How I dealt with gender disappointment during pregnancy when finding out I was having a boy… and how much I love being a mom to boys now.
We were convinced it was a girl. We wanted a girl. We even had chosen a girl’s name while we were still engaged.
So when the sonographer told us “it’s a boy” it came as a big surprise.
But the bigger surprise was how much disappointment came with hearing those three little words.
I was shocked by it in fact.
I genuinely thought I’d be happy either way.
But I wasn’t. I was sad.
(Ok, I was actually happy and sad – you get it, right?)
My husband squeezed my hand. Though I may have been hiding it from everyone else, he could read the look on my face. And he probably knew me better than I even knew myself.
It wasn’t just that the news caught us by surprise; the deeper issue was that I was ashamed at my sadness.
The guilt of it came immediately crushing down.
I was desperate that my baby would feel no sense of rejection over his life from us, even stemming from his time in the womb, and so the fact that I dealt with these emotions made me feel like a failure before he was even in my arms.
But over the next few days the news began to sink in.
I’m having a boy.
I always wanted a boy. It’s just that I always imagined having a girl first.
I had looked forward to tea parties, playing dress-up, dollies, and shopping excursions – all the things my little girl self enjoyed, and all the things I imagined my grown-up self to love all over again with a little in tow.
But as that boy news sunk in – as I gave up my ideas of little cardigans and leg warmers and cute mary jane’s – I began to get excited about having a boy.
So excited that by the time he was born having a girl was the farthest thing from my radar.
And so excited, even, that when we found out our second pregnancy was also a boy, I was over-the-moon about being a mom to brothers!
Now that I have two boys on the outside I’m realizing more and more what a privilege it is to be a mom to boys.
This world is in desperate need of more “good men”. We’ve heard it a thousand times… and it’s true.
I have the privilege—the responsibility—to now raise good men.
And as much as I’d still love a girl to call our own, I’m also now so aware of the part I can play in history by raising wonderful boys… to be men.
I like it.
No, I love it.
I can’t imagine it any other way than to be a boy mom.
And for the record, I still get to have tea parties and play dress up sometimes. Yay.
Pssst… Someone turned two on Sunday. We had a beautiful family day together (just us and a couple special aunties). He got a big box full of cowboy gear from Gigi and Grampy in America… and a new train set. (Such a boy!) His kid party was today (can you guess?? cowboy theme!), but more on that one later this week.
Dear friends, did you experience gender disappointment with your babies? Did it make you feel guilty or ashamed? How did you get over it?