But it’s a girl.
And now I have a lot to think about – partly because I dwell on the future in a generally pessimistic way and partly because in my mind I was sure it was going to be a boy (until a week or so ago, actually).
I’m not sure yet if I thought it was a boy because I kind of wanted it to be a boy or because I legitimately thought it would be a boy.
I wanted it to be a boy for a few reasons: 1) I know how hard it is to grow up a girl, 2) There’s a lot I don’t know about being a girl and a lot I am suddenly responsible for teaching, 3) Joe’s parents already have a granddaughter, and I kind of wanted them to have a grandson, but most importantly…
4) If it was a boy, we were going to name it after my grandfather. While I think we have chosen a beautiful name for our daughter, I was very much looking forward to the opportunity to honour my grandfather and his family by giving him the fifth generation Perry in our family.
My grandfather is a kind and thoughtful man who has mattered more to me than everyone else in my life (and I think Joe accepts and understands that, in fact before he proposed he went to Gramps to ask for his blessing – a fact that may have meant more than the proposal itself). It is very, very important to me that my grandfather knows just how important he is to me, and I thought naming our child after him would be one way he would accept as a tribute.
Maybe we’ll have a second baby, and maybe it will be a boy, but I guess for now my tribute will be to love this little girl as wholly as he loved me, and to be the rock in her life that he is in mine.