Chrissy Teigen tells the world she’s expecting a baby girl in beautiful Instagram snap.
Pregnancy sucks. Well, at least I thought so. When I see glowing moms-to-be like Chrissy Teigen, who recently announced she and husband John Legend are expecting a girl, I feel a touch of envy and disbelief. How are they not testing the limits of their maternity pants waistband surrounded by candy bar wrappers while binge-watching “House Hunters”?
That’s why during my pregnancies, whether to find out the sex of my babies was never a question. If I had to suffer through 40 weeks of total bullshit, at least I could have a little surprise halfway through to make the whole thing a little more bearable.
Chrissy Teigen is an actually perfect human being who’s both stunningly gorgeous, hilarious and kind-hearted. She had a recent cover shoot for Vogue Thailand and took to Instagram to reveal both the cover and the happy news that she’s having a baby girl. Check her out and join me in my “how in the world is this woman five months pregnant” awe:
I know, right?! How is this even possible? She’s so gorgeous and I’m so thrilled for them that they’re having a girl. I can completely understand the excitement and the draw for not finding out the sex of your baby but for me, it was never an option to be surprised. While I see the appeal for other couples, it seemed like a total no-brainer to find out if we were having a boy or a girl because SOMETHING had to get me through the misery of pregnancy and this little piece of information was a nice half-time show before the Superbowl. (The Superbowl being birth. Sorry, I love football.)
When I was feeling swollen and sorry for myself, at least I could say my baby’s name over and over under my breath. Remind myself what I was doing this for. When I walked down the driveway to get the mail feeling as though a bowling ball were between my legs I could imagine holding my little boy or little girl and picture how they’d look. When I got curious one night and held a mirror to my sore vagina (do NOT try this….just trust me, it’s for the best) only to see that the swelling made it look like it had gotten into a fight and lost, at least I could go touch the teeny Yankees onesie my parents bought when they found out my baby bump was, in fact, a boy. It seemed a small comfort during a time where I needed lots of fucking comfort.
Of course, we don’t need to know. No one does. Our parents didn’t and generations before them didn’t either and everyone survived. Babies don’t care if their clothes and nursery are certain colors and Lord knows they have no idea inside the womb that you’re calling them by name. It’s something for the parents and let’s be honest, mostly for the mom to help us reach the finish line of the long journey of pregnancy. Regardless, I’ll happily take it.