son.

It's a boy.

That tiny little "it" I've been carrying around for the past twenty weeks has always been a boy.

My boy.
My son.

I cannot even begin to describe what it is like to type those words, let alone see them and know that I wrote them.

I'm going to be honest and say that I was kind of disappointed when the ultrasound tech said that he was "300% sure" that our baby is a boy.
I've been walking around with visions of ballet, and lace, and sequins for the past few months and to have that replaced with dirt, and frogs, and mayhem was an...adjustment.

However.
That boy in there is still that baby that I have been falling in love with, that I have been feeling kick and wiggle in my belly, and he is still mine.

I'm scared for this, yes.
I feel like I've got a handle on girls, I know what to do...but when it comes to boys, I feel slightly lost.

But he's my boy.

My son.

And I'm his mom.

And that's it.
That's all there is.