When I was pregnant with Harper I had a dream early on that I was having a baby girl, at 18 weeks we found out he was indeed a boy. While pregnant with Willem I had one single dream about the baby in me and in my dream it was a girl, again it was a boy as we found out at his birth. Waiting for our ultrasound this time felt like torture, I counted weeks, days and I welcomed any dream about this baby figuring whatever I dreamt would again be the opposite of who this baby was but no such dream came.
The days up to the scan I did not feel drawn either way towards a boy or girl. I felt excited over the possibility of another boy for many reasons: I adore the boys I have, they adore me, I felt another boy would fit in well with our life, my boys wanted a brother, boys really are easier to me because I know them already, I find changing girl diapers more difficult, I could reuse many of the adorable boy clothes that I did keep, I don’t like pink, I had a couple boy names that I LOVED (and no girl names that I was overly excited about) and mostly it seems that the coolest moms out there have only boys- Gwen Stefanie, Julie Bowen (from Modern Family, the most relatable TV mom ever) and a mom here I know personally that I look up to (Danielle) has the 3 cutest sons that made me excited over possibly having a third and joining the club of cool moms.
I wanted a girl too though: I wanted that mother/daughter bond (that usually comes later in life), I wanted to buy adorable tights and wade through the sea of headbands, I wanted someone on my side, girls names do sound prettier, I wanted the experience of having and raising a girl would be like and lastly I felt like most everyone around me wanted me to have a girl because I already had boys and disappointment would be felt especially because for some weird reason females seem to celebrate girls more.
Going into our scan, the first thing the tech looked at was between babies legs. I held my breath while the picture cleared and there it was. An obvious spade, another boy. No mistaking it.
I smiled but I’m not sure if it was forced or not. I was relieved to finally know and I was relieved that I knew what I was in for but I was a little sad that I felt like I knew the rest of the story. While preparing to be happy and looking at the good sides of both outcomes I forgot that I’d be sad either way as well.
I absolutely despise the idea of gender disappointment, I don’t judge those who experience it and I understand where it comes from but I do not set expectations that would set myself up for disappointment. Maybe in knowing that God knows what he is doing makes what is given to me so acceptable. No matter which way I view it I was never disappointed in having another boy. This doesn’t mean that I didn’t experience some form of mourning the experience of never having a daughter.
I did mourn the loss of browsing through headbands and tights, sad that I will be spending more money of food (boys really do eat a ton) than I would be clothes and both Chad and I regret that we will never know what a girl with our genes would look like. Some evenings when I have one son talking about penises and another telling me about power tools I do feel gender isolation but it is fleeting. To this day though I have actually felt no loss of a mother-daughter relationship but instead fully embraced the “mother of boys” title although my mind sometimes says “mother of dragons” instead.
Last week I finally had a dream about this baby. I can not bring up the picture my mind gave me of this boys face but I can still feel that overwhelming love and adoration and thinking that even despite my mothers eye he was the most gorgeous baby. Since that dream not only has my sadness over the lack of mini mary jane shoes disappeared but it has been replaced with a pure joy and love over a boy and gratefulness that this is my calling.
(Adding to the end only because I tend to be curious in other peoples situations, that no, we will not try for a girl. Neither of us has any real desire for a girl or another baby.)