Mothers and Daughters

I got pregnant following a struggle with infertility.  I went through months and months of complex treatment and never knew if I would actually end up pregnant, either with my first child or my second. I suffered a chemical pregnancy, an eleven week miscarriage of a daughter (I was told it was a girl without indicating I wanted to know) and the miscarriage of my younger daughter's twin. Still, with all of this, I did have gender preferences.

I'm ashamed to admit it.  I should have been -- and was -- thrilled to be pregnant, and to have healthy babies.  That was the main thing.  But both times, I secretly wanted girls.  It wasn't because I didn't like boys.  I like boys. They are cute and fun. I have two fabulous nephews who I love being around. But I was afraid I wouldn't know what to do with a boy, how to be a mother to a boy. A friend of mine who is the mother to two sons said, "In the end, they're just people," and of course, she is right.

We chose not to find out the genders with either of our children. The first time, my husband wanted to be surprised; I wanted to know. I had been stealing myself for a boy all along, and knew I would be happy and thrilled if it turned out to be a boy, and would love him and would know just what to do with him, even if, during the pregnancy, the idea of mothering a boy made me feel wholly incapable.

When the baby was born, the first thing I said, through a strongly drugged haze (yes, this was nearly nineteen years ago!) was "What is it?" My doctor said, "It's a baby," like I'd just asked the stupidest question in the world. "The gender!" I cried.

"Oh," she said, flipping the baby over. "It's a girl." I held my hand up to my face in shock and over the next several weeks, frequently opened my daughter's diaper just to make sure.  Yes, nineteen years later, she is still a girl!

With my second child, my husband wanted to know, but I had decided I liked the delivery room surprise. This time I thought I was having a girl, and again, I was afraid about raising a son.  And it did, in fact, turn out to be a girl, who just turned fifteen. (By the way, my husband is one of four boys, so girls have been a huge learning curve for him, but he is excellent at fathering them.)

The main character in my book, Child of Mine, does not have gender preferences. She just wants one healthy baby.  But she does struggle with her relationship with her mother, and she does imagine what it will be like to be a mother, as well. Did you have a gender preference? And was it after struggling with infertilty treatments? Do you roll your eyes at those of us who have wanted a particular gender, just grateful your baby was born healthy, or born at all? Share your story with me. I'd love to hear it.