Tuesday was our big day. We went to have an ultrasound on the baby. Everything went great. Well, almost everything. The placenta is close to my cervix, but there’s still plenty of time for it to move up, so for now I’m going to try to remain positive about it. The doctor had to step out for a delivery so I asked the ultrasound tech a few questions about my Vba2C (vaginal birth after 2 cesareans). I left feeling discouraged because she told me that they won’t let me go past 40 weeks. What in the world? 40 weeks is just an estimated due date! And from all of my research, I know that being induced can increase my risks of uterine rupture. She also said the baby can’t be over a certain weight. Bull! I know of plenty of women who have had Vbacs with big babies. I’m just going to take her words as a grain of salt until I actually get a chance to talk to my doctor. I really hope his words are more encouraging to me. I am scheduled to go for another ultrasound next month because of my age. Yay! Way to make me feel old. They look for chromosomal disorders, down syndrome being the most common. So far though, everything looks great with the baby.

I had the technician find out the gender as we all closed our eyes. She wrote down what it was and put it in two separate envelopes; one for the cake maker for our reveal party, and one for us to verify later. Once we were home I just couldn’t stop thinking about the gender. I started getting a strong feeling that it was another boy. I fought back tears just thinking about it. Don’t get me wrong please. I love my boys with all of my heart, but I really had my heart set on this baby being a girl. Everything about this pregnancy is different. I was sure it was a girl. But what if I was wrong? I suddenly realized that if I wait until the party to find out, there’s a 50/50 chance that it could be a boy. I realized that I would probably cry my eyes out in front of everyone and then have to leave the room. That would be so awkward and not the way I imagined our fun party to turn out.


I jokingly held up one of the envelopes towards the light (without anyone knowing). It was a brown envelope so I didn’t expect to see anything…but I did. I was sure I saw the word BOY. I fought back tears hard. Once the kids had left the room I told my husband what had happened. I asked him if he’d be mad at me if I opened the envelope to make sure. He said he wouldn’t. So I opened it. I was right. My heart just sank. I cried, and cried, and cried. I said things that I already regret. My head felt like it was going to explode. I ended up crying myself to sleep around 1:30 in the morning.

We cancelled the party. I felt like I was mourning the loss of something, and I was. I was mourning the loss of the dream of having my own daughter; my own little princess. I wanted so badly to buy pink things. I wanted a little girl to go shopping with. Someone to have my hair and nails done with; all these things that I missed out on with my own mother because she was such a hard worker. We never really had that mother/daughter relationship that I longed for. I really thought I could experience that with my own daughter, but I feel like I’ll never have that chance now.

I don’t want to share my news with anyone, but I’m sure that most who were going to come to the party have assumed the truth. I feel let down. I feel like I’m letting other people down. I know so many others who hoped that this would be our girl. I don’t want to hear the comments. “At least it’s healthy”. “You’re so blessed to be having 4 kids when so many moms can’t even have 1”. I get all of that, but I don’t want to hear it. It’s not helpful to me right now.

For now it’s extremely hard for me to think of my pregnant friends who are finding out they are having girls. It’s hard to think of all the people around me who have girls. Why couldn’t I just have one? I feel like no one is really going to care much about this baby. If it were a girl, I would’ve had the gender reveal party and celebrated with friends and family. I would’ve had a baby shower. She wouldn’t have had only hand-me-downs from her 3 older brothers. There will be no exciting picture to announce the gender on facebook. I’m finding it so hard to find any excitement in this whatsoever. I don’t feel a connection with this baby. Even when I thought that it might be a girl I felt that way. I thought it was just because I don’t feel this one moving as much. Now I just don’t know. I don’t want to buy anything for it. I don’t want to come up with another G name. And then I feel extremely guilty for having these feelings that I can’t seem to control.


Why can’t I find it in me to celebrate and be happy over this wonderful blessing that God is trusting me with? Even when I hold my 1 year old and see that joy that he brings into my life, I still feel like a piece of my life is missing: my little girl that I’ll probably never have. I’m very depressed. I’m just not myself. I’m finding it so hard to get back to my old self. I feel like I’m purposely isolating myself because I don’t want anyone’s pity and I don’t want the opposite either. I just don’t want to be around anyone. I guess I just need time to come to terms with this. I’m sure God has a reason for giving me 4 boys and I am grateful for their health. I’m sure I will love and connect with this baby in time. And that’s just what I need…time.

Be blessed my friends!

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