I confess—I wanted a girly girl.
When I found out I was pregnant, I prayed for a healthy pregnancy above all else. I’d suffered miscarriages and watched friends go through infertility. There was no taking a healthy baby for granted, and I ultimately would have been happy with either gender.
But deep in my heart, I wanted a daughter.
I love everything about being a girl. High heels, makeup, dancing, and lace dresses to name a few. I love old-fashioned chivalry, and when my husband holds a door for me, I secretly melt a little inside every time.
I loved planning my own wedding and one day want to help my daughter plan hers. Picking out flowers, contemplating cake decorations . . . these are things I dream about.
Braiding her hair and painting nails—these little things I wanted to share with a girl of my own.
I knew I’d be happy with sons, and God blessed me with two.
I also knew I’d cherish a girl who didn’t like anything girly. If she wanted to play football and watch monster truck rallies every day, I’d support it no questions asked.
But deep in the secret part of my heart, I really wanted the girliest girl of them all.
And I got her and more.
It’s everything I imagined it would be.
I wrapped her in a soft white blanket with pink piping at the hospital and brought her home in a flowery outfit and headband. Her room was decorated in butterflies and glitter, pink polka dots, and daisies. A fairy castle on the floor, dolls in the toybox.
She loved dress-up and princesses, endless hours of Disney sing-alongs, and tea parties.
We splurge on girly pampering like a blow-out before a special event, and she has big opinions on fancy Easter dresses and matching hats.
Cute shoes, long dresses, extra tulle, sparkling flippy shirts. Dance recitals, mommy/daughter manicures, and hair bows. And of course, all the drama that comes along with it. Giggling girlfriends, sassy comebacks, boy drama.
She’s a spunky one with her daddy wrapped around her little finger.
Yet she bucks all the stereotypes, too. She likes soccer even more than ballet. She can maneuver a ball around her brother, no problem. But she’ll do it with purple shin guards on, advocating for the “Flying Unicorns” as their team name.
With her dad and brothers, she’ll watch sports and learn the players, interested in everything the world has to offer. But she’s also the one finding the only pink jersey in the store to wear to the game.
She’ll wake me early on a Saturday to make pancakes or muffins, insisting on an apron covered in fairies and her American Girl baking dishes.
She’s a beautiful mixture of feminine and tough, and one day she’s going to show the world who’s boss.
I got my girl, and I’m so very happy.
She’s everything I wanted and more. My girly girl with a heart of fire.