Oh boy, its a girl!

I know patience is a virtue, but I have to confess I often find myself running a bit short, especially in certain situations. Like waiting to find out the sex of a baby! I admire those women who wait until the baby is born, but I just can't do it. For one thing, I want to know exactly what to prepare for. What color to paint the nursery, what name to pick out. So this past Friday we headed to the Medical Center for my sister's friend, Nikki, to do an ultrasound.
So I got on the table and got my belly all covered in goo, and she got started. I had just taken my eyes off the screen to look over at my sister and say, "I know its going to be a girl!" and Rachel nodded and said, "Yep, there it is!" So I missed the big moment! Nikki measured her and she is at 7 ounces right now, isn't that incredible? Then we looked at the rest of her. And I'm laying there on the table doing a mental checklist: kidneys? check. Bladder? check. Spine? check. Stomach? check? Heart? check. I could almost hear a little intercom in my head saying "Houston, we have a go!"
It would have been nice to have a boy, but I am perfectly content with my baby girl. After all, how can I look at Bella and wish she was anything else? How can I look at my sister, and wish Bella to have something different? I already love both my girls. We are going to name Baby #2 Abbigail, which means my fathers joy. I know she will be! Bella and Abbi...
I'm already imagining the new challenges that will arise from having two little ones...and ready for the extra moments of joy it will bring. Being a mom is the best, hardest, most rewarding, scariest thing I have ever done. I remember it hitting me like a ton of bricks when Bella was an infant: I have to be to her what my mother is to me! Big shoes to fill! I love my mother excrutiatingly, and if she made any failures as a mother (I'm sure she would tell you she did) they were so far overshadowed by her infinite love that they have ceased to exist in my heart or memory.
I look at my daughter now, and seem to measure my life by her birth. There was my life before, and then her. It is sometimes hard to reconcile the two. So much happened before her. It makes me wonder about my parents, because as children we tend to put their life in a neat little box- mommy and daddy grew up, fell in love, got married, and had me! - when if fact our histories are never that simple. Parents had dreams, and heartaches, and triumphs, long before we came along. And so did I.
But for now, my biggest dream is on the couch, cuddled with her blankie and a sippy of chocolate milk. And in a moment I will tuck her in bed, say a prayer over her, and listen for her little voice in the darkness as I close her bedroom door: "Love you too, mommy."