What It Means To Never Have A Daughter

When we found out our third (and last) baby was a boy to join his two older brothers, I realized the plain fact that I would never have a daughter. Three boys. That was my story. This was my calling. I was not only accepting of that challenge, I was thrilled.

Not thrilled because I didn’t want a daughter. My heart would have exploded with love for a little girl. And not because I hadn’t envisioned my life as a girl’s mommy. I had. I would have been an awesome girly-girl mama because a girl is what I’m familiar and comfortable with. 

I’d dress up for tea parties, and wear the tiara. I’d learn the dance moves so I could practice for the recitals. I’d teach her how to wear makeup, how to shave her legs, and how to mend a broken heart.

BUT, my heart is not lacking because those activities are not my story. They’re not what I’ve been called to do. My role from now until forever is to dress up like a superhero and run races in a cape and a tutu (because I’m still a girl at heart). I’ve learned the techniques for winning sword fights, memorized the names of more dinosaurs than I knew existed, spent hours going round and round a train table, and built castles made of LEGOs. I do all these things with a happy heart. Not at all wishing I was doing anything else, with anyone else. Not wishing they were anything other than my sons. I was meant to be each of these boys’ Mama.

My boys teach me things I never knew or never experienced as a kid. They help me push past my own insecurities. They compliment me and see me in spite my flaws. With them, I am challenged to overcome my fears of camping, bugs, and dirt because I just want to be with them, doing what they love. I get to be a soccer mom, practice ninja moves and laugh until my belly hurts over gross things. I get dirty making mud pies, and I pretend to be the princess in a castle with my three prince charming(s) to save me from the tower.

Never having a daughter means…

I’ll still teach my boys how to have a tea party and wear the crown. I’ll learn the plays out of their playbooks so I can practice for their flag football games. I’ll teach them that makeup makes a girl feel pretty, how to shave their face, and how to mend a broken heart.

Not because they’re boys, but because they are my world. They are mine, and I am theirs. I simply cannot imagine my story going any other way. A girl would have been a welcomed gift, but that doesn’t mean a piece of me is missing something. I am completely full. Completely content. Completely in love with my three boys.

My challenge as the only girl in the house is to teach my boys to love and respect women. To show them what a strong, independent female looks like. And shape them into kind, sensitive, and thoughtful men. But if you think I wished for each one of my boys to be anything other than exactly what they are, you’re sadly mistaken.

So to answer the many, MANY questions we get asked…

No, we really were not trying for a girl. And no, we really aren’t going for the girl next time. And no, no, no, our last was not the result of some last minute Hail Mary at a football game.

The honest truth is, I’ve always envisioned myself a mom of three. Gender had nothing to do with that dream for my family. I have always wanted to be the house all the kids wanted to come to. To be the mom that baked cookies on a random Tuesday for no good reason other than cookies hot out of the oven are my ultimate comfort food. I wanted a noisy house full on Thanksgiving and Christmas morning.

Today, my house is noisy, just like I’d hoped for. It is the home that all the kids like to come to. I bake cookies on random days. My house is full on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’m not just ok with the fact that I’m the only female in our home, it fills me with so much joy every single day. So although some may think I need a girl. I really, really don’t. What I NEED are these boys. Just them. And forever is the ONLY thing that will never be enough.