Something strange happened to me while I lie on the ultrasound table, trying to forget about my throbbing bladder: my ache for a little girl in my life was obliterated at the sight of my youngest son. Perhaps, down the road it will return, as Logan and I discuss the direction of our family, but for now, in my here-and-now, this little boy is exactly what was intended for our family. It was always him, and he's supposed to be a him. Elias is supposed to grow up with a brother. I'm supposed to be a mom of boys (maybe always, maybe for now). It was strange to realize that he's what I wanted all along, even 3 weeks ago when I was praying in Fred Meyer over the baby girl clothes that God would give me someone to put them on.
We called family to let them know we were tossing another little boy into the Martin pool and we were met with this odd, apologetic tone a lot of the time. This wracks me with guilt, so let me be clear RIGHT NOW: there is not a shred of my being that was let down when that tech giggled and I saw my baby boy. Not even a little. If God ever gives us a baby girl I will be THRILLED. If God gives us more little boys to love I will be THRILLED. In equal measure. I don't know how to explain that but it's the honest truth.
Oh, and p.s. Wal Mart lady, you were wrong.