My first child was going to be a boy.
People rubbed my belly, commented on my puffy glowing face, my shiny hair, and even my breast size.
It was often pointed out to me that my husband’s family predominantly had boys (whereas mine were all girls), and most people I came in contact with took pride in informing me that they "just knew" that I was going to have a boy. So much so, I believed them.
Watch: How to talk to little girls. Post continues below.
That was until I had a dream at about five months pregnant that I was sitting on the beach next to a chubby baby girl, with a frilly little sun hat on. A dream that gave me a little flutter of excitement. I realised then that no matter the gender; I was going to be mighty happy that I soon would be sitting on the beach with my beautiful baby.
It was also the moment I had the tiniest inkling it was going to be a girl.
That dream came true. Three times over.
And for all the flack and unwanted commentary that I’ve received for being a mum of only girls, I still wouldn’t change a thing.
The best thing about being a mum of girls is that I kind of feel like I am privy to a special mum club (just as I’m sure boy mums do) and I basically feel like the luckiest mum in the world. In declaring this though, I’m not ignorant to the fact that pretty much every mum in the world feels like they’re damn lucky just to be able to experience a bond so special as the one you have with your own child, whatever gender you give birth (adopt/foster) to, and whatever pronoun your child wishes to identify as, as they grow and develop their own identity.