I was very young when I had my first son, and when I fell pregnant again, I found out early on it was another boy. Of course I knew I would still adore my baby, but I was a little sad as I had imagined having one of each. However, I lost all that stupid 'disappointment' when a close friend miscarried for the third time.
I was so disgusted with myself, here I was, concieving at the drop of a hat and having healthy children, and my beautiful friend couldn't even get to 8 weeks.
After getting over myself pretty darned quick I went on later to have two girls, which I thought would make my life full of pink and pretty dresses, hair bows, kittens and spa days....nope, they want to wear their big brothers baggy clothes, will only wear boxers, cannot abide dresses or anything girly, and play footie with their brothers and dad, while here I am, hating football still, dressing up one of my daughters dolls, who she has given a pencil moustache to, and named Bogey face as she also has a green nose.
True story.
Love your kid, not their sex. ;-) x