Most of you know by now so I won’t beat around the bush with my little L.O.’s gender.  It’s a boy!  It was really nice to have that long ultrasound appointment and see my baby moving.  His little hands and feet, his little face.  It was all so precious.

I was so sure it was a girl.  So as it turns out, I am full of shit.  I’ll admit that I had a little moment when I first saw that little extra appendage.  This is it for me.  The end.  Before I got pregnant this time, there was always at least the hope that someday I would have a little girl of my own, but now that is all gone.  So yes, I had a moment.  And that’s all it was.  A tiny little pang in my heart that faded as I started planning a blue teddy bear nursery and teeny tiny baseball hats and precious little sneakers for tiny little boy feet.  Now that I know the sex of my L.O., I am very excited to meet him and hold him in my arms.

The loss of the prospect of someday having a daughter of my own is still a little sore for me right now.  Last night we were at Walmart doing some shopping and (of course) I made a detour through the baby section.  I was looking at a stuffed dinosaur that played music when I bumped into a rack.  On it were tiny dresses with pink and green flowers accessorized by dainty white cardigans.  I blinked back a few tears and stepped away from the rack, like it was going to bite me.  I may pout about it forever.  It’s in no way blaming my two sons for being sons.  I guess I just wanted to have that extra experience (and pain in the ass) of raising a daughter.  But that possibility is gone from my life.  There is no more daydreaming for me, no more fantasizing about what kind of woman I would release into the world.  That daydream is disintegrating like a wisp of smoke, never to be seen again.

In place of that daydream, I have futures to plan.  I have men to put out into the world this time.  Good men.  Men who will be kind.  Men who will put their responsibilities before their own wants.  Men who will in no way EVER remind me of some of the men that I grew up around.  Good husbands (or partners).  Good fathers.  Good friends.  And most of all, good brothers.

I guess my destiny was to be surrounded by toy cars and dinosaurs.  To have discussions about why it is not appropriate to shake your winky at your grandmother.  To raise men who will grow up and never be able to relate to me as anything more than their mother.  Oh well.  I shrug it off and move on.  I love my Lukas and I’ll love my L.O.  If L.O. giggles and hugs even half as much as his big brother, I’ll have it pretty damned good.

Cute Note* I’m crying a little bit as I’m writing this post and as if to say “Don’t worry Momma,” L.O. gave me a right good kick to my bladder.  I can’t wait to meet him.

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