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Amelia
I hope you have a daughter just like you one day.
My mother said those words to me throughout my life and under many different circumstances.
When I was eight, I helped her bake various treats for a bake sale to raise money for the homeless shelter. I asked question after question about why people were homeless and how we could help. She smiled proudly and said, “I hope you have a daughter just like you one day.”
The same words were yelled through my bedroom door at age thirteen when I’d butted heads with her and stomped up to my room, slamming the door and turning on loud punk rock music. In exasperation she’d screamed those words at my door, hoping I’d one day have a daughter who drove me as crazy as I drove her.
When I held her hand as the last person left our house after my father’s funeral, she leaned against me and whispered out of thankfulness, “I hope you have a daughter just like you one day.”
As I sit in the car staring at these ultrasound photos, the words haunt me, not because I worry about having a daughter like me. Because I’m terrified my daughter will have a mother like mine. That one day she’ll suffer the same agony I have as I slip away from her into the recesses of my own mind, lost and confused. I wouldn’t wish either fate on anyone.
“Ready?” Miles asks, and I suddenly realize we’re parked out front of his parents’ house.
“Yes. Yeah. Can’t wait to tell them,” I say, forcing a smile.
The likelihood that Miles knows something is wrong is high, but he won’t push me about it until we get home. He knows I like to feel safe when I talk things through.
Instead, he wraps his hand around mine, infusing me with strength and calm. Though my heart aches over not being able to truly share this news with my own mother, I’m excited to see Katie’s reaction. She’s had fun telling me about all the old wives’ tales used to predict gender. She said every time they predicted Miles would be a girl. They got that very wrong. Miles is pure alpha man, even if he doesn’t exude that to everyone. I have no doubt he’d kill for the people he loves, then shrug it off because the person got what they deserved.
Katie and I did a few of the different predictions together, and it was split fifty-fifty between boy and girl. I didn’t think I cared one way or another. I still don’t, but something about having a girl is triggering for me in a way I don’t think it would if it was a boy.
Katie swings the door open as we walk onto the porch. Miles’s father works four ten-hour days each week, so he’s off on Fridays. Since Katie makes her own schedule, she works half days on Fridays so she can spend more time with Andy.
“They’re here,” she calls to Andy. Then to us, she waves a hand. “Get inside.”
We walk in, slip our shoes off, then end up seated in the living room as we wait for Addie and Jameson to come downstairs.
Katie looks at the clock then walks over to the stairs and yells something in Korean.
Miles leans in close and whispers, “Loosely translated, that means ‘get down here or I’ll cut you.’”
Mental note, don’t piss Katie off.
Addie and Jameson come down the stairs side by side, looking unenthused.
“Girls, at least pretend to be excited. You’re the baby’s aunts,” Andy says as they walk into the room and plop down on the couch.
“Should we even be labeling the gender of the baby these days?” Jameson asks. “Should we really be classifying them as one thing or another before they’re even old enough to know who they are?”
Katie leans forward off the couch, taking Jameson’s hands in hers. “Sweetie, while your caring for the mental and emotional health of your niece or nephew is wonderful, and I appreciate the point that we shouldn’t put children in a box based on their gender, nor should we hold them to that as they grow… shut up.” I hold back a laugh as Katie spins back to face us. “Well?”
Miles looks at me. “Want to do the honors?”
I pull the envelope of pictures from my bag and set them on the coffee table. “It’s a girl.”
Katie claps her hands together. “I knew it.” She holds her hand out to Andy. “Pay up.”
My mouth falls open and Miles rubs a hand across his forehead. “Seriously, Ma? You bet on the gender of the baby?”
Katie takes a twenty from Andy and smiles big. “Yes, I did. It’s just silly. And fun. And I won.”
“This is why we weren’t excited to come down,” Addie says. “But I am excited to buy all the pink, glittery things.” She sticks her tongue out at Jameson, who gives her a shove.
“I’m buying all black,” Jameson says, standing up. Then she looks at us sincerely for half a second. “Congratulations.” She gives us each a hug and heads for the stairs as Addie hops up and follows her.
“You know, pink and black go pretty well together…”
