(posted this for someone in gender disappointment. Hope it's appreciated here as well.)
--
Eight years ago I was pregnant with my first child. My husband at
the time was a tyrant. He had a mental disorder and was both
physically and emotionally abusive. I knew I would leave him.
Realizing I'd be on my own with this child, I only wanted a daughter.
I did NOT want to raise a son on my own. Heck, I didn't want to raise
a son at ALL. Most all of my experiences with men were negative and I
held females in a completely different light.
When the sonogram
showed male genitals I cried and I told the tech she was mistaken,
although I knew there was no mistaking it. I sobbed. I cried for
days. I freaked out, I panicked. What the heck was I going to do with
a BOY?? I wanted him out of me, I wanted him gone. The very knowledge
that there was a penis in my belly made me literally sick. I struggled
with the rest of the pregnancy trying to find love for him. I failed
at that. All I knew was that he was an icky boy and I did NOT want a
boy.
My labor was intense and horribly painful. I remember
resenting him for bringing me pain. I remember not wanting to see
him. But the doctor put him on my belly anyway. And the rest I can
only remember as euphoria. He was beautiful and most of all he was
innocent. I held him in my arms knowing I was holding an innocent
child. A child who did not ask to be born, but was born anyway. I
still worried about raising a son on my own, but somehow I knew we'd be
okay. I felt incredibly ashamed to have gone my pregnancy hating the
child I now adored. It's been a secret I've kept since.
I
left my husband when my son was 3 weeks old. We made it just fine.
Better than fine. I called my son my "cure". He made everything
alright. He may have been (and may still be) a momma's boy, but if
that's the label you want to put on an indescribable bond between a
mother and her son I'll gladly take it. My son and I have an unspoken
bond. Something that is unlike any I've ever known. Something I'd
never give up for all the money in the world. Even eight years later
he is my entire world. This child I resented so much and I did not
want proved to be the one human being who could lift me up like no
other. As a young child he "cured" me. He saw me through deep
depression, trials of single-parenthood, and much instability with
nothing but incredible support and love. He is my best friend.
I'm
now remarried. My husband is a very good man (they DO exihst I found
out!!). He has three girls from a previous marriage. Of course, his
girls are his world and he thinks they are the perfect gender. The
biggest argument we've had is when he insinuated that girls were better
than boys. I freaked out on him. I had this primal rage in me that I
never knew I had. Because nobody, NOBODY(!) can tell me that a stinky
girl is better than a boy. Not anymore anyway.
I found out
yesterday that my second pregnancy is a girl. And while that thrills
me knowing I'll get to experience raising a daughter, my mind still
drifts back to my son and our special relationship. Not but an hour
ago I was driving in the car with tears in my eyes thinking of my
little boy and all we've been through. My daughter-to-be has big shoes
to fill.
If you had told me 8 years ago that I'd feel this way
for a boy I'd tell you that you were out of your mind. Now you
couldn't pay me enough to go back in time and change the gender of that
baby. HE was exactly what I wanted. I just didn't know it at the time.
Thats my story. I hope it helps you or someone.
