Gender reveals. It’s a pregnancy milestone. One that you spend countless hours wondering about. The ultrasound date nears, the anticipation grows. You make plans around it. A gender reveal party. A carefully crafted social media post. And however it happens, it all boils down to a singular moment. That moment you open the envelope. That moment you cut the gender cake or those colored balloons rise from out a big box. It’s a moment you can’t recreate. A moment that stays with you forever.
Yeah, it’s supposed to be like that. Except when it’s not. Take ours, for instance. Ours…malfunctioned.
Let me explain.
When you’re expecting, things change. They change hard.
There’s the obvious stuff. The stuff you can see. Like your partner’s belly. Maybe you’re developing some belly of your own. You might paint a room. You may consider a new car. A bigger place. That stuff is normal. That’s to be expected.
What I didn’t expect was the mental change. This new inner voice that’s appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Let me give you an idea of what I’m talking about:
We’ve all seen them. They don scratchy white cotton socks, khaki cargo shorts, some ill-fitting faded shirt, and tightly laced new balance sneakers. They’re white and squint when looking at their flip-phone. They’re called Lame Dads and they’re taking over America.
I’ve often wondered when this seemingly inevitable transition starts. Does it happen overnight? Or is it slow, steady, and without your realizing? Most importantly, can it be avoided?
Your image of man. A man’s man. Think about it. What’s the first thing that comes to mind? If you’re like me, it looks something like this:
Or maybe this: