From the moment we announced I was pregnant with our third baby it started. The comments. From anyone and everyone. Strangers who saw me at the store, good friends, family. “Oh! I hope it’s a girl. You want a girl, right?” “Trying for a girl were you?” “that better be a girl.”
Sure, a girl would be lovely. Different but lovely. A little scary, since I myself was no picnic as a kid and teen, but yes, I confess I dreamt of little shoes and dresses and such. But I’ve found that when I would smile and say the trite but true “seriously we just want healthy” people would nod knowingly and smile and couldn’t resist a “Of course! Still, a girl would be nice right?”
Only one person said “Three boys sounds like heaven to me.” and I held on to that because it sounds heavenly to me too. Three healthy babies xx or xy sounds heavenly to me. Sounds like something I know so many people would give anything to have.
I started to feel a lot of pressure, as if I would disappoint these people, these strangers in the store if I should fail to produce a female child. Everyone seemed singularly focused on a girl baby. This had to be a girl baby. It just had too. How would I face people, friends, family and random people about town with three boys? I was starting to believe I would almost feel embarrassed by it and that’s not what I want. Would we be moving on “gonna try one more time?” Because the answer is no. Boy or girl this is it. My children are my world and my world is large enough, thank you. Still it seemed like I would disappoint everyone. Finally I just started being honest. “You know I’m feeling like everyone is going to be disappointed if this is a boy!” People would laugh nervously and reassure me they wouldn’t be, but still followed up with one more “but the little ruffles!” or something of the like. As we grew closer to finding out my anxiety grew. With the ultrasound scheduled for the 24th I was surprised when the nurse from my OB called with results from my blood test from the previous visit. Everything was fine, right? She assured me it was but that with the broad spectrum blood test they had a 99.5% accurate gender prediction and did I want to know?
I did. Of course I did.
It felt a bit as if time slowed down, I sat in the rocking chair and prepared myself, either way I would be happy but I knew if it was a boy I’d better prepare some snappy come backs, because if it was another boy I would want him to know I was never disappointed. Three boys does sound like heaven. Loud, messy heaven.
I made her tell me three times, not believing her. “I have two boys so I just want to make sure I really hear it.” She was so patient and happy for me. She laughed with me as I tried to process, something I am still doing. What I didn’t share with her is that I felt a little relief when she said “it’s a girl!” Relief that people wouldn’t be disappointed. Relief that I wouldn’t have to constantly tell people I was happy to have three little boys. I find that as I allow myself to get excited about a daughter I also find myself mourning a little bit for the little boy I was prepared to defend simply for being. My two boys are such good friends I know a third would have just added to the fun. But they are so excited for a little sister, it’s what my oldest has been requesting since his brother was 6 months old. I’m starting to really look forward to the girl stuff..whatever she decides that entails. And my boys are excited too.
But I’m going to be double and triple checking on that ultrasound on the 24th.