We didn’t go with the intention of finding out. We knew if the baby was lying in an awkward position that we wouldn’t be able to anyway....and Chloe wanted a surprise.
But as we stood gazing at the monitor 19 weeks into the pregnancy and heard the words, “I can tell you if it’s a boy or girl if you’d like,” Chloe’s grip on my hand tightened.
“I want to know.... if you’re ok with that,” she smiled.
“You’re having a little girl.”
Chloe cried tears of joy for the daughter she’s dreamt of having since she was a girl herself. I swallowed a lump in my throat and considered all the teenage boys I will be chasing from my front door 15 years from now. But it was a happy though.
A little girl. A beautiful, tiny, baby girl.
Tonight, we told the family. Even our son was excited, despite initially declaring that he definitely wanted a brother.
“Well... I’ll show her how to play football and then she will be the best girl at football at her school.”
My sister and my in-laws were just delighted.
And now everyone is asleep and I’m sitting pouring thoughts onto a blank Word document with the happiest lump in my throat.
A little girl. All of the names we’d discussed for little girls seem so.... unsuitable.... now that we know it’s a daughter. I wonder why that is.
So it will be back to the drawing board on the names front.
But I love her already. Whatever she’s called, whether she’s tall or short.... whether she likes tennis or not, whether she decides to play musical instruments or otherwise...I love her.
I’m sitting here picturing my little angel, feeling a combination of happy, excited and marginally terrified. I cannot wait.
“My daughter.” Wow.... just wow.
Gifts like this make me believe there may be a God, after all.