Gonna Try For That Boy?

Yesterday was National Sister’s Day—a holiday like so many others these days that I had no idea existed—but one that brought a smile to my face. I’m happy because as a mother of not one, but two little girls, I get to celebrate an amazing bond of sisterhood shared between my daughters.

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Sisterhood is just one thing I love about being a #girlmom, but the list certainly doesn’t end there. So it still surprises me a little when I get THE QUESTION. 

Maybe you’ve gotten it, too.

“When are you gonna try for that boy?”

….

At some point it’s come from family. Other times, friends. Both, only a smidge serious in their inquiry.

But most often than not, the interrogation into my family’s personal choice to reproduce comes from complete strangers. We’re at the park, the grocery store, TARGET! My girls are riding in the shopping cart together and like a sixth sense, I can almost feel THE QUESTION coming. The obnoxious matching Pepto Bismol [amazon_textlink asin=’B0789GSZYZ’ text=’pink dresses‘ template=’ProductLink’ store=’poms2moms-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’798f0b74-996e-11e8-a5dc-ef9e1f1e247e’] (of their own choosing) probably made us an easy target.

I hear it so often… is it weird that I still don’t know how to respond?

THE QUESTION is innocent enough in nature, I know. As a society, I suppose there’s this unspoken expectation that inserts 1 boy/1 girl offspring into our subconscious illustration of the perfect family. Or maybe 3 females out and about is a lot to take in… we CAN look like a bit of a circus.  Or maybe, even living in 2018, we’re still at a place where boys are deemed essential to carrying on the family legacy. (THE QUESTION has also been rephrased as “When are you giving your husband a son?” The feminist in me throws up in my mouth a little.)

So here I stand at a crossroads of taking offense or offering pleasantries, wondering if I should just give my best southern “bless your heart” smile OR if I should go into the details of my husband’s vasectomy.

Because we’re not trying for that boy.

I’m not a total fragile snowflake here … I understand they mean well. I mean hello—if you’ve been a parent of a particular gender, (or both,) you possess a lifetime of memories and experiences of raising a child of that gender. If you have a little boy, I know you can’t possibly imagine life without one. Children have a way of changing you, like that.

I also have a goofy little brother whom I love with my whole heart. My husband is one of two boys. It’s not lost on me that our family expected, or may have even wanted a boy when we announced we were pregnant with our second. (I mean heck, I’ll admit I thought I was having a boy!) I get it – little dudes are cool.

So I’ll smile at them, and acknowledge how much fun boys can be—I’ll be aware of it as common knowledge, but I’ll never really know. I don’t have a son. And while I’ve happily come to terms with it, I briefly flash back to the 5 minutes in the doctor’s office when I was still processing it.

There was an instant when I realized no new adorable [amazon_textlink asin=’B072Q2VS57′ text=’tiny grandpa clothes‘ template=’ProductLink’ store=’poms2moms-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’b9af36ef-996e-11e8-9be6-dbb39f2ed099′] were getting hung in my baby’s nursery… and I had to cross off the “boy sports” my son would have played. I also thought about how later on I won’t get to talk to him about girls when he starts dating, and when he finds “the one,” I’ll never have a mother-son dance.

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Boy moms, you get a similar question. And I see you. And somehow, we see ourselves in one another.

Because for every time I hear about that special mother/son bond, or what it’s like to raise larger than life, rambunctious boys… I know what YOU’RE hearing. You’ve told me.

No princesses and fairy tale tea parties. No girly trips to the nail salon. You won’t have the blessing of watching your own child become a mother, and share in the maternal experience that made you feel the way you do for your son.

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These thoughts fly past me, but it’s back to THE QUESTION. As much as they don’t realize I’ve already processed the things I’ll miss by not having a boy, the thing is… I don’t care about that. I don’t even really care about me, here.

The purpose of this post is I don’t want my daughters hearing it.

At ages 3 and 1, they might not understand the full context of adult conversations, but I don’t love outsiders looking in at my sweet girls and insinuating that they’re not enough; that somehow, our family is incomplete without an extra set of XY chromosones.

So here we are… back at Target, still not knowing what to say. Instead, I reflect on the joy in my life because of these two little girls, not all of the things a stranger thinks I’m lacking.

My daughters are so much more than a jigsaw puzzle with a missing piece.

As a final thought, one of my girlfriends, already a mother to an amazing little girl, shared with me that she recorded her gender reveal for baby number two. As the announcement is made and a sweet little pastel pink cupcake is cut open, you can hear a family member comment, “Aw noooo.”

A bit hard to swallow… isn’t it?

So if this sounds like a rant, I instead want it to serve as a small reminder. Instead of focusing on what we DON’T have, please recognize what we DO HAVE.

We have healthy babies. LOVED babies. And isn’t this what’s important?

Do you have a brood of all boys? A group of all girls? I’d love to hear from you!