There is something very special about the bond between mothers and sons. I didn’t realize how special it was until I become a mother to a baby boy. And when I look back at my pregnancy, I can’t believe I was worried.
Like most expectant mothers when asked if I wanted a boy or a girl, I said, “I don’t care what I have so long as the baby is healthy.” And I meant it. But I have to confess: I really wanted a girl.
Before I knew what I was having – I had a dream. I remember waking up and shouting “It’s a girl!” I was so excited, I had visions of mother/daughter shopping sprees and painting each other’s nails and playing with dolls. For the next few weeks, I wandered through children department stores looking at dresses and skirts and little pink bows. Shopping for little girls was so much fun.
Three days before my 30th birthday, I walked into my sonogram appointment hand in hand with my husband. We were anxious to know the sex of our first child. When the clinician told us we were having a boy – my husband couldn’t stop smiling and there were tears in his eyes. He was going to have someone to throw the football around with.
I cried too. I was happy, grateful that I was having a healthy baby boy. But I was scared. What would I do with a boy? How could I possibly bond with my son? I’m as girly girl as they come. I don’t play sports, watch sports or understand sports. Roller coasters scare me and I don’t like getting my hands dirty. I don’t care about cars or play video games. I can’t even ride a bike. I worried that being a boy mom wouldn’t be fun for me and that my son would think I was the world’s dullest mother.
And then Norrin was bornin india