I’m not one for dragging info out. I prefer to lay shit out on the table. No beating around the bush here.

Without further ado, I had my ass handed to me Thursday. Oh, like nine times.

Baby FOH, is believed to be a boy.

Second biggest shock of my life, People. The first one finding out I was knocked up to begin with.

Let me be clear immediatley so no one shit blasts me in this delicate state — the most important thing here was finding out that all looked well and healthy, which it is and it does. For that I am thankful beyond any words.

I am not disappointed I am having a son by any means, or that so they claim I am having a son. I’m just f-ing floored that every single damn sign from The People and The Universe indicated girl.

If someone had told me I had to bet my life on the sex of this baby, I would have said girl. I did say girl. I never even hesitated. I knew.

You know when you just know? Without a shred of doubt? That’s how I felt. What’s in question here is not my excitement nor love for this baby boy, it’s my own inner guidance and intuition.

I wish wish wish I was devastated that this is a boy, because that would be a hell of a lot easier to get over. But having your entire self confidence and faith rocked? Um. Yeah. That is going to take me a while to get passed.

I don’t get it. I don’t, People. I need help. I need answers. I demand an explanation from My People! I mean … April Come She Will, what in the F was that all about?!

Every time I have meditated on this baby, every time I have asked about this baby, I have felt such a strong feminine energy. And it’s not just me. Maman and I both had multiple girl baby dreams, she had many other numerous girl signs. As did a couple of my dear friends who are quite intuitive.

There was no questioning it, this was my daughter. Until I’m laying on my back with warm gel all over my stomach and a smiling ultrasound tech, saying, so you really want to know the gender?

I straight up questioned her over and over and over again. She was annoyed. I would have been annoyed with me, too.

What also bothers me is that I feel like a crappy mom. I haven’t picked up on this baby. Or I turned this baby into a girl, something he’s not. So much for already being such a great mother.

Jesus. How the hell did I miss the mark this much?

I knew this baby was coming. The messages abounded. I wanted to ignore them, I tried. But they were too obvious, too much. In fact, I even knew that at our wedding, I would be pregnant. I confided this in one of my friends, who laughed and said, don’t be so paranoid. But I knew.

What have I missed here? And how to gain solid footing again, which is what I’m much more concerned about.

I’m not concerned about having a boy. I can do boys. I was around more boys than girls growing up. I always felt more at ease with them. It will be less drama, right? And I don’t have to do a damn thing to this nursery to girly it up. There’s a win.

But I am at a complete loss in figuring out how to learn to trust myself again? I’m telling ya, way more damaging. No one seems to understand that it’s not about me not having a girl that has me so damn worked up, it’s that I suddenly have no sense of self trust. Whatsoever.

What more could I want or ask for than a healthy baby? That is the most important thing and I am so so lucky to have heard those words. To know this little babe is safe and swimming around and doing yogi poses — I witnessed a very impressive plow in real ultrasound time.

I probably could use a good long sit in silence, but I’m too pissed at The Universe to sit still. I need time to be defiant. I want someone to wave a magic wand around me and I’ll feel confident again.

Even though I am well aware this is an inside job and somewhere an answer awaits.