DREAMING IN SHADES OF PINK

In the fall of 1998, I found myself pregnant.  While my fiancé was dreaming of a little girl, I was secretly hoping for a boy.  Personally, I wanted to have a boy as my oldest child.  Well, I got my wish, and Brandon is almost 12 years old now! I have loved him more than anything in the world! My son and I have always been very close, sharing a bond even stronger than most mothers and sons.

However, ever since Brandon was born, I have hoped to have the opportunity to have a baby girl.  I wished for this little girl so hard, that I had a “hope chest” full of frilly little outfits and fuzzy pink blankets.  So 7 months ago, when I found myself pregnant again, with my beau of several years, I was sure I was carrying a girl.  And not only out of wishful thinking, but also because of differences in symptoms, and other little signs that lead me to believe that my prayers had been answered.

At the beginning of January we went in for our ultra-sound.  I was overwhelmed with nervousness! I assumed that the baby would be healthy—all I really cared about finding out from the screening was the gender.  Shortly into the scan, the nurse showed us the unmistakable appendage that completely shattered my dreams.  I cried.  I was able to keep from sobbing, but sitting there looking at my husband to be, the father of this life growing inside me, the tears rolled hot and fast down my cheeks.  Which of course lead to guilt for being so unhappy with the miracle we’d been blessed with, and I cried even more.

That night I emptied the baby dresser of all those precious frocks, with matching hats, bloomers and booties.  The little one-piece suits with bonnets and undershirts.  All the adorable sleepers that I had could so envision snuggling my daughter in.  I put them back in the hope box, and made my ever-patient fiancé take the box and hide it away in the back bedroom.  Then I went and purchased several boxes of gently used baby boy clothes, carefully folding them and putting them into their place in the baby dresser. 

Somehow the boy things all looked so plain.  So boring.  So ugly. 

I tried to tell myself that a boy would be just as good.  Of course I would love a son!  How could I not??  For several days, every time he kicked me, rather than the indulgent smile I’d have gotten just the week before, part of me wanted to yell at the BOY in my belly.  I was so angry at this injustice that had somehow been perpetrated against me!  And of course, all of these emotions would again be followed with the self-hating guilt.  I had begged so hard for this baby—and just because it wasn’t a girl, I was going to hold it against the cosmos?? Hold it against HIM?!? What was wrong with me?!?

I bought a baby name book, and scoured it for names I liked.  At first they all sounded so stupid.  But after a while, I started finding some I liked.  I made a huge list of EVERY name that struck me at all.  And as I started thinking of the baby in terms of “Holden” or “Archer”, he became more real.  I started to forgive the universe for the mistake it had made.  I started to forgive myself for my own anger.  And I started to accept, even like…maybe even love the BOY I was nourishing inside me.

I’ve now had nearly two months to accept the changed perspective of my life.  I’m happy to be having this baby.  I do love this child, Leighton, the first progeny of my fiancé.  But I will admit that I still look longing at all the little girls I see around me.  I have to focus on the “attitude” girls often exude. The fact that “everyone” says they’re harder to raise than boys.  I have to tell myself “See! Aren’t you GLAD this ended up being a boy?!”

The answer is no.  I’m still not glad that I didn’t get my little girl.  I still feel like I’ve lost a dream.  That I’m somehow unfulfilled.  Don’t get me wrong: I WILL and DO love my growing son, Leighton.  But that doesn’t stop the grief for the daughter that I had already envisioned in my arms.  After 11 years of dreaming of shades of pink, it almost feels like a physical loss to have to change those visions. It feels like “Emma” was actually a real child that somehow was ripped away from me.  I am dealing with this “loss” every day; going through the stages of grief.  But what makes it worse, is knowing that I can’t admit how hard it’s hit me.  It’s not acceptable to feel loss for a child that never was, just because the child I have is not the gender I want. It’s not acceptable to be so unthankful for the gift I’ve been given, when so many couples can’t have children at all.

Acceptable or not, I am grieving.  And not only am I suffering through the hormonal moodiness of most pregnant women, but I’m also riding a roller coaster of grief for the daughter I’m not having; love, joy and anticipation for the boy I am having; and guilt for all so many emotions!

I know when I have Leighton in my arms, this will all seem so distant….and I can’t wait for that moment!

EMPOWERMENT

A national radio station has been suggesting that rather than making a New Years Resolution, that listeners choose a Power Word for the year.  They suggest that once you choose your word, you keep this word in mind throughout the year, using it to focus your actions.

I have chosen the word “empowerment”.  In traditional Junior High School manner, I started with a trip to Ol’ Mr. Webster, or at least the online equivalent.   Empowerment: to give power or authority to; authorize, esp. by legal or official means; OR to enable or permit. I especially like the word “ENABLE” in there.

Most of the time when we think of empowerment, it seems that we think in terms of “girl power”. Especially in reference to a woman being strong and independent.  I don’t generally feel that I need to focus on more personal strength.  However, the word Empowerment really stuck with me.  I think there are a number of ways I can Empower this year.

My son is now nearly 12 years old, but honestly doesn’t always act like it.  I want to focus on empowering him to be stronger for himself.  Encouraging him to believe in himself, believing that he CAN do all those things he tends to say “I can’t” to.  This will require a fairly major change on my part.  I have the bad habit of doing things for him, rather than making him figure out how to do it for himself.  It’s just so much easier to do it myself—but as he’s getting older, its getting rather silly for his Mommy to have to do things for him!

Using that same theory on my Cub Scout boys is another goal.  Each boy should feel empowered to be HIS best.  This includes reminding him, sometimes over and over, that he is good at something! It seems that a high percentage of my boys are not naturally feel self confident.  They tend to be non-sports-oriented, often more along the lines of being “geeky”.  They are often not academically astute, with tendencies toward hyperactivity, all of which unfortunately does not make them the most popular in their classes.  Enabling them to find something that they are good at, giving them an opportunity to “win”, will Empower these boys, and provide them with something to have pride in!  This can be a life-long change for them!

I also want to focus on the idea of empowering the miscellaneous people around me.  There are moments when everyone could use encouragement; a reminder to believe in themselves.  If I can provide this, why shouldn’t I?  It costs me nothing, but will provide great rewards in knowing that the people I care about are feeling enabled in their own lives!

Finally, I do know that there are still areas in my own life that I can work on.  I want to remember my own power to have patience; to be more active; to do my job and everything I undertake to the best of my ability, without taking on too much! 

I believe in myself.  I believe in my son, the cub scouts, and all my family and friends.  So for this next year, I will work to empower everyone!