Another boy. I felt a little disappointed but somehow not surprised. It really shouldn’t have mattered to me either way, at least so others continually told me. After all, I already have one of each. But sometimes the heart longs for things that can’t be explained. Even though my daughter continues to be a challenge and everyone keeps assuring me that boys are easier as they get older (something my three year old has yet to prove). But after six years, the boxes of little girl’s clothes in my attic called my name.
It seemed as though almost everyone I know was having girls this time around. Not that it mattered, but it did make the news a bit more painful. There was nor shortage of girls. God just wasn’t sending any my way this time. This was likely to be our last pregnancy, and it hadn’t been easy so far. I wasn’t sure which was worse, my own disappointment or trying to comfort my six year old who had fervently prayed for a girl. A sister or a cousin would do. But neither are forthcoming. Instead at the end of September she will be the only girl with two brothers, and four boy cousins, three of whom live locally.
I told myself that I was fine and that I should be grateful, and I was. But there were some days of mourning where I felt like this was ruining everything. All my plans and hopes for my family. Of course I felt guilty for feeling this way which only make matters worse. But slowly I’m coming to terms with it. I’m starting to imagining myself with another baby boy. (I can’t yet picture myself as the mother of boys, plural. I think that will take more time).
The name choosing is feeling impossible. (Of course we had a ready girl name that we’ve had saved for almost four years). So for now I’m just giving myself permission to walk through the process. I’m taking out baby boy clothes and taking inventory (my son was a March baby, this one will be the end of September). I’ve even started purging and giving away little girl’s clothes for the first time. There have been moments of sadness, but also comfort about passing on some of my favorite items and joy at the thought of seeing a favorite dress float by in church or at the park.
I know that when he arrives I will be happy and hopefully by then he will have a name.
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