Fourth boy

I had big plans on Friday...walk into my doctor's appointment, find out that the baby is a girl (I was thoroughly convinced) and head to the mall to buy her first dress. I couldn't wait! That all changed when the technician broke the news that this baby is yet another boy. And so instead I cried. And cried. And am still crying over thoughts that I will never know what it's like to watch my daughter in a dance recital, or shop with her for prom dresses or help throw her baby shower. But what bothers me the most is not missing out on events such as those. It's the mother-daughter relationship that I will never have that I am anguishing over. I have dreamed of that for what seems like forever.

I have many emotions that I'm trying to work through and next in line after sadness is tremendous guilt. The technicians and doctors also came to the conclusion with all of their measurements and observations that all signs point to a healthy baby. There are so many people in the world that cannot even have one child and I've been blessed with four. Or there are others who have multiple children with major birth defects and spend much of their life in and out of hospitals. I have no right to complain and I feel awful for having the feelings that I do. Yet I cannot deny how I feel.

I will never be the mother of a bride. I mentioned this to John and he said, "Think of how I feel...I'll never walk anyone down the aisle." That thought never occurred to me and so I feel more guilt. John wanted a girl very badly as well. And he told me he really has nobody to even talk to about feeling this loss. His friends are pushing 40 and unmarried with the exception of one or two who have unique experiences all their own and he doesn't want to talk to me about it because I'm such a mess. I feel awful for him.

At the restaurant last night I waited on a family of four with one girl and one boy. As I was pouring water in to the glass of the girl, who was about 9 years old, no ice cubes happened to fall into her glass. Her mother turned to her and said, "You really wanted ice in your water, didn't you?" And she said in the most dramatic fashion, "It's really hard to drink water without ice." And in my annoyance of having to go get a different polished glass and pour her some new water making sure there was plenty of ice in it I had an epiphany that maybe I wasn't cut out to mother a girl. Boys don't care about ice. They are so much more laid back and I love that. Maybe there's only room in this house for one princess and that's me. I actually started to feel better about things until moments later when I looked over at another table nearby with the most adorable little girl (about 8 months old) who was wearing this sweet white knit hat with a big purple cloth flower attached to the front of it and tears started welling up in my eyes again.

With the exception of one person who thought having my hopes and dreams shattered into a billion pieces was pretty funny, my friends and family have been so supportive of me by lending a sympathetic ear and by choosing not to lecture me about how I should be happy that it's healthy no matter the gender. Of course, I know this already but it doesn't change how sad I am. I also know it's not easy to call when you know the person you will be speaking with is in turmoil over something and there is nothing you can do or say to help and I appreciate those calls very much.

I called my dad yesterday to tell him the news and after much consoling he said, "Sometimes in life we don't get what we want." I wish I could trade everything I've ever wanted and will want in the future for this one thing. My heart is breaking.