I remember the first time I saw my baby’s little penis in the ultrasound. I was delighted, not only because in his tininess he was overall perfect, but because I knew there was no coincidence that I was pregnant with a baby boy. A crazy surprise, yes, but not a coincidence.
I asked her if she was sure. A boy? Really? What am I supposed to do with a boy? I didn’t even know boys don’t wipe after they pee until only a few years ago during a babysitting gig. I remember tearing off a piece of tp and handing it over to a confused 4 year old who just stared at me. Mind was totally blown.
I know so little about boys, and essentially the most intimate experiences I’ve had with the opposite sex has been through dating (with the occasional friendship here and there.) I think back to all the guys I’ve known in my life in different capacities, and almost immediately feel bummed out when I realize how few of them I have in my life now and how there are even fewer that I would actually like to see again. (Though, I must say, great men travel in tribes. In the last few months, I’ve met a good number of them through my partner.)
But that’s when it hit me. Here is my opportunity to raise the kind of guy that I would feel blessed to know and have in my life.
And then little by little, I began to notice something kinda cool. Just about every pregnant woman I know is also expecting a boy. And these are women that have tapped into their power, strength, confidence, and creativity. How incredible. I feel at the forefront of bringing in this new generation of men raised by goddesses. Men who will honor and revel in the divine feminine. Men who will have other amazing men as role models.
See? No coincidence.
I’ve been doing bits of preparation here and there for the birth of this baby. Few things are certain: there is just no way that I want to birth in a hospital. There’s no way I’m gonna march to the beat of a hospital’s drum and be exposed to its rushed stressful energy, while pain killers and potential cesareans are paraded before me like beauty pageant contestants waving behind an empty smile, begging to be chosen.
And this is where I stop to acknowledge a few things. The possibility that in a worst case scenario, I will need to open up to that option, and thus use this establishment the way I feel it should be used: only in case of emergency; the fact that there have been so many women before me who have not wanted to birth in a hospital either but ended up there anyway; and taking into account all the women who feel more comfortable and prefer the hospital as their place of birth. Ultimately, that’s what it’s about: honoring your level of comfort and educating yourself about your options. And knowing there are options.
I’ve been watching birthing videos. Far too many show how rough of an experience it can be for a newborn to emerge within a hospital setting. And for boys especially, their fate as they unwillingly go through circumcision. I’ll never forget the baby boy in one of these videos, legs and arms strapped down, pain and fear in his little face. I look at these experiences and it makes perfect sense to me why so many of us are completely disconnected in this world: it’s because for many of us, the first experience was quite traumatic.
And for boys who were circumcised not long after they were born? The first experience they have in their tender little sacred sexual parts is a very violent one. Are we not seeing the catastrophic results of violent, insensitive and often aggressive male births?
So no, no coincidence that I’m having a boy. I feel honored to help in the revolution of childbirth by bringing in a boy who is not only birthed in a sacred, loving, gentle way, but whose body remains intact as it was designed to be. Above all, I am head-over-heels in gratitude knowing he has an amazing father as a role model. This alone breaks the cycle of my ancestral past, which is laden with one absent father after another.
Yes, having a girl would have “made sense”. But still, with this boy, I will make sure that he knows how to hold space for women who are versed in the womanly arts. I will teach him how to take exquisite care of himself. He will learn how to respect, appreciate and love women. And he will learn how to embody the sacred aspects of the masculine within himself.
As my sisters and fellow green witches would say, “So shall it be, or better. Blessed be.”