So as you all know, we didn't find out what we were having when we were pregnant with Goose. We didn't with Bug either, and they truly were the greatest surprises of our lives, like the ultimate Christmas Day. I always said that it didn't matter what we had, that I'd be happy.
With Bug I was convinced we were having a boy, and was actually really excited about the prospect of having a son. Then we had this amazing daughter, and I found this love that I never knew existed. I couldn't have imagined the outcome any other way. She was, and is, the apple of my eye.
Going into our second pregnancy, I felt the same way. Healthy, that's what I hoped for. On one hand I hoped for another girl, to give Bug a sister and see a friendship blossom like I'd never known (I had brothers). Plus, we had everything we needed for a girl, plus some.
On the other hand I really wanted a boy. To have a son, to raise a little boy, to get that mother son relationship that I've envied when I've seen what an amazing bond it is. Like the father daughter bond that just isn't quite the same as the mother daughter bond is. The thought excited me so much.
Then Goose was born. This beautiful little boy, and he was all mine.
A week or so in, the hormonal tornado, the avalanche of post delivery emotions hit me. I suddenly found myself mourning the little girl that wasn't.
Now don't get me wrong, the connection and love for Goose was profound, and immediate. The willingness to throw myself in front of a train if it meant saving him was just as strong as it was, and is, for Bug. The knowledge that we gave Bug her own little man to watch after her was exciting.
But I still found myself mourning the little girl that wasn't. I like to think that the second embryo that we put in that day last April, the one that didn't take, was the little girl I find myself mourning. She was an angel that God decided the world wasn't ready for, so he let her be in our lives for just those amazing, hope filled few days. I'm OK with this, as like our other embryo angels I know that she will watch over us all, I will memorialize her in some way as I did our others, and I will move on.
I was so afraid to admit to even myself that I had this mourning, this slight disappointment. I cried over it. I felt so horrible, I felt horrible because I couldn't believe that I was sad and crying over the fact that I had a little boy instead of another little girl. I mean, I begged for this baby, for this perfect little boy, and I loved him with all my heart, so why did I feel like this?
I am sure that Infertility in general played a part in my slow acceptance of my feelings. It's always that shadow that hovers in the background, and at times makes an attempt to block your sun. I refuse to let it. I finally admitted to myself that I was sad that Goose wasn't another little girl, that I was mourning that little girl. I told K that I realized I had wanted a little girl more than I realized, and as it turned out, so did he. It's OK to feel this way, and I know that now. It's not a bad thing, it just is. The quicker you accept it, the quicker you can move on from it and realize the joy that is there waiting for you.
As what I assume to be the baby blues passed, as I felt my hormones make attempts at righting themselves and sleep got a little better, the worst of it passed. I still mourn that little girl that could have been, but I couldn't imagine life without my little boy. The little boy that I have this amazing bond with, that mother son bond that I have envied. The way he wants me over anyone else, the way he rests his hand on my chest as he nurses, the way he looks at me with those clear bright blue eyes as if he's looking into my soul and soothing it, the way he settles immediately when I wrap him in my arms, it's amazing. Without him I wouldn't be whole, without Bug I wouldn't be whole. He is the perfect little man to complete our family.
And everyday when I think it's impossible to love my kids any more, because my heart already wants to burst with a love that I never could have imagined possible, one of them does something that just makes me love them more. Bug is such a little mama and she adores her little brother. Yes, we have jealousy, but the way she wants to see him and misses him when he's gone, the way she hugs and kisses on him, the way she gives him her most prized possessions, it just warms my heart.
I am a lucky, lucky mama.