I owe you an explanation.
We (meaning mostly me, but Chad went along because he's great like that) were planning to have all boys--ALL boys. Like 7 or so.
We got one. Coren. Who rules my world (for the time being)!
Then we got you.
So when I first heard the ultrasound technician say, "I think we're sticking with a girl" (with all kinds of uncertainty in her voice because you really weren't cooperating), I was not ecstatic. I was, in all honesty, pretty bummed out.
I'm so sorry to say it. But there it is. Because I wasn't saying goodbye to one boy--I was saying goodbye to ALL boys. My perfect plan, gone.
That was Monday. It's been a week.
And now let me confess something else... I am ecstatic again! You, my girl, are coming! You are totally healthy! You don't have spina bifida. You don't have abnormalities (as far as can be seen at this time). You are growing just as you should, and that is always most important!
And... okay, I'll say it... you're even making me excited about being a mother of girls. There, how's that?! Before you guys are even born, you have a way of weaseling into your mother's heart! I am getting excited about the idea of sharing Sense and Sensibility, unicorns and dance nights with a daughter! I am remembering my own relationship with my dear mother--the late nights when she so graciously stayed up till midnight because her girls were spread out all over her bed, telling their high school/dating/whatever stories. How she was the first person I told when I had my first kiss, and how she laughed about it. And the fact that I miss her more now--as a mother myself with all kinds of new questions--than I did when she first passed away.
So I get to be that kind of mother--not that wonderful, mind you (your grandma was pretty close to perfect). But I get to be a mother of daughter(s). I get to play with you, listen to you, and hopefully be an example of the kind of woman you want to be (only you'll be much, much better). That is sort-of an intimidating thought... but it's also a tender one.
Oh, and I hope you have curly hair. I hope you get your father's eyes (and please, please, get his temperament too). I hope you believe in fairies, wander the house singing, and have your own little quirks. And (yes) that pink is not your favorite color... unless it's hot pink or something.
Mostly, I hope you know that I love you--already. That, despite my initial feelings, you will be as great a joy to me as your big brother. That I am already making a place for you in this heart that, miraculously, keeps expanding infinitely more than I thought possible. I am excited for you. I love you. And you are everything I want.