I just knew.
When I first began telling people that I was expecting, they would ask how far along I was and what I hoped it would be. And I always answered that I was 7 weeks or 12 weeks or 19 weeks and that I was having a boy. I'm sure many people thought I was being foolish, to be so sure of something that I had absolutely no control over.
But I just knew.
After our ultrasound confirmed what I already knew to be true, people would congratulate me on the good planning of two boys and two girls, as if I'd had a hand in that. And then they would inevitably say something to the effect of "Spence must be so excited! Too bad they'll be so far apart in age."
But I knew, with absolute assurety, that these two souls would be the most kindred of spirits and that the eight years between them would be nothing more than a reminder of what's behind one and what lies in the future for the other. They play together, they laugh together and Spence has become a fantastic little caretaker for the shadow on his heels. They are brothers, and the bond between them fills me up.
Just like I knew it would.