It's strange as I sit here to write my thoughts....
It's been over 26 years since I took and saw my first positive pregnancy test. You would think I would have strong memories of that moment and the feelings that I had surrounding it, but honestly, I don't even remember. I don't remember telling my husband, I just don't remember it.
I know I was happy because having a bunch of babies is really all I ever wanted in life. I wanted to be a mom, and I wanted to be a good mom. Not a mom that didn't want to be around her kids but one who went on the school field trips and class parties, one who baked cookies, planned birthday parties and made all of the holidays extra special. I wanted to be the kind of mom that my kids wanted to come back home to when they were all grown up.
In spite of not being able to remember the pregnancy test moment, one thing I do remember is how much I wanted to have a baby girl.
Cute tiny pink clothes, ruffle dresses, baby dolls, princesses and dance classes, all the mom and daughter things that I didn't do with my mom but wished I had.
I could see her... first she was a chubby pink baby with itsy bitsy piggie tails and tiny bows. She looked like me.
She grew and dressed up in princess clothes, put on too much make up and jewelry and played house with her dolls. We went to dance class and I would buy leotards with tutus and have bags embroidered with her name on them.
Cheerleader uniforms, homecoming dances, and wedding dress shopping played through my mind. Watching her walk down the aisle with her dad. I could see it all.
The moment arrived to find out the gender by ultrasound. Back in 1999 you had to wait a whole 20 weeks into your pregnancy to know. I could hardly wait.
We watched a black and white screen in anticipation.
The doctor said, "It's a boy!"
Tears immediately filled my eyes. I blinked them back hard. I couldn't let anyone know that a healthy baby boy stung. What kind of mother would they think I was?
Although I was married, I was a young mother, I didn't need any other judgement stacked against me.
It was a quick transition to happiness though, because certainly this wouldn't be my last baby, and what dad doesn't want a son? How sweet would it be to have a little girl who had an older brother to protect her?
My first son was born, April 21, 2000 on Good Friday. He was perfection.
My oldest was a little less than 2 years old when we found out we were expecting baby #2.
I had gone to the doctor because we really wanted to have another baby but my cycles were so irregular I didn't know what to do. She did a pregnancy test and it was positive! I was due on Thanksgiving Day.
Immediately the thoughts returned of my little girl. I'd walk through Target and see the tiny little dresses and bows and dream of my baby girl.
Ultrasound time came and again, "It's a boy!" echoed through the room.
I think I was a bit less shocked this time and while I was disappointed to not have my baby girl, having 2 older brothers to love and protect her and boys who could be best friends softened the blow.
My second son was born on December 1, 2002, 3 days after his due date. He had the blackest eyes and hair. He was like a little cub and I was immediately in love.
We moved into a new house in November of 2004. We had 4 bedrooms and double the space we'd had in our previous home.
It was time for baby #3.
I KNEW this time it would be a girl. I mean, what are the odds of having 3 of the same gender children? I didn't know at the time—I've since learned it's only about a 12.5% chance to have three sons in a row.
This time I already had 2 little boys and they were busy little guys. My house was filled with trains and hot wheels and legos and blocks. We had tool sets and trikes with big wheels and I understood what it meant to be a boy mom. It was loud, there was lots of activity and dirt and at the same time they were so sweet.
I loved my boys but my little girl was out there waiting to be born.
Ultrasound time... "It's a boy! Oh my goodness, you're going to have your hands full!"
This time I couldn't hold back the tears.
I knew I wanted lots of babies, but my husband only originally wanted to have 2 and this was baby #3. Baby #3 was ANOTHER boy. What if this is the last baby I ever have?
My mind was racing.
I felt so guilty crying over having another boy, being disappointed. What was wrong with me? There are people who can't have babies at all and here I am with 3 healthy boys and I'm crying over it. I felt awful.
I think over the next few weeks the news set in and I started to mourn the loss of the daughter that I would probably never have. It was like a person that I loved so much had died, but she had never even lived, or at least she hadn't lived for anyone else. She was alive in my mind and in my heart. Nobody could understand.
I'd see a little girl at the park and it hurt.
