I am perfectly aware that guilt is quite possibly the most useless of all emotions to allow myself to experience.

However, allow me to indulge myself — and you — in my guilt. I figure by acknowledging and voicing it — I’ll be able to move on and put this behind me.

Otherwise, I think it will continue to be the silent monster that it has been. Eating me up and keeping me awake. Damn you, Guilt.

Here goes.

I feel tremendous Mommy Guilt. Little Babe isn’t even here and already I’m feeling the harsh onslaught of this demon. Yesterday, The BF, TC and my great aunts went to my ultrasound appointment.

That’s right — FOH has an entourage. I’m incredibly blessed that this baby already has so many people giving love and support.

Anyway, it finally hit home yesterday that this baby really, most likely, is a boy. Just typing that took my breath away.

Here’s the thing, People. I knew months before I was even pregnant that a baby was coming. The Universe and The People inundated me with signs. I wanted and tried to ignore them, but I couldn’t. All of these signs focused around a girl.

Maman had them, too. I can’t tell you how many dreams between the two of us and random things that happened that all pointed to Emma Charlotte. Hell, I was calling this baby Emma Charlotte right from the start.

I knew. No doubts. This was my daughter. Until I didn’t know because I had my ass handed to me at the 20 week ultrasound.

Since then I’ve been on the fence. The girl signs and messages have continued and I wasn’t convinced on any of the “money shots” that I was really seeing boy junk. I have avoided saying, he, and stuck with FOH and little babe.

But yesterday … yesterday, I don’t think there’s much room for error, because I saw a pretty damn clear view of some boy parts. And I feel conflicted, confused and at odds.

How have I been this off about my own child? I feel like I haven’t picked up on the soul of this baby at all. That brings me to tears, because I feel like a good Mother would feel connected to her baby.

Of course, I am connected to him, but not in the way I thought. Which is much worse, because, I think … how am I supposed to allow my child to be Who They Are when I haven’t even allowed that?

Have I been loving who I haven’t thought I was loving? Am I going to love my child with that kind of love I hear other Mother’s talk about and the way Maman says she loves us?

I am up shits guilt creek without a paddle, People.

I have felt like such a world class a-hole mama about this that until now, I’ve never been able to completely say it. I thought this baby was a girl, I loved this girl and now I don’t know what to do with a boy.

All I can picture is my nephew running around naked and saying, my balls my balls my balls!, all the damn time. Which he does and yes, it’s hilarious. But … WHAT do I do with that?!

Everyone keeps telling me I just need to love my baby. That’s it and that’s all. Just love the baby. I have heard this statement from the most surprising of People that have left me speechless.

Over and over, it’s coming back to, just love. And now, I’m secretly afraid and wondering if I can do that right? I mean, right enough without f-ing up this precious little person because of my own shit?

Just when I think I know and understand and can love — wholeheartedly and openly, I see how far I have to go. Not that I think it’s a bad thing by any means … I guess I just thought I was way farther along than I realized.