Finding out I was pregnant for the third time was exciting and scary at the same time. Exciting because I had always wanted at least three kids and scared because I know this was the last chance to be able to get my girl.
I was a #boymom before then and had always dreamed of having a little girl. Baby girl thoughts filled my mind as I hoped to speak my wants into existence. For the first 12 weeks, I did every old wives tale thing to try and confirm it was a girl and prayed every night that it was. When I went for an early sonogram, I ugly cried when I found out it was a girl. I had finally gotten my wish. Pink, bows and tutu dresses were in my future.
I spent a small fortune on bows, clothes, shoes and everything girly. And for the first year of her life, she was my living doll. But after she turned one, she no longer liked the bows or let me dress her in tutus and frilly dresses. She’s scream whenever I’d try and put them on. Although she liked dolls, she liked playing with her older brothers toys more and was learning all the gross boy things as she copied my sons with burbs, farts and other boy-isms. Where had my living doll gone?
I always thought little girls were easier than boys, having heard from certain friends that their daughters would quietly play on their own and weren’t as crazy as boys. My daughter was the opposite of that and she’s still most likely my hardest kid. She’s barely now more interested in her dolls and bows, but still likes to run wild with her brothers. I’ve accepted that my daughter isn’t going to be the kind of girl I thought I’d have and admire her wild spirit (although I have my hands full). She’s going to grow up with fire in her soul, and I know she’s going to hold her on when the time comes. While she might still not like frilly dresses or tutus and hates taking “cute” pictures, I’m still crossing my fingers she grows out of that later on. Having a daughter is a huge blessing and I’m so happy to have her complete our family!