Sometimes something hits you in the heart when you really don't expect it.
Despite hoping for a girl, I have two boys. Two wonderful, funny, smart, beautiful boys. I was so happy to be part of the Dove program to promote the Unstoppable Moms for Unstoppable Girls contest and while writing that post I actually had an epiphany. Of course my sons will have friends that are girls who will be part of my life. It's almost the same thing, except better because I'll be able to talk to them in a way I wouldn't with my own daughter. Hooray!
And then the post went live and I sat there on my couch crying. Because, oh, I so badly want a daughter.
I don't know why this matters to me. I truly don't. But this week alone I've seen at least four of my friends on Facebook talk about painting their nails with their daughters and my heart is hurting.
Part of me is mourning the daughter I was sure I was going to have. I've planned for her for years. I saw myself with her. She was an actual, real, though not-yet-physical entity to me. Was I wrong? I guess I was.
After Connor was born, it was clear to me that he was the baby we were meant to have. And I feel that way about Ethan, though in a different sort of way. But I still struggle, wondering how I could have been so sure of something that was obviously not meant to be.
Is this crazy? Or have you felt this way too?
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