A story for anyone who may be having a boy :) -
Every time I put my contacts in everything looks larger until my eyes adjust, which usually only takes a few minutes. This morning I put my contacts in, went and got Henry out of bed, took him downs stairs, changed diaper and stripped him so I could put his clothes for the day on. This is our morning routine, but usually I'm in my glasses. Today when he was sitting there in his diaper waiting to put new clothes on I had to stop and take a minute. He looked like such a big boy! I could have cried if I thought about it too long so I got him dressed. Now he's laying on a pillow finishing a bottle and watching Baby Einstein, and he looks even bigger!
When I found out I was pregnant I said the tired old line "I don't care what it is as long as it's healthy" over and over again when any one asked my preference. Secretly, I wanted a girl so bad I wasn't even considering boy names. And when the sonogram said boy (even though I was pretty sure that's what he was from the moment I found out I was pregnant) I was happy, but a little disappointed. I thought I would miss out on the frilly dresses, and the matching bows, and the pink, and the soft pretty things that scream girl. When Arlena and I went shopping later I went to the baby section and moped through looking at all the racks and racks of pretty baby girl clothes and then headed to the two racks of baby boy clothes. "#1 athlete', 'MVP', pictures of dump trucks. Boo! I was even less excited about a boy then. But, the day he was born none of that mattered. He was perfect, and praise God, healthy. I had gotten exactly what I wanted. And this morning I pulled a 'Mommy loves me' onsie one him and some stripey pants and was relieved that I don't have to find a matching bow, or make sure he has on ruffley panties because we are going to church and ruffley panties are always a crowd pleaser. And when I do go to the store and have only a rack or two of clothes to choose from, I just look to the future. When Henry is 10 I won't have to argue with him that he can't wear a shirt that says 'hot stuff' on it or pants with 'juicy' across his butt, even though all the other kids are doing it. At least I hope not...
For now, I'm happy with my little guy. Having a son has been so much fun, and the greatest blessing we could have asked for.
And who knows, maybe the next one will get to wear frilly dresses.