My husband and I were the traditional sort, perhaps you might say "retro", in that we did not want to know the sex of our baby before its birth. We wanted to be be surprised. Because of this, the friend throwing the baby shower bought two celebratory balloons for the party: one said "It's a Boy!" And one said "It's a Girl!" She wanted to have her bases covered. We brought them home after the party where they hung around the house together like guests who didn't know when to take their leave.
About a week later Margo was born. During the intervening time we continued to discuss baby names. We always knew that if it were a girl, she'd be named after Great Auntie Margaret in Ireland. But we absolutely could not agree on a boy's name. How amazing that she turned out to be a girl. We had the name all ready.
But our amazement had only just begun. When we arrived home from the hospital we discovered the "It's a Boy!" balloon lying on the floor, while the "It's a Girl!" balloon still floated high in the air, triumphant. Coincidence? Most likely. But it quickly became a part of the magical lore of our daughter's birth. A family story to be shared again and again.
And so today is her birthday. Standing in the checkout line at the Food Lion, I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to the right to see a star shaped Mylar balloon rising up off the floor, all by itself. On the balloon, the words, "It's a Girl!"
Coincidence? I think not. Humor me.