A friend was pregnant at the same time and of course, her baby was a girl. She didn't even want a second baby, so why did she get what I wanted so much?
I went to her baby shower and brought diapers instead of baby girl clothes because I couldn't stand to buy them for her.
I was jealous. I was hurt and I was grieving my daughter.
I cried in private.
I didn't even want my husband to know how I felt. I didn't want anyone judging me. In my mind I thought it was probably a normal feeling to have but how could I let anyone know that I felt this way?
What if my boys grew up and found out that I was disappointed and sad when I found out they were boys? I couldn't ever let them know. I'd never want them to feel that they were not wanted or less than.
They were perfect boys, I just wanted a girl too!
My third son was due on New Year's Eve, but born on January 3, 2006, our 8th wedding anniversary, my mom's birthday and my great grandmother's birthday. He had the chubbiest cheeks and thighs and the bluest eyes and I loved him so much I thought my heart might burst.
Time went by and I still really wanted more babies. We decided we should have one more.
Maybe this time it would be a girl... but what if it's not?
We started to try and then found out that my sister had miscarried her first pregnancy. Somehow I felt it would be mean or insensitive or just hard if I had a 4th baby when she had lost her first, so we waited to start trying again until after she announced and was out of the "danger zone" with her next pregnancy.
Months and months went by... it was a year and no pregnancy.
I was so discouraged.
Somehow the thought of having a daughter didn't matter so much anymore, I just wanted a baby more than anything.
One day my sister called and told me she'd dreamt that I was pregnant. I hadn't told anyone that we were trying to have another baby - I was afraid people would judge us for having 4 and I didn't want to deal with any comments.
I took a test, I was pregnant!
We were so happy and so surprised.
A couple weeks later we were surprised again when we lost our baby.
A few months passed and my doctor agreed it was ok to try again and prescribed clomiphene to induce ovulation since we'd struggled to get pregnant for so long.
It worked!
A couple of months later I was pregnant with baby #4.
It was such a different experience compared to the others. I just KNEW this baby would be a boy and I was ready for it.
I can't say it still didn't sting when people would see me with 3 little boys and my big pregnant belly and ask if I was hoping for a girl. They didn't know how much I'd wanted a daughter.
While I'd resigned myself that this little baby would be a boy, the mention of the possibility that it could be a girl just introduced a glimmer of hope and pain all in one.
By 2010 finding out the gender could happen a bit sooner and they even had a really good idea sooner than that. Around the 12 week mark the ultrasound tech told me while it wasn't official, she thought our baby would be a boy.
We found out around week 17 that she was right.
I didn't cry this time - I already knew.
Deep in my heart I knew this baby would be a boy and I knew I would never have a girl and somehow it was going to be ok.
My fourth son was born on October 27, 2010. He came into the world fast and loud with a full head of red hair.
Before I had even really seen him the nurse said, "Oh! SHE has the prettiest red hair!"
My immediate response, "Thank you! Oh wait, did you say SHE?"
A sudden moment of panic and confusion and then, "Oh, I'm sorry, it's a boy!"
I couldn't believe that the nurse really said that and to me of all people - a mom of 3 sons, expecting son #4 and then hearing "SHE" in the delivery room!
The funny thing was, it wasn't excitement that I felt when I heard "SHE", I was so relieved when she corrected herself.
It's funny how everything works out.
Now having been a mom of 4 boys, I couldn't imagine life any other way.
There are still moments that I see a dad with a little girl and wish I'd been able to experience that with my husband or see a frilly dress and wish I'd had someone to buy it for.
Now I'm starting to see kids getting married and I think about the wedding planning I won't get to be part of or watching my daughter have a baby.
Sometimes I still wish I could have those experiences in life.
My boys have been more than enough.
They bring their own kind of magic.
Watching them grow and interact as a group of brothers has been so much fun.
My house has been loud and messy, my grocery bill has been never ending but somehow my pantry is empty.
Balls have been thrown in the house and on fields all over the country.
Bones have been broken and hearts have been mended.
My boys are the pride and joy of my life and I wouldn't trade this life for anything.
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I've shared mine.
Now I pass it to you.
peace is in you