"Well, that family has four girls. Maybe I could have four girls too."
"But, if this baby is a girl, then... it isn't a boy."
"And if it isn't a boy, then I won't get to hold my David Jonathon."
"Maybe there is no David Jonathon."
"But maybe, maybe there IS one! Maybe we'll have a boy!"
"Just imagine, a little boy... could I do it? Could I teach a boy all the things he needs to know?"
"Well... maybe it will be a girl."
Thus I went round and round in circles, my pregnancy hormones taking me up one side and then down, down the other, and then up up up I would go again. One moment elated at the thought of another girl, and then sad at the thought of no boy. The next moment excited at the prospect of a little boy person running around this house, and then sad at the thought that I wouldn't have one more girl child to wear all my favorite pink outfits one more time.
It was exhausting. But the day finally came, and we all got dressed and ready to go "meet" this newest little baby. In the car on the way there, Hallie firmly declared herself to be of the "boy" opinion, and Hanna was firmly in the "girl" camp. Heather remained staunchly neutral.
I was nervous, as I always am on the way to the ultrasound, worrying about seeing baby's bones and heart and brain, and making sure baby had all baby needed to be healthy and strong.
The technology has improved so much from when we saw Hallie this way, I could immediately pick out fuzzy grey features and limbs, and it was fun to point them out to the girls and see them get excited about baby - watching this new little person become a reality to them.
And then the technician asked if we were ready to hear. Now that I knew all was healthy, I was much more relaxed.
"Well," she says to us with a smile, "looks to me like you're going to have one more girl!"
And we all cheered and laughed, and it was a perfect moment.
But then, in the quiet corners of my heart, I grieved. I said goodbye to dreams of a Lightning McQueen Superman Jake the Neverland Pirate Mickey Mouse person. Gone now were visions of a little boy all dressed up to show off his heroes, running to the door when his real Hero comes home, squealing "daddy!" all the way through the house. I closed the door on the image of a boy with sunshine in his hair, and blueberries for eyes, and apple pie cheeks. I packed him away with other childhood dreams that have come and gone, and went back to rejoicing with my family over news of baby girl.
Because I really am excited. Clearly, I love girls. Clearly, I have fun doing flowers and pink and braids and dolls and princesses and all of that is a good time.
In quiet moments throughout the day however, as my body reminds me that this really has to be the last baby, I've tucked that dream of David a little deeper in the softest corners of my heart.
I'll tell you this. My girls better warn their husbands when they get married - I never got to have sons, and I plan on loving the men they pick like they were my own. These men may be grown all out of Lightning McQueen and Jake the Neverland Pirate, and I certainly hope Mickey Mouse, but if I hug them tight, and hold them long, I hope they understand.
They will be the boys I never had.