I don't think there was any doubt with Mere that she was having another boy. I was secretly holding out hope that she'd have a girl, but I knew that she wanted a boy, had a boy's name picked out and was destined to have a football team's worth of boys. When she told me she was pregnant with her first child four years ago (and five weeks after her wedding), I bought her a pretty little pink girl's outfit. One year, after G#1 was born and we were staying in her guest room, I saw the little dress hanging in the closet. When she was pregnant with G#2, she knew he was a boy right away and just last week, I told her that I was sure that G#3 (yes, they all have names starting with the letter "G"), could still be a girl. G#1 overheard me and stated, very matter-of-factly, that the baby couldn't be a girl because he is a dinosaur and dinosaurs eat baby girls.

They were right. The doctor confirmed it yesterday. No lunch for the dinosaur.

When I changed the girls' diapers in front of her, Mere said that she wouldn't know what to do with a girl, if it was one. I replied that I wouldn't know what to do with a boy either. Knowing us, I could have told you ten years ago that we'd be where we are today. Me with my girls and her with her boys.

She's already talking about G#4, but she's not one of those that will keep trying to get her little girl. She has always wanted a big family. Of boys. Maybe she'll return the pink dress for my next girl.