I'm the mother of three little girls.
Admittedly, one is tiny, but it's as though she has asserted herself since she was made known to us by ultrasound, my belly no longer caught in the stage where a stranger would wonder, but proudly, roundly, undeniably full.
Keep your sons to carry on your family name. I'll take hairbows and sisterhood and the duty of setting my iron-gray nursing-home curls divided three ways.
My heart is as full as my belly.