One of my best friends is pregnant with her first baby.
When she told me after her 20-week ultrasound that it was going to be a girl, she seemed uncomfortable to share the news with me. I really couldn’t blame her; she knew how badly I had wanted a girl, and four boys later that ship has sailed for me.
While I am thrilled for her, (I really, really am) my heart hurts for myself.
Another friend that is having a daughter. Another person that gets to experience something that I will never know. Another reminder of the daughter I will never have.
In my fantasy life, I was going to have my boy first.
He would be the big brother, the protector for my little girl that was obviously going to come next, and exactly two years later, of course.
She was going to inherit my sense of humor and great hair and my husband’s stick-to-it-iveness and hazel eyes. We were going to go shopping together, have mani-pedis and spa days, and she was going to be my best friend.
Maybe we would grow apart a bit when she became a teenager because that happens sometimes with mothers and daughters, but we would grow close again after a few years.
I was going to wipe away her tears after her first broken heart and share with her my empathy and wisdom. I was going to remind her to love herself first, and always.
If she married and became a mother, I was going to be there for her when she needed me. I was going to rock her babies for her when she just needed a break, some sleep, and a shower to feel whole again.
I was going to give her gentle advice when she asked for it, and try not to when she didn’t because I know that nothing drives a new mother crazy quite like unsolicited advice.
When her children were teenagers and distancing themselves from her I was going to remind her that it was just a phase and that it wouldn’t last forever. I was going to stress that they would be close one day again, just like it happened with us.
I couldn’t wait to meet her, this future daughter of mine.
So when my first boy came and then the second; the third and then the fourth, I slowly realized that this much longed for daughter was never going to be.
Let me be clear, I love my boys. I love them with all of my heart. I can’t imagine my life without any one of them. They are sweet, rambunctious troublemakers and they love their mama in a way that I never imagined was possible.
They run and jump and play and scream and fight throughout the day, and then, as they tumble into their beds at night and after I’ve tucked them in, they call down the hall after me, hollering, “I love you, my precious-sweetheart-princess-Mommy!”
In these moments, I feel like my heart could burst in two from all of the love.
But since I have my boys, there is this expectation to never express anything but joy and thankfulness. And I AM thankful. But I am entitled to feel what I feel; we ALL are, without having to explain ourselves or apologize for it.
I do understand that there are those who would love to have a child, ANY child—that notion is not lost on me.
I also know that having a daughter wouldn’t guarantee me the loving mother-daughter relationship that I have envisioned, just like having boys doesn’t mean that I can’t have that same type of bond with them.
Regardless, I still need to express the feelings in my heart so I can move past it. I need to mourn, I need to grieve, I need to feel all the feels.
And in the meantime, I am going to buy the frilliest bows and most ridiculously girly tutus I can find for my friend’s daughter, and I am going to savor EVERY second of it.
Here are my beautiful boys. Aren’t they cute?
Are you a mom of all boys? Did you yearn for a daughter too? Let me know in the comments and please share this with your friends that can relate.