Confession: When I was pregnant with Goober, I was secretly scared that I would have an ugly baby/child. This was ridiculous for many reasons, including:
- Looks shouldn’t be that important. It’s what is inside that counts.
- Neither my husband or I were ugly children, especially once you removed my poor wardrobe/eyeglass/hairstyle choices.
- Who cares, as long as he’s healthy?!
But as we all know, you cannot reason with a pregnant lady. At least, you can’t reason with me when I’m pregnant. I had thoughts such as, “If he’s ugly, kids will make fun of him!” “If he’s ugly, will I love him as much as I would an attractive child??” Obviously I was very sane.
I continued to be haunted by this possibility all the way up to the hospital. All the crazy (at least, in this category) fell away once some minor complications arose and the above Reason You’re Ridiculous #3 took over. After his birth, and I had the epitome of perfection in my arms, I never gave a second thought to such a silly fear. This wasn’t because of his beauty, but because my love for that baby pushed away any thoughts that he could be anything less than wonderful, no matter what he looked like.
None the less, I’m pretty sure I don’t have an ugly baby.