Confessions of a Boy Mom

Charina Urban
Apr 18, 2017
5 min read

The decorations were arranged, the food was spread, and the pinata containing our fate hung above our heads. Will and I reached up to grab a string and pulled on the count of three.

Up until this moment, we were stumped and just couldn't settle on whether we thought we were having a boy or a girl. Even every wives tale was split down the middle! We knew what we wanted...Will wanted a boy to carry on his family name. I wanted a girl to dress in tutus and leopard print. No matter how many times someone asks and you respond with a grin and the proper answer of, "we don't care as long as the baby is healthy" there is ALWAYS a small part of you that prefers one gender over the other.

So as I reached up and tugged on that string while holding my breath, I silently hoped for pink confetti and a little girl.

Fate answered and instead, blue confetti rained down on us. Will literally started jumping for joy and screaming with excitement. His friends trampled him like he had just scored the winning basket and I stood to the side trying to hold it together. I laughed and smiled, but deep down I was disappointed and scared.

I never pictured myself as a boy mom. I have three younger sisters and a fairly respectable resume in the art and knowledge of girly-ness. I know all about bows, dresses, Barbies, leopard print, periods and prom. I have mastered painting my toenails in under five minutes and applying mascara in the car. I have a solid method for getting over heartbreak and boyfriend troubles that includes hair dye and ice cream.

But I know nothing of dinosaurs, monster trucks, or most sports. I strongly dislike dirt and fart jokes make no sense to me.

This may sound terrible and I fully expect the judgmental eye-rolls to start right about here, but the honest truth is I just didn't know how to react when I found out it was a boy. Not because I didn't love him based on his gender. But because I seriously had no idea how to interact with or raise a boy. I had so many questions and each one without an answer just made me more and more anxious.

How do you change a boys diaper? What do boys like to play with? How do boys just know all the names of the dinosaurs and Thunder basketball players? Why do boys think burps and farts are funny? Will my son and I have anything in common? What do I talk to him about? Will I constantly have to tell him to put the toilet seat down? How do I talk to him about sex?

I had some serious heart to hearts with other women who I knew had been in the same spot as me. And in doing so I learned that the mix of fear, anxiety, and love I was feeling was completely okay. In fact, it was pretty normal. Several women admitted to me that they had actually cried and went into a state of mourning for a while when they found out they were having a son. Not because they were so against having a boy, but because the tiny person they had fully believed was going to be, was lost. For them, it was almost like experiencing a death. And that made complete sense to me.

When I was little I carried around baby dolls that were always girls. I had a name picked out since I was twelve. Whenever I walked past the baby section at Target the tiny girl clothes just seemed to call my name. It just never seemed possible to me that I'd have anything but a girl. So yes, when the blue confetti fell I was disappointed. I was scared. And I felt like I had lost someone I'd been dreaming about meeting my whole life.

Amidst all the disappointment and pain however, I found comfort and reassurance. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "there is such a special bond between moms and their boys" and "I wouldn't trade the relationship I have with my son for anything". To some this may just seem like typical 'oh honey' encouragement, but for me it meant the world. It put my heart at ease and made me start looking forward to the relationship I was going to create with my son.

A few weeks later I felt him kick for the first time and begin to tug on my heart strings.

We painted the walls and officially decided on a Lion King theme for his bedroom. I started buying tiny boy clothes and socks and dreaming about what he would look like. It finally started setting in that I was going to be a mom. And not just to any baby. But to the most perfect tiny boy human I never knew I needed. I was still scared, but the love I had for the person inside me grew just as much as he did every day.

And from the moment that little boy was born, he has had me wrapped around his tiny precious finger. I have never had so much love for such a tiny person in my heart and at times it feels like I'm about to burst. I now look forward to the days of dirty hands, muddy footprints, monster trucks, dinosaurs, and soccer balls (should he choose to like any of these things). There's still much I am apprehensive about and I know I'll never have it completely figured out. But I'm going to try.

I'm going to be his biggest fan, number one cheerleader, and learn all the different dinosaur names. I'm going to watch sports and run through the mud with him (even though I HATE dirt). I'll listen to his silly jokes and try to remember the starting line-up on game day. I'm going to love and respect his daddy, treat others with kindness, and stick up for those without a voice. And I will never allow his gender to be an excuse for his actions.

Because he deserves a momma who is going to do her job.

He deserves to be given the opportunity to learn how to love and accept everyone he comes in contact with. He deserves to play and act like a kid without the pressure of stereotypes. He deserves to know what "no" means, that boundaries are to be respected, and that in life you have to work hard for what you want.

Parenthood is not easy. Motherhood is not easy. But I truly believe that God made me a Boy Mom to take me out of my comfort zone, to challenge me, give me something to fight for, and to bring me more joy than I ever knew possible.