Six years ago, I sat waiting for an ultrasound.
This was pregnancy number three for me and most likely my last. We’d talked about how many kids we wanted and it was either three close together in age or four, with two close together in age, then a gap of a few years, then two more close together in age. Since our other two would be just 3.5 and newly 2 when baby #3 would be born, we agreed that this would be it.
Although our plans might have hit a snag. Two weeks earlier, at my check-up, the doctor had commented that I was measuring bigger than expected and she said that though she couldn’t be sure, she thought it was possible she heard two babies’ heartbeats(she quickly said it could just be an echo when she saw my panic, but she didn’t sound convincing).
Fraternal twins do run in both sides of my family, so it wasn’t out of the question that I’d end up with twins.
And then I’d have four kids under four, instead of just three. The thought sent me into a bit of a hysterical panic, trying to figure out the logistics of that little curveball.
The doctor had offered to get me in for an ultrasound right away but she advised me that I’d have a better chance at seeing if I were having a boy or a girl if I waited just a little longer.
I thought about going in immediately, but I really wanted to know if baby number three would be a girl. So, we waited.
It’s not that we were trying for a girl. In fact, I pretty much wanted to kick anyone who asked if the only reason we kept having kids was that we were trying for a girl. We never were, we never even discussed how many boys or girls we wanted, just how many kids.
But still, this would be my last baby(or babies if there were twins) and if I were having another boy, I wanted to know. After having two little boys already, I knew I’d love having another. But still, I knew it was possible that I could have a girl and I needed to know before the baby was born.
I wanted that time to buy all things pink and purple if it was a girl and to take a few breaths to let those things go forever if I weren’t. To have the day my baby was born be completely filled with joy and not one single moment of sadness over not ever having a daughter.
When I sat and waited for that ultrasound, I thought about the possibility of twins. I prayed that if I were carrying twins, I’d have either two boys or two girls, not one of each. I worried that if I had a boy and a girl, the morons who liked to comment that I only got pregnant a third time to try for that girl would then say something along the lines of “You finally got your girl!!! Oh, and another boy.” As if the boys would automatically not be anything special because I already had two of those at home, but oh, that girl! Now, she’s something to celebrate.
I didn’t want to ever hear those thoughts. To have that boy ever hear or feel anything like that.
So I prayed that the babies would be the same sex. And I vowed that if I were only carrying one baby, the gender wouldn’t matter one bit.
When Hubs and I went into that ultrasound, the technician let us know that I was only carrying one. That my due date was off by about two months(that’s what happens when you have two babies around your house- you lose track of things like the date of your last period).
And then she moved that wand on my belly and there was no denying that I was having a boy.
As she continued to take measurements and make small talk that I’m glad Hubs kept up with, I didn’t say a word.
I took a few moments to let go of the idea of having a little girl in our family. Of a girl who might be like me in the ways that my boys were like my husband. Of having someone who would, while not evening the numbers in our home, at least make it so I wasn’t the only female. To accept that while I’d already been a boy mom for the past three years, I was always going to be one.
I looked at that baby on the screen and knew I’d love him. But I did need those few quiet moments to process not ever having a girl. That was why I wanted the ultrasound to find out instead of waiting for the surprise of delivery.
I didn’t want to have any of those thoughts when I held that baby in my arms on the day he was born. And I didn’t.
Still, I needed that moment, six years ago, to let go of the thought of having a daughter.
Last Week’s Pour Your Heart Out Highlights
- A Whole Lot of Vagina in this House From Not Wifezilla: Jackie wrote last week about being the mom to all girls. Oddly enough, we seem to hear a lot of the same comments.
- Letting Go of the Mommy Guilt When Your Child Gets Sick from Footprints in the Sand: So many questions when our kids are sick and we have to figure out what to do.
- Don’t Be that Girl, Little One. Just Don’t from Scruggbug Corner: There’s so much talk about bullying but usually it’s from parents whose kids are being bullied. Somewhere out there are the parents of the bullies- are they watching for the signs?
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