Sometimes I read a blog called "The Happiest Mom" (Love the title!!) and I came across this post today. Here's my response, and I felt moved enough to repost here. A lot of what I have gotten out of being a mom was healing; letting go of old pains to pick up and keep moving. Festering is not on the schedule when you have naps and ballet class and playgrounds to explore. I am so thankful for that gift from my girls.
I only wanted boys. My husband only wanted girls. We picked out names for both, found out the gender, and announced the name and gender to everyone we knew. It was exciting. We got two girls. I still want a boy, but I don’t think I’ll get one, unless I can convince my husband to adopt (I do not want to be pregnant ever again, but I would be happy to have more children in my life. I also bring in lost dogs, used to be a sucker for the “free kitten” posters, before allergies took over our house, and so now we have a tortoise. And the last cat we’ll ever get. I collect living things, as my best friend once said. And I do, so I was happy and blessed to with my two beautiful, healthy girls. I won’t ever complain. And I even told people, “I’m happy with boys or girls, as long as they are healthy.” (But what if then, they’re not? Does that make us unhappy? Sometimes, but often it just teaches us a new way to love.)
When I was pregnant the second time, 5 1/2 months, my brother-in-law passed away suddenly in his sleep. We are a close family, and we had just learned my other brother-in-law had leukemia. We are a strong bunch, but a tragedy like that will challenge your will in a way you NEVER expected. We hurt; when we gathered in my mother-in-law’s living room with visitors and family and friends it felt like a big giant ball of pain you could see and touch and drown in; and it was scary. A few things could pull us out of the pain– the joy of my first-born, the love of Wade’s life… He had no children, and his dog and his new niece were his pride and joy. The family’s pride and joy. A reminder that there was something besides suffering and sadness. She had an unbelievable sense of compassion at such a young age, and that is her special gift. We needed that. If she were a boy, I don’t know if she’d have been like that.
But the little baby I was carrying– I wanted so badly to see her come out and be a little Wade, curls of red hair and mischief in her eye, kindness in her face, and the strength of a Rogers. But she was a girl, and couldn’t carry on his name, his character… she could not replace him, and that was hard for me, but it of course was not possible. This wasn’t a case where the goldfish dies and you sneak a new one in to ease the tears. But this next generation has helped a family who needed to see some sunshine after a dark and troubling time.
She might not have been a boy, but that’s okay. She has his intelligence, his sparkle, and his family. We’ll teach them to carry on his memory, and it’ll be fine. Things never turn out the way you expect, anyway. Boys or girls.
