If I chose to have you,
I felt you'd be a girl.
You would wear tiny dresses
to cover your fat diapers.
Puffy Christmas dresses
for your first picture with Santa.
Little bows in your hair.
And my family,
God they would love you so much.
They'd buy you little dresses
that you'd scrape in the dirt
as you learned to walk.
Little yellow dresses
for your first day of school.
A tiny wedding dress
when your grandfather gave
you your first communion.
There would be miniature shoes
scattered all over the house.
Grandma would braid your hair,
and you'd have your father's eyes.
And we would have all loved you so much.
I realized late one night.