I have 3 healthy, beautiful, boys that I love with all my heart. The world of sports, rough-housing, and superheros, was not something I saw coming. I always imagined my life filled with dance classes, ribbons, and pink, but life had other plans for me. My daughter would have been spoiled beyond belief and we would have done everything together…if she existed.
I think most little girls imagine having a daughter at some point, it’s probably in our biology. Maybe because we idolize our mothers, and want to recreate that special bond. The relationship I have with my mother is something I cherish and wouldn’t trade for anything. She’s my best friend, my confidante, and of course I would want to make that for myself. That’s not to say I don’t share a special bond with my boys, but a mother/son relationship is different, at some point a woman will come into their life and replace me in most ways (and that’s the way it should be, I want them to grow up and be independent). It’s already happening really, they want to do more and more with their Dad or their friends and less and less to hang out with me. They are far more into sports and hunting than baking and crafting with me. That might be a stereotype but that’s the reality in this house.
Every pregnancy I had I was convinced in the beginning would be my daughter, until the doctor told me otherwise (and truly I held out hope they might be wrong). It’s a source of guilt for me, because my boys are here and it’s feels like a betrayal to want anything more. Don’t get me wrong I don’t have a desire to have more children, my life is full and I am already spread too thin as it is, I’m ready to move on from babies, but I still want that girl. It’s a selfish want when I already have so much, but it’s there. I am embarrassed to admit I cried finding out my last baby was another boy, I was crushed with inconsolable grief knowing I’d never have a daughter. I knew it was wrong to grieve a healthy pregnancy (and while other’s were dealing with real loss of a child). but I still felt it.
When my third child was born. he was very sick and almost didn’t make it, and I secretly blamed my selfishness for his infection. I was convinced my wishing he were a she was the reason we were being punished by God and he would be taken from us. I spent a week praying and bargaining with God at Collin’s bedside, trying to take back the tears I’d shed in the ultrasound room so many months before. I swore I’d never resent not having a daughter again. It was a lie.
Every little girl playing at the park, every dress hanging in a store front, every shade of pink reminds me I’m a boymom. I’m never going to a ballet class, and I won’t be painting any pink rooms. I will however spend the entire winter in a hockey rink, and I will have a load of blue laundry. So while I do feel the loss of something that never was, I also get to experience something completely new, and I am constantly learning new things about myself from my boys. I would have never known the entire back story to every superhero, or learned the many, many, rules of hockey, or known half as many things about pokemon. My boys bring out something completely unexpected in me, and you know what? I like being a boymom, no matter how crazy it gets.
Have you ever experienced the loss of a child that never existed? Share your experience in the comments.