For years I’ve fantisized about what it would be like to be a Mom. In these daydreams, I always had a little girl… a little me that would dress up like a Princess and want to have tea parties and wear dresses. I wanted to take girl trips to Paris where we would each sit in a cafe writing in our journals sipping cafe au lait’s and wandering around the art galleries and museums.
When we found out we were pregnant, I was SURE it was a girl. So sure, that in the ultrasound when the technician said it was a boy, I cried because I couldn’t believe it wasn’t a girl. I’ll be honest – I was dissapointed. I didn’t want a boy, I wanted a girl. The next four months I couldn’t believe that I was having a boy – what do you do with a boy? We can’t wear dresses and have makeovers and spa days…
Moments after he was born and placed all squishy on my chest, I asked the nurse if it was a boy. Still hopeful that maybe the two ultarsounds were wrong – maybe it was what I wanted all along.
Tomorrow is his two week birthday… and, I can’t believe I’m saying this… but, I couldn’t imagine him being anything other then what he is. It hit me today, I no longer care that he’s not a girl. He’s perfect and I can get used to playing with trucks and GI Joe’s. Hockey games aren’t the end of the world and who knows, maybe he’ll still like to get pedicures with his Mommy.
I wouldn’t trade him in for a dozen girls… and, I’m glad he’s a boy. It just took me a little while to realize it.