It has been no secret that Steve and I would love another boy. Steve picked out Brandon's name in an agreement that I would get to pick out our second child's name. I've been holding onto this name for two years, waiting to have a baby to give it to. The name, of course, is for a boy. Our toys and clothes are for a boy. Our personalities are suited for a boy.
So today, at our 20-week appointment, we anxiously waited to hear that our next baby is also a boy. If it isn't, I would be faking a sonogram like Miranda did in Sex and the City. I brought all of my testosterone with me - both Steve and Brandon; I stacked the deck in our favor. And the ultrasound tech got a good look at our littlest one and announced that it is, indeed a boy.
Holden Paul will be here in twenty more weeks. My baby has an identity that has been long awaiting his arrival. I feel like I already know him. He is my sweet second boy. A bit less adventurous and more quiet than Brandon, I presume. Yet funny and loving and smart. He will be here soon, in my arms at last, this second boy I've been hoping for since I was a young child. My dream of having two boys is reality now.