For years I wore the label of being a “girl mom” with great pride. I had my daughters, Eden and Selah, two years apart, and tea parties and princess dresses overtook my life. But that was how I liked it. After all, I was a girl. Being a “girl mom” felt natural.

Everyone in my family agreed. Though my husband was a “manly man” (a firefighter, outdoorsman and weightlifter) he loved being a “girl dad.” Both pregnancies he predicted it would be a girl and was thrilled when he was right. Every little girl needs a protector and a Prince Charming, and he filled that role with zeal.

My dad (my girls’ “Pop”) may have been the most outspoken about his love for girls. It was all he knew. He and my mom had two daughters, and when my sister had a little girl, they became the proud grandparents of three granddaughters! With one wife, two daughters and three granddaughters, Pop was happily outnumbered — just the way he liked it. He loved referring to the six of us as “his girls,” and taking care of us was his purpose.

I spent many years learning and reading and praying about how to be a good “girl mom.” Girls are complicated and there is much to learn, but I was up for the task! Even my job with a nonprofit underscored my passion, as I hosted teen girls’ programs each summer.

But just over a year ago, life threw us a curve ball as it is known to do. A surprise pregnancy put me and my family in a tiny ultrasound room glued to a black and white screen. We’d been through this together many times and were accustomed to what we’d see, and what we wouldn’t.

“Uh oh!” My dad’s voice reverberated through the room. “I think I see something!” That “something” was just what he thought. We were having a BOY! Oh boy!

To be honest, none of us knew a thing about catching curve balls. We were all more comfortable fixing hair and playing dolls. But what an exciting game of life this was turning out to be!

Our nervous excitement built over the next few months. My husband and I picked out the perfect boy name, I decorated my first boy nursery, my mom enjoyed buying boy outfits and even my dad bought Harley Davidson onesies for his little biker bud.

Still, as excited as I was, I remember thinking, “if ‘he’ turned out to be a ‘she,’ I might breathe a sigh of relief!”

But on July 5 when our little Ezra burst into the world. He was exactly what we needed: a handsome, perfect addition to our family and baby brother for our girls.

Everyone is giddy over this first boy of ours. His daddy dotes just as much as with his girls, and his Pop declares constantly he’s “the handsomest boy I ever saw!”

For me it’s been quite the adventure already. From having to shield myself during diaper changes to draining the water mid-bath due to a shooting fountain, I am slowly catching on.

Of course, the more daunting tasks lie ahead — not worrying to death through sports and injuries, convincing him not to eat worms and mud and keeping his clothes clean. And let’s not even talk about puberty and dating because though I’ve given it much thought for my girls; I feel wholly unprepared for a teenage boy.

But I’m willing to learn because this boy of mine is more special than I ever dreamed. He is the sweetest, floppiest, cuddliest baby I’ve ever seen. He sleeps all night and smiles all day. He is mama’s boy, and I’m so thankful God gave me a new label and made me his mom.