Girls and Boys

When I was pregnant with Beckett, I stumbled upon a message board/support group for women who were disappointed in the gender of their child/children. I generally thought their reasons were vapid and selfish and I rather casually judged them. Some of them were extremely angry that they had had a child of a sex other than the one they desired. Most had tried more than twice for a specific gender, usually female. However, there were a few posters who were really pissed off and disappointed to have even one son.

At the time, I didn't get it. At all. And I still don't get the anger or bitterness that a lot of the women expressed.

But now that the reality has completely set in that I am never going to have a daughter, I understand some of the sadness and disappointment. That said, I do not blame my sons or my husband or anyone else and I absolutely adore my sons. They are amazing and loving in ways that a girl never could be. Boys are just special in that way.

Still... there are things, experiences, knowledge, history that I could only share with a daughter. My daughter. Not a daughter-in-law. Not a niece. Not a friend's daughter.

And lately, it feels like the Universe is rubbing it in. And I just need to get it out.

I know that I've talked about this before, specifically about all the beautiful names I'll never use... Catherine/Cate/Cat, Tess, Anna Claire, Sloan(e), Emerson, Annalise, Elizabeth, Kyra.

Lately, I've been focused on the heart of the issue and that's how it has been presenting itself to me, too.

Everywhere I look friends and family are having daughters. Every movie or tv show I watch seems to have mothers and daughters having lovely encounters. Last weekend I watched a ton of movies while Scott's mom had the boys. One of them was an awful thing with Diane Keaton, Lauren Graham, Mandy Moore, and another woman. The three young women were Diane Keaton's daughters. The movie opened with the three of them at a spa, sharing and joking with one another. Of course, the mother was a real bitch, but with good intentions, I guess. However, that opening scene broke my heart.

I'm never going to have that. Not with my mom. Not with my daughter. And it sucks.

And that's just one thing on the lengthy list of experiences you can share with a daughter that you'll never get with a son. Now, that said, I know there's a ton of fun stuff I'll do with my sons. But I know that it's rare for a mother and son to have the same kind of emotionally intimacy that mothers and daughters can have. I've seen it. My best friend and her mom are exceedingly close. And while her brother and her mom love each other deeply, I don't think they connect in the same way.

And while Scott and his mom were very close at one time, they no longer share the same sort of relationship they once did when he told her everything that was going on in his life and she talked to him about who she was dating or asked for his opinion on things going on in her life. That more or less ended when we got married, although I'd be happy for him to talk to his mom more often. It's just that he doesn't need her in the same ways he once did. And that's normal.

But I think girls always need their moms in a way sons never will. And that's what breaks my heart.

And like I said.... That old fucking Universe just keeps rubbing it in. That stupid movie. Two friends/relatives having daughters in the last week. My favorite cousin's daughter going to her first prom. I know her mom helped pick her dress...it had her style all over it and her daughter is beautiful – the spitting image of her mom at that age.

Then there was the well-meaning friend I haven't seen since college who told me that she couldn't wait to meet my sons and that God really knew what he was doing when he gave you sons!"

I know Josie meant that as a compliment...I'm a guy's girl, love sports, not too prissy. Still, what I heard was, You are not good enough to raise a daughter and you'd only fuck her up the way your mom screwed you up.

Even as I type this, I hear how whiny and pathetic I sound. I know I should just shut the fuck up and be happy with what I've got. And I am happy with my sons. I wouldn't trade them in a million years. They're both so cute and handsome and funny. Each so full of their own unique personalities.

I can't help feeling like I got invited to the birthday party and all the other kids got cake AND ice cream, but all I got was a double helping of cake. And it's cake that moves around too much and is loud and won't sit still and stay on my plate.

But ya know what? At least I got invited to the party. I know that to anyone who wants kids and doesn't have them yet, I sound like a horribly selfish bitch.

And I'm sorry.

It's stupid, I know. But, it's what I'm feeling right now – a need to live out the mother/daughter relationship I've never had but see all around me. The sadness I feel that despite the fact that I went to a women's college and loved every single minute of it I don't have a legacy child to follow in my footsteps.

I'm just trying to shake it. Move on. Embrace the sports-themed bathroom the boys now share and forget about the rose and cream toile of my dreams.

Can't Complain

Every time I start complaining lately, I find myself feeling guilty and horrible. When I get angry because my kids are being too loud and I can't hear myself think and all I want is a moment of silence, I find myself thinking about how there are so many parents out there who would give anything to hear the shouts and screams of their little ones, but can't because they've died of some terrible disease. When I get irritated because I'm trying to do something and Brendan wants to talk and talk and talk about some cartoon or a toy or something I'm not all that interested in at the moment, I think about all the parents of autistic kids who are trapped in their minds and can't talk at all. Lately, my life is an endless cycle of guilt.

I think bad thoughts about someone, judge the person for how I think she has hurt me or someone else, and then I think well, I should put myself in her shoes. What would I do if our roles were reversed? It's constant for me.

Whatever negative feelings I have, I immediately feel guilty for feeling them and feel they are either unjustified or someone else, some better person, wouldn't be feeling the way I feel.

Ugh! When did I become this neurotic freak who just isn't able to simply BE?

Brendan told me yesterday – after I asked him to forgive me for getting frustrated with him for not listening to me for the nth time – that he forgave me and that he always forgives everybody. And when he said it, he meant it. And he was so filled with goodness and kindness...I was broken-hearted by how much I love this kid and I just wish I knew how to be the perfect mother for him and his brother. How to be the perfect wife for Scott. The perfect friend.

I guess I just feel like I fuck up over and over again, let the people I love down by not having the time or energy for them I know they really need. Not being who or what they need. I always feel like I'm spread so thin. Other women do it and do more. And certainly with far more grace and far less anger and guilt and fear. I just keep thinking if I can just find the right magic bean to figure out who it is I am meant to be I can make everyone, including myself, happy and loved, and I can be successful and have it all – happy marriage, happy kids, happy friendships, happy, successful career, money, wonderful experiences, health, energy. I guess I want what most everyone else wants.

Of course, my first thought as I write that is how selfish I am for wanting those things. That all I should really want is world peace, for the poor and hungry of the world to be taken care of, blah, blah, blah.

I guess I just need to accept that this is where I am now, this is what I feel, and I'm not the Devil for feeling what I feel or thinking what I think. I simply AM.