Why I Cried When I Found Out I Was Having My Third Boy

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When we found out we were having our third boy, I cried. Not right away. I managed (barely) to hold it together for the rest of the ultrasound and the doctor’s appointment that followed it. But when I got in the car, I lost it.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mom of boys. They are full of fun and energy and mischief. But this time, my last time, I really wanted it to be a girl. And I had convinced myself it was.

On the day we found out we were pregnant, we took a small day trip out to the Land of Fire and Ice. While walking past their mineral panning station, I found this beautiful pink rock abandoned on the ground. The panning was still closed for the season, so it’d probably hadn’t been used in months.

It was a sign. I was sure of it. I was going to get my little girl.

Of course, as the 20-week ultrasound came closer, I started to temper my certainty. After all, if I was wrong, I’d better start mentally preparing myself beforehand. I’d tell myself history was not on my side. That I know boys, so it’d be an easier transition. I tried to convince myself that it really was a boy, so I wouldn’t be surprised.

But I wasn’t very effective.

And I didn’t really believe it, not until the tech said, “And . . . it’s a boy!”

Then my vision blurred as all my premature plans came crashing down around my head.

I felt like the worst person ever. I was angry. And what kind of mother gets angry about something like that? The guilt was suffocating. But the grief was still there. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t push it away.

Why I Cried When I Found Out I was Having my Third BoyWhen my husband got home, he tried to distract me by talking about names. I, being the helpful person I am, snapped back at him that I’d run out of boys’ names with the last one. Luckily he, unlike me, was still sane (and far more patient than I deserved) so he pushed on.

Then he said it. (The name, which is currently still a secret.) Instantly I knew. And the connection I’d been too upset to feel came rushing back.

You see, I wasn’t really mad at my baby or my husband (that one might have taken a little longer). And I wasn’t grieving because this beautiful new baby was a boy.

I was grieving the loss of a baby girl who never was and probably never will be. I was grieving the lack of tulle and tea parties. The giggles. The trip to the bridal shop that I’ll probably never take. Calls from a desperate new mom, turning to the person she trusts the most. I was grieving that special bond, not a given, but only possible between a mother and daughter.

It was only after I allowed myself to recognize the loss and drop the guilt that I started to forget the sorrow. It was only after I accepted the sadness that the joy began to grow and replace it.

Even if I could, I wouldn’t dream of changing this little guy into a girl. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still sometimes get a pinch of sadness when I pass an impossibly cute polka dot dress in the store. Or that I never picture what it would be like to have a daughter when I see a mom holding a little girl’s hand while they cross a parking lot.

And when the guilt starts to slip in again. When I think back in shame about how upset I was that first day, I have to take a deep breath.

I’m a mom. But I’m only human. And that’s okay.

Originally published August 2016.



The opinions expressed in this post are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of ABQ Mom, its executive team, other contributors to the site, its sponsors or partners, or any organizations the aforementioned might be affiliated with.

3 COMMENTS

  1. After an 8 year break in-between the first SIX BOYS, ONLY BOYS, ALL BOYS in a row, I was “convinced” on convincing myself he was a boy too and that I’d be fine with it. Then the results were in (early due to other tests). He WAS in fact boy #7. I was so down. So depressed. Thought about how unfair it was.
    Like the story says, I was NOT mad or angry or upset or depressed he was a boy, I was also knowing this (crazy IUD baby) was my very last chance to have her. And I had to deal with that.
    Now, due in one week, I’m ready for #7 and all his beauties he will bring.

    However, yes, I still wish I could have had a girl. I dont feel too bad about it. I have 7 boys now, after all!

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