Read a comment in the paper today that really upset me. It was that a woman, who works as a stylist, had a self described mini-breakdown after finding out her baby is a boy and not the girl she wanted to dress up as a 'mini-me'. It set my blood boiling and made me want to break down in tears all at once. It's completely insulting to the vast majority of people who honestly don't care what the sex of their child is, who go into their ultrasounds saying 'I just want a healthy baby'. But then, to those of us who have lost a child, it's cruel. None of us would give a toss if we were raising a boy or a girl. A lot of us would even forgo 'so long as it's healthy' and happily take on raising a child with a disability of some kind just to have our baby back in our arms. All of us would give anything just to have one more moment, one more cuddle with our beautiful child who is gone. We will never be the same again. For those of us who have subsequent pregnancies, we will never be pregnant and assume it means we are having a baby. We will never go into an ultrasound with nothing but excitement about seeing our baby. We will always live with the knowledge that our children have a brother or sister who is locked in time, for ever our little baby. Never the child, the young adult, the person they might once have been. Do we care what genetalia that child had? Not for a second. And for those of us who go on to have other children? The question 'what are you having' has the resounding answer of 'A BABY'. The stupid woman and her mini-breakdown should have just gone out and bought a doll instead of subjecting a child to being raised with such a shallow and egotistical person. I mean, my god, you poor thing with all your problems. Your child has a penis and you won't be dressing it in outfits that match your own. Grow up. You make me sick.