. I thought about it. As I typed, I thought of my own mother. I wrote back: Sis.. I don't know. My mama has been gone from this earth 7 months. Even in her last days she sat in her wheelchair and cooked, baked cakes and such. When I was younger, she worked 3 jobs despite having lupus. The short answer: black women are superhuman and extraordinary. And here I am.. Working, a newlywed, trying to get a Phd and feel like I'm going to fall apart. I don't feel like I'm made from the same stuff My mama was. But somehow we get through it... We have to. We are deep down made from the same stuff. Just have to channel it... Conjure it. Even after I wrote that response, I had to sit with it for a while. Conjure it? Can I conjure it? Do I even believe what I wrote? Months after my response... I am still waiti...