Girl Talk

Dear Dana, and eventually Eliza, and especially Cora,

A few days ago we made a quick trip to Walgreens because your father had been hit with the plague that is Influenza 2013, and he needed some meds to survive it. Meds meaning Nyquil, so he could just fall asleep for the next seven days until his body decided to start acting human again.

As we were stopped in one of the aisles a woman started to walk past us, took stock of you three little girls, peeked into the carseat inside the cart and caught a glimpse of one sleeping boy. And then she said something along the lines of this. "Oh! How lucky! You finally got your boy!". I'm not sure what I said in response, probably just a polite smile and a generic, "Yeah, he's a keeper", and then turned around, hoping you girls were all preoccupied enough picking out your gummy vitamins to have heard the exchange.

But when I looked down at you, Dana, there was an expression on your face that only lasted for about a millisecond, but it was so transparent and it spoke volumes into what was running through your head and going on inside your heart in that brief moment in time . I'm not even sure how to explain what I saw, but it pierced my very soul. The look was part hurt, part confusion, and part just plain sad. And of course I knew why. It came about as a result of hearing the exact same conversation you are on the listening end of almost every time I take you four children with me anywhere. The whole, unintentionally hurtful, "You finally got your boy" conversation. Just like you, I do not like those words, and I often have to keep myself from covering your ears when someone says them to me while you and your sisters are anywhere in the vicinity.

Honey(s), I know there will be many hurtful things said to you or around you in this lifetime. And in the grand scheme of things this one is probably going to be relatively minor. You are what you are, our family is what it is, and you love your brother with all your heart. But this idea that Jones is somehow more valued or special to us because he is our only boy is one hurtful thing that I can easily clear up and hopefully have not be a hurtful thing anymore.

My sweet girls, there is no truth in what that woman said other than the indisputable fact that after giving birth to three girls, I gave birth to a boy. I can understand why it is assumed by some that the birth of Jones was in some way more exciting or more meaningful to your father and me than the birth of you three girls. But I can also assure with 100% certainty that it was not. Back when Daddy and I were considering trying for a fourth child, it was of utmost importance to both of us that the other one knew that we were not having another baby to have a baby boy, we were having another baby to have another baby. The gender of this child was of absolutely no importance. Which is also why we chose not to find out if Jones was a boy or a girl when we had the chance, because we simply did not care. We just felt blessed, so blessed, so very blessed to be able to bring another child into our family.

And to Cora: I, too, was the third girl in the family with the only boy to follow. And I can remember many times wondering if there was any disappointment at my birth, any brief moments of sadness that followed the words, "It's a girl!", any thoughts of, "Really? Again?" that ran through my parents (especially my father's) mind. And I am so thankful that Nana drilled it into my head at a very young age how Papa had said to her before they got pregnant with me that he didn't want to have another baby if she thought he needed a boy, because he would be just as happy with another girl. And how after I was born Nana said he beamed from ear to ear, pride washing over his face, and he went around telling everyone that he was blessed with another girl and how beautiful I was. I carry those words still with me today, and I want to give you some reassuring words of your own.

Immediately after Jones was born, and I heard the doctor say, "It's a boy!", I turned to your father to see his reaction, wondering if there would be a look of pride and excitement the likes of which I had never seen before. I half expected the thought of having a son to make him glow, or to make him smile brighter, or to do something to his face that would acknowledge that this birth was different. But to my genuine surprise and delight, there was nothing of the sort. Nothing. He looked exactly the same as he did after every single one of you were born. The exact same smile, the very same look of pride, the identical sense of relief that the birth was over and everyone was healthy and safe. And throughout the day I kept waiting for it to hit him, I kept waiting for him to say something about finally having a boy, I kept waiting for him to show in any way that he was more proud, more excited, more whatever. But I waited in vain. It never happened. Not even for a moment. And later, after everyone had been called and everyone had expressed their joy over us having a son, he turned to me and said, "Having a boy is nice, but there still is something so special about having a little girl, too". And through my medicinal haze those words stuck with me, and I made a point to not forget them because I wanted to make sure you all knew that boy or girl, you are all special to us because you are ours, because God chose you to become part of our family, and that is where it ends.

And Dana, that other day at Walgreens after the lady had continued on her way and I saw that look in your eye? It ripped my heart wide open thinking that someone had caused you, even for one moment, to think you were anything less than the gift to this family that you are. And Eliza and Cora? That goes the same for you. Which is why I immediately turned to all of you, looked you in the eyes, and said that yes, we have a boy, but oh how I loooooooove my girls. Your father and I? We have three beautiful, unique, wonderful daughters. And I thank God for that daily. Just as I thank him for your beautiful, unique, wonderful brother. All in the same breath, all one in the same, all equally important and equally loved.

And boy oh boy (oh girls), we will never let you forget it.

Love,
Momma