People have been asking me how I’m feeling since finding out I’m having another boy, making me a mom of all boys permanently (this is our last baby).
They ask cautiously, like they’re creeping onto a field of landmines.
The answer is: I’m feeling fine.
(Well, actually, I feel like garbage, but that’s pregnancy nausea and weight gain, which has nothing to do with the sex of this baby.)
To anyone who’s wondering, so you won’t have to ask, I feel the need to explain what it’s like to find yourself expecting a baby of the same sex again (and again– or even again again again, in my case). I suspect that any mom of all boys or mom of all girls will back me up on this.
I am beyond happy with the family I have. I adore my boys and I know what a blessing it is that they are here and healthy. My world revolves around them and they have brought more richness and joy to my life than I could ever have dreamed.
For me, as a mom of all boys, the desire for a girl is kind of like a craving for steak.
Imagine going to a restaurant. If the chef asked me for my preference, I’d usually order chicken or seafood. I don’t crave steak often, and it’s even more rare that I’d actually order one. Once every blue moon though, I’ll get a hankering to mix things up.
If they didn’t have steak, it’d be no big deal. If the chef came to my table and said, “Hey, I know you were thinking steak, but that’s not an option. I have this amazing, one-of-a-kind scallop special. Would you take that instead?”
The answer is: Of course!
I would take it happily, joyously. I might briefly wonder what the steak would have tasted like, but that’s not going to prevent me from enjoying the incredible dish before me.
The meal isn’t any less impressive or less-than simply because I’ve had scallops before.
(A friend, who’s also a mom of all boys, put it even better, saying basically, “I mean, sure, I was a little surprised there’s no steak available, but…”)
It won’t keep me from being exceedingly grateful for having the opportunity to dine at all. A seat at that table is a blessing, and I would gladly go there again and again (in my case, four times in a row, to be exact).
After all, there are millions of women desperate for a seat at that table.
“The Chef” of my family knows exactly what He’s doing and I am simply grateful for my seat at our family’s (increasingly full) table.
(With that said, if The Chef wanted to give us a boy who pees in the potty instead of around it this time, I certainly wouldn’t complain…)
Are you a mother who only has sons or a mom of all daughters?
Do you feel the same way? Or differently? Leave me your thoughts in the comments!