Huh.

(The Joey at 18 weeks)

I guess I'm not as savvy or clairvoyant or clued-in to the inner workings of my uterus as I thought.

The Joey is a girl. When we saw the (exceedingly clear) image on the ultrasound, Jason burst into tears of happiness. I said, "huh. How about that."

(There's a lady in my office who's pregnant, but who doesn't know what she's having because during the ultrasound, every time they got close to getting a good shot of what was between the baby's legs, the baby moved or pulled up its legs so that there was no way to tell the sex. Not so much with The Joey. She was like the drunk secretary at the Christmas party sitting panty-less on the copy machine.)

I was convinced we were having another boy, for a number of reasons. The fact that going back about three or four generations, the men in Jason's family have managed to sire exactly one girl (Jason's half-sister). The fact that, according to all of my ultrasounds, the baby was measuring bigger than its actual gestational age, which suggested to me early (in the cycle) conception, which suggested a boy, because boy sperm are faster swimmers than girl sperm.

And I was kind of hoping for another boy. Zeke could grow up with a brother, and they could play and rough-house and go through boy stuff together. I've got mountains and mountains of boy clothes and baby accoutrement. I'm familiar with the boy parts, diaper-changing-wise.

Plus, I'm afraid of girls. Or at least, afraid of raising one.

I worry about our hyper-sexualized society, and the pressure on women (and girls) to be skinny and hot and sexually available. I worry about being able to raise a girl with enough confidence and self-esteem to know that she doesn't have to give in to that pressure.

And to be honest, girls kind of scare me.

They're so much more emotionally manipulative and volatile than most boys. I know it's a long way off, but I dread the early teen years. I know what a bitch I was.*

(A 4-D shot in which you can see her face. She's already grinning manaically as she thinks of all the ways she's going to torment her mother when she's older.)

But as I've had a few days to think about it, I've grown accustomed to the idea of having a daughter, and the feelings of happiness and excitement are creeping in and edging out the feelings of doubt and uncertainty. I have such a wonderful relationship with my mother, and have for most of my life, and I'm hopeful that Joey and I can have that as well.

And as my mom pointed out, having a boy and a girl means that they won't be in competition quite the same way that same sex siblings are. Boys tend to constantly compare each others' accomplishments in sports and the like. Girls fight over clothes and who's prettier.

Or maybe I'm just engaging in massive stereotyping on the whole thing.

The truth is, she'll be who'll she'll be. All I can do is hope that she's sweet and smart and funny and happy -- all the same hopes I had for Zeke before he was born. And that turned out pretty well.

So I guess I should stop worrying.

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*My torment of my dear mother was relatively short-lived -- I grew out of my monster phase by the time I was about 16 or so. But still. It wasn't pleasant for her while it lasted, the moodiness and crying and general teenage-girl-ness that was my 13- and 14-year-old self.