It was January and cold. Washington can get frigid too but New York had a bitter chill that made my entire body feel as if it was experiencing the effects of brain freeze. My body was also experiencing the effects of being 6 weeks pregnant. I was tired, nauseated and freezing but I was in New York.
After one of many great meals during our time in New York last year Gabe and I attempted to walk off our over indulgence and pass the time until our next meal. Both wanting to escape the cold and check out the unnecessary but oh-so-cool objects I spotted in the window, I pulled Gabe into a little shop in Brooklyn. And then that’s where I saw it.
A little tweed jacket made for her. Except I didn’t know she was a her. All I knew of my little Ivy at this point was that she was barely the size of pea yet causing me to feel horribly ill.
I stared at the jacket imagining how perfectly sweet my little *girl* would look in it. How her dimpled fingers would emerge from the brown felt lined sleeves and how the rust orange belt would cinch in her pudgy belly. I thought that her blond hair and blue eyes (ha) would pop against the natural tones of this little jacket.
Gabe popped my little pink toned dream bubble in the most loving way reminding me – gently- that the little pea inside of me might very well be a boy. Indeed he was right, she could be a he. So, empty handed we trudged out of that little shop leaving behind the jacket and my dimpled fingered dreams.
Gabe and I returned home to our sweet boys back in Washington bringing with us a Brooklyn sweatshirt for Roman and a book for Baron. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that jacket. “I could buy it then give it to someone else who will have a little girl.” I justified. Someone needed to have it.
Just a few days later I returned to New York with my good friend Julie. (It’s not very typical for me to end up in New York twice in one month it just so happens that Gabe had a photo shoot and then Julie and I were invited to be in the audience at Martha – and who could say no to Martha?!).
I told Julie about the little tweed coat and subtly suggested we make our way to that little corner of Brooklyn. We did. And there it was.
As I was just about to once again enter dream land imaging my little blond in her coat when my mom called. Of course I instantly started to gush over the coat. And as any mom should she told me to buy it and then she would pay me for it. We both agreed that someone is bound to have a little girl.
Fast forward almost exactly one year later.
I have my little girl and although she’s not the little blond haired, blue eyed girl I imagined my she would be, she’s mine and I love her to bits. And she looks absolutely adorable in her tweed coat – if I do say so myself.
Jacket from FrillBoutique.com