I was full of anticipation. It had been a long wait for 5 months but I knew the ultrasound would show me what I wanted to see...a sweet little baby boy..a little brother for my daughter to complete the family picture I had held so dear for nearly all my life...I even had a name picked out...this was my baby...and it felt so right...the way I felt, my dietary tastes, the way I was carrying...everything!!!
So here I was at the doc's watching pictures of my unborn baby...nodding absently as she pointed out fingers, toes, brain, heart, lungs...all normal thankfully..but was it a boy or girl? I asked. And she said something I had never imagined in my wildest dreams...it's a girl, she said. 99 percent sure, she said. My world came crumbling down.
I walked out that door as if in a daze...it couldn't be true, I thought. No way I could have two daughters...how can I split my love for my oldest one? She was the planned one...the princess we would be so proud to have. This was supposed to be a boy, to provide a foil for her. So she could learn to play games and not be a sissy. So that she could find out pink was not the only colour in the world. How could this have happened? And now I would have a girl forever doomed to be second best. Younger sisters never did as well as older ones I had decided. Forever compared, forever found wanting. What was the use?...Shame, shame, shame.
I flatter myself as being independent, liberated and liberal.In that moment of truth I discovered who I was and I was ashamed. But I could not shake off the feeling of being robbed, betrayed, cheated. For one fleeting moment I thought of not having the baby at all. Maybe I could reset things I reasoned to myself, hating myself the whole time. But I could not face wanton foeticide. Family tried to calm me... you will love her they said...just wait and see...
Wait and see...I didn't want to wait and I didn't want to see...I wanted to have nothing to do with this child who had robbed me of my perfect family... I hated it and I hated myself for hating it. Shame, shame, shame.
The months passed. I had devised a way in which I could deal with the situation. Ultrasounds could be wrong I had reasoned. The technician could have been wrong. These things happen all the time. So I lied and clung to a faint chance as a lifeline to sanity. I didn't tell anyone I was having a girl. I don't know, I said. They couldn't see, I said. Denying the existence of my baby to myself, to others. Shame, shame, shame.
And then the day arrived. I went to the hospital and went through all the motions. There was no joy in me. No anticipation. Just a need to be done with the whole thing. What was there to expect anyways? And then you were born.
A little pink bundle, squawling with gusto. Feed her right away, mommy, they said and I took you gingerly. My previous experience with feeding babies hadn't gone too well...but you didn't seem to care...nuzzling hungrily, and settling almost immediately. I watched and felt your soft skin, the funny ears, the bald patches behind your little head. And against all odds, I felt an overwhelming love... a need to protect and a need to love. And you loved me too. I was sure of it. Unquestioningly, totally and you demanded no less in return. I held you close to me for a long time that night. You were my love.
And so I have watched you grow. My little one who smiles in glee when she sees me. Who plays the sweetest games as though created especially for me and you. A smile to chase away my tears and a smile to chase away yours. We are bound by the thread of your laughter, by the joy of a hug in night. I am your mother and you will forever be my child. I started this journey thinking you would rob your sister of my pride in her. I now know that is not true. She is still my pride. You are my joy.
So here I was at the doc's watching pictures of my unborn baby...nodding absently as she pointed out fingers, toes, brain, heart, lungs...all normal thankfully..but was it a boy or girl? I asked. And she said something I had never imagined in my wildest dreams...it's a girl, she said. 99 percent sure, she said. My world came crumbling down.
I walked out that door as if in a daze...it couldn't be true, I thought. No way I could have two daughters...how can I split my love for my oldest one? She was the planned one...the princess we would be so proud to have. This was supposed to be a boy, to provide a foil for her. So she could learn to play games and not be a sissy. So that she could find out pink was not the only colour in the world. How could this have happened? And now I would have a girl forever doomed to be second best. Younger sisters never did as well as older ones I had decided. Forever compared, forever found wanting. What was the use?...Shame, shame, shame.
I flatter myself as being independent, liberated and liberal.In that moment of truth I discovered who I was and I was ashamed. But I could not shake off the feeling of being robbed, betrayed, cheated. For one fleeting moment I thought of not having the baby at all. Maybe I could reset things I reasoned to myself, hating myself the whole time. But I could not face wanton foeticide. Family tried to calm me... you will love her they said...just wait and see...
Wait and see...I didn't want to wait and I didn't want to see...I wanted to have nothing to do with this child who had robbed me of my perfect family... I hated it and I hated myself for hating it. Shame, shame, shame.
The months passed. I had devised a way in which I could deal with the situation. Ultrasounds could be wrong I had reasoned. The technician could have been wrong. These things happen all the time. So I lied and clung to a faint chance as a lifeline to sanity. I didn't tell anyone I was having a girl. I don't know, I said. They couldn't see, I said. Denying the existence of my baby to myself, to others. Shame, shame, shame.
And then the day arrived. I went to the hospital and went through all the motions. There was no joy in me. No anticipation. Just a need to be done with the whole thing. What was there to expect anyways? And then you were born.
A little pink bundle, squawling with gusto. Feed her right away, mommy, they said and I took you gingerly. My previous experience with feeding babies hadn't gone too well...but you didn't seem to care...nuzzling hungrily, and settling almost immediately. I watched and felt your soft skin, the funny ears, the bald patches behind your little head. And against all odds, I felt an overwhelming love... a need to protect and a need to love. And you loved me too. I was sure of it. Unquestioningly, totally and you demanded no less in return. I held you close to me for a long time that night. You were my love.
And so I have watched you grow. My little one who smiles in glee when she sees me. Who plays the sweetest games as though created especially for me and you. A smile to chase away my tears and a smile to chase away yours. We are bound by the thread of your laughter, by the joy of a hug in night. I am your mother and you will forever be my child. I started this journey thinking you would rob your sister of my pride in her. I now know that is not true. She is still my pride. You are my joy.
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