Girl Envy/Grief

I have a serious case of girl envy.

Disclaimer: I adore my boys. I do not in any way wish they had been girls. They are who they are and I love them. I would not trade them for girls.

But everyone I know in the last two years who has had or will be having a baby is having a girl. Sure, friend of friends are having boys, but in my circle, all girls. And that is hard to take. Take a trip back in time with me.

Long ago, as a teenager, surviving a less than my ideal childhood I swore off ever having children. Until, I met an adorable little angel child who changed my mind. She was three or four, strawberry blond and the sweetest child I had ever known. She was easy and loving and never once did anything wrong. I am completely serious. I adored her and got to spend several afternoons a week taking care of her. I decided maybe children were in my future after all.

So I began to plan my children. I would have a daughter and she would be like my little angel child. Sweet and quiet and helpful. I got my grandmother's china tea set with matching little hutch. I would be ready for tea parties and dress up and crafts. I saved my practice wedding dress (sewn out of sheets before I made the real thing) to be a costume when she got older.

I knew my first would be a girl. By sheer wishful thinking, that baby would be a girl. I needed a girl. I needed a wonderful mother/daughter relationship to make up for the one that is still lacking. The ultrasound tech said boy. I didn't believe her, they make mistakes all the time. Nonetheless, I cried on the way home. After two more ultrasounds, both with a proclamation of "boy," before I gave in and accepted I was having a boy.

The day came and my precious sweetP was born and I was in love. I had a boy and that was okay because the next baby would be a girl. We knew there would be at least two babies. I adored my baby boy and decided boys weren't so bad. To this day, I sometimes get teary-eyed when I see him asleep all peaceful and quiet with hints of the little boy that he is quickly outgrowing.

So the time came when we decided it was time to have another baby. This pregnancy was different. Morning sickness. Carrying the baby lower. Deep longing for a girl. All sure signs that this would be my baby girl. The ultrasound tech said she, but then pronounced we were having a boy. This time even I saw that it was a boy. No second guessing. We would have boys. We talked about all the ways that it would be easier. I sobbed the entire way home. This time, there was no guaranteed next time. We were discussing being done at two. There would most likely never be a girl.

The next day after working the entire morning to pull myself together. I thought I was better. But on the way to school, I saw two little girls with pigtails skipping down the side walk in cute flowery dresses. While simultaneously, a song about little girls came on the radio and I lost it again.

I felt guilty. Here I had another healthy baby on the way and a coworker had tried unsuccessfully for years to get pregnant. But every time someone asked about what I was having, the tears flowed. Much, much later, when I was no longer a hormonal mess, I realized that I was not sad I was having a boy. I was grieving the death of a dream. Ever since the moment I first decided to have children, I had envisioned a little girl with pig-tails and dresses. A mommy's girl.

I had that second baby boy. I loved him upon sight, once I finally got my hands on him. They gave him to Ducky first and he barely let me get a glimpse. My sweetE is still my cuddly boy. He will let me just hug on him as much as I want. I couldn't ask for more. He is darling and sweet and wonderful (and all little boy) and I love him to pieces.

But part of me still feels like something is missing. Every time another little baby girl makes an appearance, I am just a little bit sad that there was no little baby girl for me.