When people find out I’m pregnant, more often than not they say, “I’ll bet you want a girl this time, don’t you?”
The truthful answer has been: Not really. In fact, I didn’t really have a preference.
I adore having a boy. I love watching him grow. I love watching him idolize his Daddy. I love watching him run around outside. I would be thrilled to have another, and enjoy years of watching Conlan run around with his little brother.
Then again, I had to admit it might be nice to have one of each, too. So a girl wasn’t out of the question.
If I was really, truly, honest with myself though, I would have to admit that I was leaning towards prefering a boy. I know how to raise a boy. I know how to potty train a boy. They pee standing up. You don’t have to comb their hair. They look adorable in sweatpants and a onesie. You don’t have to deal with drama. Or tights. Easy. Bring on the blue.
And then I found myself in Babies R Us, shopping for another mom-to-be, when my eyes meandered over to a section of pink bottles decorated with delightfully feminine flowers, and I found myself getting unexpectedly misty. Oh my gosh, I thought. I want a girl!
I am so grateful that the good Lord is choosing to bless us with another child, and when we find out what we’re having on August 13th, I know we will be fall-on-our-face overjoyed with the gift we’ve been given – boy or girl. I’m also realistic enough to admit, though, that I will have to process through some emotions over the baby that we didn’t get.
Because if I were to be politically correct I would tell you that I don’t care what we have, as long as they are healthy.
But I’ve realized that’s not true.
I want both.