In a Sun Hat

Oh, you crazy girls over at Momalom. Did you just know Lust would be the toughest topic of all? I admit the first post I wrote on the topic will never see the light of day. I realize I actually DO have boundaries, after all. With that, I completely shifted gears. 

Bonnets.

Little knit hats. Rompers. Skirts that reveal roll upon roll of delicious chubbiness.

I so, so wanted a girl.

When I found out we were having a boy for our first child, I felt only a small swallow of disappointment. My husband and I planned on having another child - another chance for a girl. (Do I need to even say that OBVIOUSLY our first concern was that the baby was healthy? Just in case you are tsk tsking to yourself. Which I know you're not, because that's not how you roll.)

I mean, I love my son. He's adorable and, in retrospect, was a very easy baby. But I didn't see myself having a tea party with him, or later, getting pedis together.

So when we got pregnant when Sawyer was a year old, I started daydreaming about pink. But I just knew it would be a boy, because really really wanting something does not make it so. And why should I be so lucky?

It was a boy. I was sure of it.

Then we had the ultrasound. David and I stared at the black and white image on the screen. It was so clear, we could see the motes floating in the amniotic fluid. And we weren't first-timers. We'd seen boy parts before. I cocked my head to the side. David leaned in. Finally the tech said, "Do you want to know?"

I said, "It's a boy, right?"

"I'll put you out of your misery," she said. "Imagine the baby is sitting on a glass table. And you are under it, looking up. That's the view you're getting. Of your baby girl."

David and I looked at each other through tears. We couldn't believe it.

A girl.

Pigtails. Ballet shoes. Dolls. Pink. Did I mention pink? Because when you've dressed your child in blue and brown and green and in shirts with trucks and footballs on them, you might go a little overboard with a certain other color.

I hoped for another girl when I became pregnant with our third. I love to shop. And I may have bought enough to outfit North America and parts of Canada a few too many things for Sage, so it would've been nice to get another wear out of that cute velvet skirt.

Of course, we had another boy, and he is perfect for our family.

Still, I feel sad Sage won't have a sister. I can't imagine not having one, even though mine tormented me occasionally - like telling me, at age 4, that one day I would bleed from my Private Parts and there was nothing I could do about it.

She also came racing home early from two hours away to raise holy Hell when she heard my father and grandfather were telling me how fat I was - on the eve of my college graduation. She was my biggest champion. Who would be that for Sage?

If David and I were younger, if we had a bigger house, if we made more money, then maybe we would consider having another child. But we're old, live in a tiny house, and are lucky to do okay on one salary.

The shop is closed.

Baby lust. It's going to have to be put on hold til someone calls me "Grandma."

Maybe that someone will be a sweet baby girl in a sun hat.