and so it seems ...

... I am to be the mother of daughters, parent to sisters.

I don't have sisters. Most of my closest girlfriends don't have sisters. I've never been a girly-girl. I don't especially like pink. I'm not big on sibling rivalry. I abhor Barbie.
And while I was never one for dreaming about my future children and planning how many I'd have and what their names would be etc, I always kinda assumed I'd have a son. I really did.

But very possibly I won't, and that's taking some getting my head round. It's not a tragedy by any means, I'm not wailing and gnashing my teeth and taking to my bed with disappointment (although some do I've been told, in fact just yesterday I met a woman whose sister-in-law was about to pop number 6 in her desperate quest to have a daughter - 5 boys and finally she was expecting her girl. Can you imagine that lady's angst, and the extreme likelihood of that long-awaited little girl growing up to be a bull dyke, 'cos why wouldn't the universe work like that?), but I'm taking a while for the news to sink in, I'm reconfiguring my mental picture of our family, I'm pondering raising sisters, girls, women.

And I'm finding there's a lot to be excited about in that. Imagine a girl child who is not Frieda - what a mind bend. Naturally a boy would've been different to her, but another girl, anatomically the same but a whole new personality? That's almost more challenging, and certainly quite exciting.

And while I've not had a sister, I almost did. My Mum lost a girl baby just after she was born, 2 years after me. Had she lived that would definitely have had an impact on the person I've become and I'm now being given the opportunity to experience sisterhood, albeit from a different perspective.

I've spent my life surrounded by incredible women, from my grandmothers, mother and aunts, to my parent's friends, to my own wonderful girl friends, a collection of fine, strong, formidable ladies, and I think I'm excited about spending the rest of my life with two more.