xx | xy

4.5 months

Distracting myself with details. Taking meticulous notes about what I eat. When I exercise. The word file with notation after graphic notation of the physiological nonsense caused by pregnancy. Why would evolution and biology have made this such a horrific experience for human women? All so we could walk upright and overthink with our giant brains.

They all tell me I have it worse than most with the unending sickness. "are you eating enough protein?"(yes) "are you sleeping enough?" (yes) "are you exercising?" (fucking yes, I am doing everything right and then some.) This is just the way it is for me, but I won't use the word "unfair."

Its a boy. I thought for sure it was a girl. Maybe just because everyone else thought so. The old wives tales. The odds. J said it would be a girl just because the universe would do that to me. Plague me with 15 years of the dreaded pink items and the large groups of squealing, giggling girls in my house. But besides all of that, I still thought I was up for the challenge. So the news boy silenced me for a solid 20 minutes. (after, well, imagine the miranda character from SATC faking excitement for the ultrasound tech)

Then it rushed toward me all at once. Massive relief. I would have been unjustly tough on a girl. I am tough on all girls. I expect every one of them to single handedly take on the task of disproving and undoing thousands of years of stereotypes. But a daughter would have had to shoulder all of that burden. That weight, the weight of me. My unreasonable expectations, the same ones I set for myself. The ones that trap me.

I think I have been saying goodbye to her, this fictional girl who has been let off the hook. I am relieved for her. Not to have to be spit out into the world a victim, always under male supervision, always in danger. Never alone after dark. The best time to be alone. Fragile confidences. Fighting the ideals of beauty. Self hatred. Its too hard to be a girl.

As W said, "another little boyfriend for you."
> boyz (M.I.A.)