My wife thought we were having a boy.
Of the dozens of friends and family we asked, “So what do you think we’ll have,” nearly everybody said “boy.”
Hell, even the new app I download for my iPhone — the Baby Gender app that takes the mom and pop’s birthdays and calculates the sex of you baby to what they say is nearly an 80 percent accuracy — said we were having a boy.
I was pretty much the only one who thought “girl” heading into Thursday’s doctor’s appointment … the one you take around 17-20 weeks to get the ultrasound that can see the sex of your baby. So when we saw our little girl’s legs spread (the last time she’ll be doing THAT, I said), revealing a lack of male parts … I was the least surprised of all.
And then it hit me. I’m going to have a little girl.
Pink baby clothes. Disney princesses. Barbie Dolls. Hannah Montana (who should be just plain ol’ Miley by the time my girl starts caring). Dora. Dancing. Soccer. Ballet. Softball. Makeup. Boys. Cell phones. Driving. College. Husband. Kids.
Circle of life.
I think every guy who wants kids wants a boy at some point in life … and you’re never really sure how you’re going to react once that doctor tells you you’re going to have one or the other.
When I was told I was going to have a girl, I beamed. All of the aforementioned “girly” stuff above … I started looking forward to it (well, except the boys and husband part).
Jennifer and I are thrilled that it’s gonna be a girl. Immediately after the news, we bought the first “onesies” … the one I picked says “I love my daddy.” And now, I can’t wait to meet her (Jennifer moreso, since she gets to carry the kid throughout the long, hot summer).
Thanks to everybody who’s sent their congratulations and well wishes. I’m sure I’ll be writing about our little girl a lot from here on out.
And as for the name? Well, it’s picked.
But something has to be a surprise. We’ll announce that on her birthday.