I was pretty certain we were having a boy. I'm not sure why, exactly, other than having one of those gut feelings you have at big moments in your life. Maybe they'll call your name as the winner. Maybe that's the phone call about the dream job. Maybe, or certainly, in this case, I was expecting to hear we were having a little Mike.
I didn't hear that, though.
"Those three lines," said the ultrasound technician. "It's a little girl."
And I was deflated -- absolutely, honest trust, deflated. I wanted a boy. What man doesn't, right? Let's be honest here. When we think of a Dad and his son, we think of sports, camping, shaving ... my chest is sticking out as I type these words. Man-to-man talks, secret handshakes, first beers. Who wouldn't want that?
I faked a smile as I looked at Bridget, my wife. "Oh, that's so exciting! Another girl! Sisters ..."
Annabelle was two-years-old and our 20-week-old fetus (who would become Aurora) would be sisters. We had already decided we'd stop at two children, so this was it. Two girls. No boys.
"Are you sure you're happy? I know you wanted a boy," Bridget said.
I swallowed hard.
"I did," I said. "But really, what Dad doesn't want two girls?"
And like that, after about 30 seconds, it all went away. Saying that sentence out loud -- and realizing how true it was -- changed my outlook. It has stayed changed since. Did I swallow my feelings? Will they surface on some rainy Tuesday when I'm 45? I doubt it.
The thing is, all that stuff I wrote in the fourth paragraph (sports, camping, shaving) are outdated. They're from the 50s. Sure, the bond between a Dad and a son are unique and wonderful. But so is the bond between a Dad and a daughter. Or two daughters. Or three daughters. Girls play sports, girls go camping, and girls, God willing, can be President of the United States. Girls like beer, too. And secret handshakes.
At a bachelor party a few months later (by this time, Aurora was three-months-old; she's six-months-old now), the all-male cast were saying what you'd expect when the topic arose:
- "Dude, go for one more. You have to get back in there."
- "You have to get back in there ..."
- "You want a boy. Everyone wants a boy."
I did. But now I have two girls and I wouldn't change a thing ...
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It's not all fun, of course. Raising two girls, or tending two roses, in this case, is hard, frustrating, boring, fun, hilarious, and scary. That's what this blog will be about, the ups and downs of raising Annabelle (3) and Aurora (six months). About a year after Bridget and I stopped writing A Joint Account, I've decided I miss this creative outlet. Plus, it's a good way to remember these sleep-less, frustrating, wonderful days.
Whether you are a Dad with two daughters, a Mom with three sons, or you wouldn't want kids in a million years, I hope you'll read along. And maybe even share and comment here and there. I can certainly use all the advice I can get.
