Okay, I’m not going to address the length of time between this update and the last one. Except for that previous sentence. Moving on…

It’s taken several years, but I think I can finally admit to myself that we’re not going to have a daughter. Earlier in the year Tom and I went back and forth over the issue, and although we’d decided awhile ago that adoption wasn’t in our future, I still couldn’t let it go. I knew for a fact I didn’t want to be pregnant again, but I kept saying to myself, “if God dropped a baby in our laps…” Yeah, that didn’t happen. And if I’m being honest with myself, I am glad it didn’t. Connor is potty-trained (except for at night, but that doesn’t really count) and out of his crib, and we have officially moved beyond those baby years. You know, the years where you tote half your worldly possessions with you everywhere you go and you learn to operate on a few minutes’ sleep. Just thinking about going through all that again makes me…tired. Not excited, not yearning, just tired. And I’m okay with that. I have finally given myself permission to move beyond the desire for a daughter, and embrace my life as a mom of boys. A life full of Legos, baseball, Cub Scouts, fart jokes and skateboards. Is it too early to start praying that I’ll one day have a granddaughter?

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