A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.
–from The Gospel According to Coco Chanel: Life Lessons from the World’s Most Elegant Woman, by Karen Karbo
You guys, it’s a girl.
I will be 100% honest: I had a slight preference for a boy, and I convinced myself this baby was a boy, probably because of that preference. In fact, in the days leading up to our anatomy scan, I had to remind myself that the baby could just as easily be a girl and to not let myself be disappointed if that turned out to be the case.
The day of the scan, two Fridays ago, as the ultrasound technician was getting ready, she asked, “If I can see the sex, do you want to know?” We said yes, and she put the gel on my belly and started moving the wand around. The next thing she said was, “So, you’re having a girl.” It took me a minute, because for some reason I wasn’t expecting the sex to be the first thing she looked for, but as soon as it registered, I burst into tears and looked at David to see his eyes filled with tears, and then I knew: It couldn’t have happened any other way. She’s meant to be ours.
And all of a sudden, everything is real. “The baby” is now “she” and “her.” She has a crib and a car seat. We painted her room blue, because fuck gender dichotomy. She kicks me all the time and David can feel her from the outside. We talk to her every day (to be fair, we’ve done that all along) – I speak for her in a silly voice and she and David go on and on and on. That’s the best part of my day.
I don’t have any words for how much I love her already, and I’m afraid I’m in deep, deep trouble once she’s actually here.