I always thought I’d be a mommy to two girls.
When I envisioned our future family, I saw my daughter, Mae, walking with her hand clasped tightly to another little girl’s.
It’s a precious image I’ve had in my head for a long time, but one I was afraid to verbalize.
In 2014, after a struggle to become pregnant, we found out we were expecting, and I was sure this was it.
My two girls.
Sadly, we miscarried that sweet little one, and I pushed that image far back into the corner of my brain…and my heart.
I felt like that dream was over, and it was one I grieved for a long time.
And then…surprise of surprises…we found out this past November that we were expecting again.
And I allowed that dream to take its place in the depths of my heart again.
I was sure.
My pregnancy with this one was nearly identical to my pregnancy with Maelie, other than the fact that I was even sicker. But everyone knows…sick = girl.
Oh, I wanted her to be a girl so badly.
We’d picked out her name. Hope Kristine.
And though there were nagging thoughts of, I think this might be a boy, I tried to stay positive.
God knew the desires of my heart, and I was sure He’d give them to me.
But He didn’t.
A few weeks ago we found out that we are, in fact, expecting a BOY.
Despite the cuteness of his ultrasound picture, I cried. A lot. Like, weepy-with-constant-tears, a lot.
Not because I don’t love this baby, but because my dream of two little girls is over.
We know this is it. Physically, my body can’t handle another pregnancy. And I’m not young, either, so there’s that. And my family can’t endure another bout with Hyperemesis Gravidarum…that’s not fair to anyone.
I told my husband…My dream of another little girl to love died today. I’ll never have that.
And then I wept some more.
And I have to be honest with all of you…it’s taken time to grieve the loss of that dream and embrace the new one God is writing for us instead.
It’s not one I ever dreamed…I’m not gonna lie, I don’t have a clue what to do with a boy.
I don’t necessarily look forward to trucks and trains and baseball or two kiddos, six years separating them, of the opposite gender.
Truthfully, I’m facing a lot of fears right now. It feels safer to push them under the rug and never admit they’re there…but they are.
And yet July will come, and this pregnancy will end with a baby boy in my arms.
And I know I’ll fall in love, just like I did with my sweet Mae.
And I’ll look back at this and know completely that the dreams He’s writing…or rewriting…for me are better than anything I could ever come up with on my own.
Maybe you find yourself there today, my friend…struggling, hoping, wishing the dream would turn out like you want. Or, watching a dream being rewritten…and not knowing what to do or how to handle it all.
And yet…there’s hope when it all changes.
I can tell you that as I smile through the fluttery kicks I feel in my belly, in the weekly countdown (which needs to go faster!), and in the sweet anticipation of meeting this new little one who will, no doubt, change our family in amazing ways we can’t even picture right now.
So here’s to being a boy mom…to the trucks, the trains, the mud pies, and the adventures.
And here’s to our Father, who writes the greatest adventures of all. 🙂
Thank you, God, for that.
Shared by: Mel Schroeder