Boy Oh Boy I sat in my car that summer day after we got the news, and I couldn’t fathom that I was to have yet another girl. My mind raced for an answer that wouldn’t be found; my face was pale and blank. I love my daughter profoundly, and I will love the next, but it just won’t sink in. I almost forgot that my husband is sitting next to me, I feel like I am in a bubble. He is on his phone with a huge smile, I can hear my mother-in law through the speaker so over joyed at a new granddaughter. I grow jealous from listening to their blissful tones; I want to be cheerful too. As my husband hangs up the phone, he knows that something isn’t right. He asks if I am mad as if he couldn’t tell by the look on my face. I wouldn’t really say I was “mad,” I was intensely frustrated because in my mind, in my soul, I was having a boy. It doesn’t help that I had raging hormones and emotional ups and downs at that time. I felt like the most horrible person in the world that day. I was not “jumping for joy” at such wonderful news; I was sulking, and it felt atrocious. The next few months, I tried to settle in with the idea. The doctor was very sure of her observations, “if it’s not a girl you can come back here and slap me silly,” were her exact words. I moved on. We called my bulging belly “Peyton Louise”. We painted her room “precious pink” and decorated with the utmost cuteness. I really overdid the girly stuff so that I can try to get comfortable with the idea. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I would love my daughter and I love the thought of two sisters running through our house and filling our lives with their dreams and imaginations. I couldn’t help it though, when I dreamt at night, I had a boy in my arms and he had curly blonde hair with big ears, just like his daddy. About 8 months along, I was over “the crazies” as I call them; I was ready. I had a duffle bag packed with her best pink and cozy outfit. Her big sister had lots of “big sister” t-shirts and “my little sister” books. We talked every night about what “Peyton” was going to be like. She was thrilled and I couldn’t be happier. They would grow up to be best of friends; I think everyone needs a sister. My husband was excited that he was going to have another “daddy’s girl”. Maybe this one will be a tom-boy he thought. The night before, we talked about the future and how excited we were to meet our new baby. Right before we turned in, I told my husband, “I still kind of think that… he is going to be a trouble maker,” he just smirked and shook his head. That next morning we were due at the hospital at 5 am for induction. We woke up at 4:30 startled by our alarm clock. It was dark out and a blanket of snow covered the pavement as we drove the few but endless blocks to the hospital. My mind wandered of what was about to happen. Our lives were about to change dramatically; I couldn’t wait. At 2:23 pm I gave that one last push. I felt a sudden relief as I looked into my husbands surprised teary eyes. I closed my eyes for just a second and took a deep breath and silently thanked God. Even though I couldn’t see anything but my knees, the doctor’s caps and face masks, I knew instantly that he was here. The doctor called out in a drab, monotone voice, “a beautiful, healthy…BOY”. The tears poured over my face as I finally felt relief from the frustration I was feeling all of those past months. I was stunned, I couldn’t believe it, my instinct was right. I got to meet my son that day. Ryan Jack Thomas Alexander entered the world with a bang. Now all we needed was some blue paint and to lose the pink lacey outfits.