When I was pregnant with my son, people would tell me (though it seemed more a wide eyed warning) “Boys are different than girls! You just wait - you’ll see.” Then they would give me an ominous shake of the head and walk away.
Whatever! I would tell myself. I had a daughter already, how different could they be - really?
The difference, it turns out, should have been obvious from the first trimester. With my daughter’s pregnancy I never actually threw up but I remained in a constant state of nausea for 5 long months. With my son... nothing!
While carrying my daughter, as the months wore on, I was swollen all over. My toes looked like vienna sausages, my feet were chicken kiev, and my shoe size ballooned from a 10 to a 12! During my son’s internment my hands swelled just enough for my rings not to fit. Everything else stayed relatively the same.
Their births were drastically different - though that has little to do with them, and more to do with my health care providers. My daughter’s birth was a medically managed nightmare (an entry for another day), and my son was born completely drug free in a birth center.
However upon their entrance to the big wide world, their physical differences, apart from the obvious, were immediate. My little girl was soft and pink and beautiful. My son had the face of an angel and... deltoids.
DELTOIDS? REALLY? Suzy, be reasonable - newborn babies do not have distinct, well muscled deltoids.
Well, I’m here to tell you yes they do! And, might I add he was freakishly strong too! Life has never been the same.
The Boy is fearless. He is very much an “act first - think later” kid, while his sister tends to over think before taking action. Both my children are generous, happy people. They laugh and tumble and fight and play. But there is a definite distinction between the two and I can’t help but believe it is based on their respective genders.
My theory will shortly be tested, for as I write this, I am 9+ months pregnant with another girl.
I knew it was a girl because before I even took the test I was constantly nauseous. Thankfully the degree and length of the morning sickness was nowhere near that of my older daughter; but this has not been as happy-go-lucky, footloose and fancy free a pregnancy for me when I carried my son.
These last few weeks have really thrown me for a loop - causing me to wonder if I’ll actually ever be normal again. This 3rd baby is so active, bordering on violent, that’s earned her the nickname of Xena (the warrior princess).
Will Xena shatter my anecdotal belief that boys are different than girls? Of will she turn out to defy all odds and combine the brut force of my son with the analytical sensitivity of my daughter?
How has your experience from being around boys and girls shaped your beliefs of their similarities and differences, if any?
My firstborn Boy and second-born Girl could not be any more different. They can't. I used to think it was all cultural-conditioning hooey, the whole Boy-Girl difference thing. Then I had a boy after my sister's two daughters. Then I had my own daughter. They still amaze me. The differences astound me. Even to the point of my son's passion for white chocolate and my second's aversion to any chocolate but dark.
ReplyDeleteYou were struck by your boy's deltoids, I was amazed by boy's quads. Seriously. Quads. He was a lean, mean muscle machine from day one. His sisters--both--were rolly poly softness. Hannah had the daintiest, prettiest fingers. It look like she had just been for a manicure right before she came out. I was amazed at the differences in male and female physiques from birth.
While pregnant, I could tell Isaac could not stand the confines of the womb, he had things to do, places to run. Hannah was warm and cozy with no desire to go anywhere, at least that's what I projected. And just last week she told me how she loved being inside of me and wishes she could go back in.
We had our boy first, so we hit the ground running. Then Hannah came and we used to worry there was something wrong with her because she would just sit there and play with things. I have been so grateful to have had our kids in that order. First the crazy running everywhere boy, then the calm, quiet, slow girl.
Now, my third, as predicted, split the difference between the first two. There was nowhere else to go, really. She's a girly girl who will only wear dresses and loves her babies, but she will beat the stuffing out of you with little to no provocation. She's a pile of paradoxes and a total joy!
So, I wrote a novel. But you asked. :) Lisa
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