I read other blogs. I see the photos. I watch my friends’ families. And I feel a small sense of loss.
I have a twinge of sadness that my husband has no son to walk alongside him. No one to pass on his trade to, his skills, his business. No one that *really* wants to wrestle or throw a baseball or watch the NBA (*gag*). I feel a bit of loss that I have no son to influence, no boy that will eventually eat me out of house and home, or who will one day tower over me and yet still be my child. No sweet, tender boy to direct in the ways of becoming a strong, godly man.
A boy is not what God has chosen for us. He chose for us to have four beautiful girlie girls. He knew that we would reach four and feel our family was full, quite possibly complete. He knew that my husband would have to enter the world of estrogen and only have his work as an escape. He knew I would not have to work through the energy and the physicality that is a boy and that I would occasionally feel an ache when I see other families with their sons.
Sometimes the ache is replaced with an irritation. Sometimes I am simply annoyed, even angered, that others would think our family is somehow lacking because we don’t have sons. This comes from so many places. Friends, family, strangers at the grocery store. You gonna keep tryin’ til you have a boy? Seriously, is our proliferation really your concern? God knew what He put in my womb. He didn’t make a mistake giving us four girls. Each one is an incredible blessing. Each one is perfect. And I wouldn’t trade a single one of them to have a son.
Most of the time I am content. I am satisfied with my girls. I thoroughly enjoy them. Like I keep saying, God knew. He makes no mistakes. One day, if He wills, I will have four sons through our daughters marriages. And perhaps grandsons. But I know that’s not entirely the same.
I know that we are not necessarily “done”. But we feel no leading, no calling to add to our numbers. Not naturally. Not through adoption. That can change, but it’s where our hearts have been for quite some time.
I do not begrudge the eight “x” chromosomes that God knit together in my womb. But sometimes I still long for a “y”.