When I was first pregnant with my son I was SURE he was a girl. From the depths of my mama soul I just felt that I was having a second girl, and I was thrilled. I had her named (Isabella Delphine), I had her nursery colors planned (turquoise and hot pink), and I had dreams of being a mama of two little girls. I already had a daughter and knew that having a family of little girls was going to be my thing. How could it not? I am a girly girl through and through, and having one already I knew the fun of dressing her up and knowing the greatness of watching her grow.
I went to that ultrasound with this knowledge, I just needed confirmation. I lay on that table, my belly slathered in jelly and the sound of my baby’s heartbeat in my ear, that whoosh/whoosh/whoosh that resonates with you and makes you smile. The images flash on the screen, too blurry and fast to really be able to tell what you are looking at. Until it slows and you see a profile, or an arm bent towards their face. Precious glimpses. Ultrasounds are always so brief, technicians are often in a hurry to rush you through the door, wanting to get to the next patient to make their day go faster. Your baby is just another baby to them, there is no need to linger. Except this moment was ours, a day where our family was being shaped, where one sentence would change us.
It’s a boy.
I saw it, the image that showed so clearly that day, the picture that showed that the little girl I thought I was carrying was no more. You see, there’s this thing we have as humans, the need to be politically correct all the time. We’re not supposed to say what we are really thinking, we’re supposed to say what people want us to say. “I don’t care what I have as long as it’s healthy,” or, “I’ll be fine with whatever I have.” These phrases are true of course, we all want healthy babies, that’s the assumption. But what about the people that don’t feel this and end up feeling less somehow? I was disappointed to find out that I wasn’t having a girl as I had thought. For a couple of days I was annoyed. This wasn’t my vision! Where did my two little girls go, sisters forever? I grew up with a brother, but had no knowledge of how to raise one. I knew girls, therefore I was more comfortable having one. It took me a couple of days. I stewed a little. I felt cheated a bit and wondered what I was going to do with this boy coming my way.
Then I figured it out.
I saw the baby boy clothes that looked so adorable. I remembered how much my little brother had adored my mom, and smiled at the thought of having a little mama’s boy myself. I gradually made the switch in my head to having one of each, and knew how lucky I was. I became excited to become a mama to a little boy, to raise him into a thoughtful and kind man.
When my son was born he instantly became the newest love of my life. Different from his sister, but in all the best ways. He was calmer, he took to nursing right away and was always happy to be snuggled right against my side. He stole by heart the second I laid eyes on him and I forgot every bad feeling I had about him not being what I thought I wanted. He was better.
I’ve had the privilege to be his mama for four and a half years now, and every single day has been a gift. I’m honored to have him, honored to be the one he wants to hug the tightest, honored that he looks at me daily and tells me that I am “so beautiful.” He steals my heart every single day and I’m grateful that he is everything I didn’t know I needed. I think sometimes we are given things that are the best case scenario in our lives, we just don’t know it at the time. On that day five years ago, when I found out he was not what I thought, I was disappointed. I look back all the time and say thank you, thank you to whatever forces are out there that create the things we need the most. I wouldn’t trade him in for a zillion girls. He is the best addition to our family and to be able to say, “I have a son”, is something I treasure always.