|Refusing to cooperate. Hiding in a ball.|
I have been riding a CRAZY emotional roller coaster for the last 2 days, since finding out our little one is a girl.
She is moving and kicking a ton, and it's so reassuring to feel her in there. It's also oddly reassuring to be able to reference her using proper pronouns (instead of calling her 'it'...she was also incorrectly referred to as 'he' for the last few weeks).
I thought that knowing her gender would make me feel relieved. Like, "OK, now I know and can plan accordingly." Instead I pretty much panicked and cried.
A million worries flew through my head Tuesday afternoon:
"is green the right color for her nursery? should we make it more girly? i'm not super girly...will she be? how am i going to protect her from all of the crazies in the world? kids are mean! so are a lot of adults for that matter! there is no way she's getting a cell phone before high school and texting pictures of her boobies to pervert little boys! what if she wants to text pervert little boys!?! what if pervert little boys pressure her to do things she doesn't want to do!? what if she gets bullied!? what if she hates me when she's a teenager!?!? what if i suck at parenting? what if i raise a brat child? what if she doesn't have any friends? what if she has hair like mine and looks like she has a giant frizzy puff ball on her head for the first 16 years of her life!?!?! what if, what if, WHAT IF!?!?!?!?!"
I. freaked. OUT.
It sounds silly, I know.
Finally last night I had a thought. I thought to myself, "Dude, you're freakin' out and she's still 4 months away from being born. Calm down. Have a drink (of juice). Give it to God. And take it one day at a time."
So that's what I'm going to do.
I'm just so anxious to meet this girl!
|peaking over her shoulder at us.|
|Blurry face. The one time she looked straight out at us. And then she moved before we could get a good picture.|