When I was pregnant with Rohan, well, before he was Rohan…when he was still Embry, the un-named, gender-unknown lovenugget…everyone and their mama was telling me they hoped it was a girl. (I’m not sure why)
John wanted a boy but pretended he wanted whichever.
I didn’t care at all the first time around. I was just saying I want a healthy baby.
I think I was just so nervous about being pregnant after our scare that I just wanted to get whatever it was out safely.
Now, we have this awesome, beautiful, active little boy and I’m pregnant again.
And I hope it’s a girl.
I know you’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to be all, “whatever we get is a blessing” and “just as long as it’s healthy”
Those things are still true…but
I hope it’s a girl.
In my head the “perfect” family is Dad, Mom, Son, then Daughter, and a cute doggie.
Yes, I know this is ridiculous and stems from too much television.
I want a girl for selfish reasons.
The cuteness factor of course, raising a mini-me, tutus ::avoids eye contact::, getting the pleasure of raising one of each gender, adding some estrogen into my boy-heavy family, getting those special mommy daughter best friendy type moments in the future.
However, and when I say this to people in my “real” life, usually only people with same-sex siblings as well as opposite sex siblings “feel” me on this:
I think another boy would be best for Rohan.
So even though I selfishly want a girl, I’d be happier for Roey if it’s a boy.
If it’s a boy, Rohan has a built-in bestie and co-D for the rest of his life.
Brothers and sisters can be closely bonded, but not as close as that same sex sibling bond. (That’s a scientific FACT…straight from the Encyclopedia Danielleica)
But I still hope it’s a girl.
If we go to our appointment and it’s a boy, I’m not going to cry or anything, but I can’t say I won’t feel a twinge of disappointment.
I want pink and frilly and bows and tutus dammit!!
In my head it’s a girl, my family is all hoping for a girl, John’s even calling her Embryella (I do NOT approve of that name fyi)
All that said.
In my weird view of my parenting self…I feel like I’m a “boy mom” so a house full of testosterone feels absolutely appropriate.