Wait, What?

     "Here's the shot of your baby, right between its legs. Do you wanna guess what you're having?" Then I saw it on the screen: a little round testicle. Well, at least I thought I saw it. "Is it a boy?" I asked, half-jokingly because I already knew the answer; I just wanted to here someone else say it.  "Nope, if you look over here, see those lines right there?  Those are your baby's genitals.  You're having a girl." "Wait, what?" I thought to myself. "Whaddaya mean we're having a girl?  Don't you know we prayed and believed in faith for a boy, have been calling our baby Little Hosea/Champ this whole time, and I ONLY did an "It's a Boy" e-mail announcement?"  Those were the thoughts running through my head, but somehow I only managed to eek out a small "oh" at the news.

    A girl? A girl? I kept repeating the question in my head. My whole world had just been rocked with one wiggle of a jelly-covered ultrasound wand. A girl? It's not that I wasn't grateful for the blessing of a healthy, living, perfectly-forming baby growing inside me.  I was. But I had envisioned dressing our baby, our son up in little Atlanta Braves outfits and taking him to games.  I saw Hosea and I attending his wrestling matches in school, and cheering him on from the stands.  I had imagined meeting his first girlfriend and thoroughly cross-examining her, giving her just an inkling of my wrath---just so she knew not to get on my bad side.  I had leisurely daydreamed all of these things, smiling to myself. I had wanted a son.

     After getting all of my tears out, and with soothing reassurances from Hosea that God knows best, and that His plans for us were perfect, and that our baby was healthy and well, I began to come to myself.  We were having a girl. A precious little baby girl. A girl! She'd be my dear, sweet little daughter. I would put her in pretty little dresses and braid her hair.  Hosea and I would still cheer her on at her sporting events. (After all, I want all of our children, no matter their sex, to inherit their father's athletic ability.  Lord God, please don't let them inherit mine).  I'd cross-examine and re-cross her first boyfriend . . right before Hosea showed him his gun. I'd make sure she was smarter and more knowledgeable than me. She'd go on to do great things. In the middle of my thoughts, I turned to Hosea. "Dang. We gon' have to pay for a wedding," We chuckled at the thought. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," I thought to myself, smiling as I continued to settle into the idea. 

     A girl.  I now had to give some serious thought to what I wanted to teach my daughter about being  a woman. What were the essential values that I wanted to instill in her?  I'd need to think about what I want her to view as important, how to stand up for herself, how to conduct herself like a lady.  How to love God, passionately. Before our doctor's visit, I had assumed that Hosea would teach our son how to be a man.  But now, I was coming to grips with the reality that I would be responsible for teaching our daughter what it means to be a godly woman. What an honor. A girl. I smiled to myself as I edited our gender reveal e-mail announcement.  "We thank God for this time and can't wait to meet our daughter," I typed. So true. So true.