My mother had always dreamed of having a daughter.
She and my father were fortunate to have sons first. I came along as the fourth child, the youngest and most eagerly awaited. Mother often called me her princess. Sometimes, in jest, shed say the boys were a handful and harder to keep in line. So, when the midwife told her after my scan that I was expecting a boy, she felt a pang of disappointment.
For my husband and me, the childs gender was never the most important thing. From the moment we learned I was expecting, we loved our little one unconditionally. After the scan, we started buying bits and bobs, slowly putting together a nursery, choosing more boyish toys and clothes. My mother would warn us not to rush, reminding us that anything could happen.
I dont know if she was praying, or if she just had a mothers intuition, but when our child was born, we received quite the surprise – it was a girl. Sometimes, scans can be deceiving. What seems certain can turn out quite differently.
Mother was, of course, over the moon. Meanwhile, I found myself wondering if we should swap the navy blue onesies adorned with little cars for something else. I didnt want folk assuming the baby in the pram was a boy when I was out strolling with my daughter.
