AS I look at my sleeping baby’s face, fear slithers into my heart.
Before this beautiful girl came into the world, we were a boy family. Exclusively. Sure, they were a handful, my five boys. Lively and active and (more than) sometimes destructive, but I never felt like I needed to have a girl.
With this pregnancy, friends and acquaintances and random people who saw me with my boys would comment that they hoped this one would be a girl. But I, I didn’t feel that way. Having boys was easier. I didn’t have to worry that they’d struggle with the same struggles I faced.
But no. It’s going to be fine. She won’t have to go through what I did because I’m finished fighting those battles. I’ll never call myself fat in front of her, and I’ll never critique my body as if it’s a trophy that needs more shine within her earshot.
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