It’s magical isn’t it, having a baby, growing the tiny little seed from your belly button into the tiny little dictator that demands biscuits and milk at 2am.

But we have an image don’t we? We see ourselves with our babies long before they arrive, picking out little outfits that will suit them, imagining a little girl tugging round a mini Henry hoover behind us. Matching pink converse with our own. Total mom goals. So when that gets blown out the water, at probably the most hormonal stage in our lives (minus the menopause those bitches are crazyyyyy! ) then why is it seen as totally wrong to be disappointed?

My friend today said she wanted a girl and would be silently disappointed if it were a boy. She’s not even pregnant. But you know what… I get it. I was like her. I wanted that mini me, tutus, ballet lessons and what did I get? I got Oscar. When I found out I was having a little boy the first thing we did was go shopping, let me fucking tell you, boys clothes ARE SHIT and boy did I cry whilst looking at those stupid fucking paw patrol tops and batman flashing shoes. Was it rational that I was screaming crying in hysterics whilst clutching a pink floral dungarees? Probably not to some, but I was grieving for the idea that I’d had in my head since day dot.

I couldn’t imagine baby fucking blue plastered everywhere, infact I told everyone NO BLUE!

GUESS WHAT? when that baby got here..I did not give a shit that he had a little winky, nor that he was gonna be swaddled in blue, because gender disappointment ends the moment that baby is put on your chest, I promise. So if you’re like me, and cry in next, and wanna punch anyone who says ‘boys are more loving’ that’s cool… It’ll pass.

P. S the fart jokes and cuddles don’t get old