Except the boys who read this blog…you don’t drool. Ok maybe some of you do.
I’ve always said that it didn’t matter to me if we had a boy or a girl. And I still stand by that. I want the baby to be healthy. I’ve come too far and agonized and stressed for too long, to prefer one gender over another right now. The funny thing was, every night I’d have such vivid dreams, mostly of taking care of a baby boy. So I figured my mind was telling me I was carrying a boy. I mean, only a boy could use my internal organs as punching bags and soccer balls and other sports equipment with that much strength.
So, so wrong.
10 minutes before our 2nd trimester ultrasound, I asked Chris, “Wouldn’t it be funny if it’s a girl?”
And it was.
Chris will definitely spoil her, I know it. I think he knows it too. He wants to give her a house with her own room with lots of toys and crap one day. Which makes him sad, since we’re not quite at the point of looking at a house yet. He said if we had a boy, he wouldn’t mind living in a cardboard box.
Personally, I wouldn’t want any of my children living in a cardboard box…that’s just me. But I get what he’s saying.
Of course, our girl probably won’t end up much of a girly girl, if most of you really know me. Chris jokes that he’ll come home from work one day and our 5 yr old daughter will be reading one of my existentialist novels and asking him what the meaning of life is, rather than playing tea party with her dolls.