When I was pregnant with my first baby, I truly didn’t care whether I was having a boy or girl. I knew I wanted one boy and one girl, and I wouldn’t have any disappointment with either gender with my first baby. When I found out it was a boy at my 20-week ultrasound, I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to call everyone and tell them the good news! I loved being a mom to this little boy.
Not much later, people started asking when we were going to start “trying for a girl.” When I announced my second pregnancy, people asked if we were hoping for a girl. It seems that in our society, a perfect family needs to have at least one boy and one girl. It’s hard for me to admit that I completely bought in to that thinking, too.
Baby Number Two
Three years after my first baby’s birth, I went to my 20 week ultrasound pregnancy with my second baby. I had lots of dreams and feelings that this baby would be a girl. I just knew the ultrasound technician would tell me that I was having a girl. We went in to the dark room, and I loved seeing all the little parts on the monitor. The time came for us to find out if this baby was a boy or girl. With a big smile, I said, “YES! We really want to know!”
Then she said the words I wasn’t expecting to hear: “You’re having a BOY!!”
My reaction wasn’t quite what I had expected. I started crying–like really sobbing crying. When the technician asked if I was okay, I just lied and said, “Yes! I am just so happy!”
I mean, what kind of mother cries tears of disappointment at her baby’s ultrasound??
My Disappointment and Meltdown
My husband and I returned to our car in the parking lot, and I totally lost it. I was crying for many reasons. First, I knew we’d likely only have two children, and finality of not having a daughter overwhelmed me. I wouldn’t have anyone to dress up in cute clothes, to do crafts with, or to take to softball practice. No hair bows, glitter, or dance shoes.
What made me even more emotional was the fact that I was actually disappointed. I was angry at myself for being ungrateful. The technician just told me that the baby looked really healthy and everything was perfect. Shouldn’t I be thankful and happy? Why wasn’t I enjoying this blessing of a healthy baby boy? I truly felt like the world’s worst mother. I thought of those women who were sad because they learned their baby wasn’t healthy, or even worse. I had no reason to be sad.
Later that night as I was telling my family that it was another boy (and still an emotional wreck), my father reminded me that I was indeed just like my grandmother. She was a mother of two boys, and I’ve always associated myself with her as I’ve grown into a mother and adult myself. Once I learned that I really was following in her footsteps, I found some peace with being a boymom. I talked to other boymoms and learned that there was a sort or secret society that I was earning a place in. They told me stories of their mama’s boys, being queen of the house, and how to overcome fart jokes. I quickly found my love for being a boymom and can’t imagine my life without my youngest son.
Here’s my disclaimer: Please know that even though I have two boys, they still do crafts with me on occasion, and I definitely do some “girly” things with them. And, I found a way to get my girl fix whenever I need it: loving on my nieces and goddaughters!