I am lucky. I have a beautiful son who I love to bits. But it was nothing like I imagined. Not just the fact that motherhood is nothing like I had thought it would be but the fact that having a son was never in my life plan. Not when I was a little girl playing mum and not when I was pregnant.
I grew up with two sisters and playing mummy was one of my favourite games. I always played with girl dolls, I dressed my dolls in pink babygros, I swaddled them in pink blankets. I named them the most feminine names I could think of and I never ever confused them for boys.
So when I was pregnant I just assumed I was having a girl and I was thrilled. I imagined my relationship with my daughter in quite some detail so when I went for my 18 week scan it was almost as an aside that I asked them to confirm that the little baby growing inside me was indeed a girl.
I was shocked that my baby had a penis. Shocked and petrified.
I called my sister – she has always been the best person to help me deal with myself and she calmly and rationally told me “a baby is a baby, it makes no difference if it’s a girl or a boy, your baby will love you and you will love him”.
I don’t regret finding out his sex (and I certainly don’t regret him being a boy) because when he was born 10 weeks early, I certainly didn’t need any more surprises. I was also ecstatic that I had found out early in the piece because I was totally at peace with the fact that he was a boy by the time he was born.