It’s a Girl.

It’s a girl.

The scariest words I ever heard.

I wanted a boy.

At the time, I already had one boy, so I knew what to expect.

But that was not really the reason.

I was afraid.

Afraid to raise a daughter.

“I hope you have a girl, so you know how difficult it is.”

“I hope you have a girl, so you will understand.”

“I hope you have a girl, so you will see what you put me through.”

I was terrified.

And I believed the lies.

I never thought I was a problem child. (I really wasn’t – but that’s for another post.)

But I thought if I had a daughter, we would not be close.

I did not know how to be a mom to a daughter.

That is why I wanted a boy.

Mom was close with my brother.

Their relationship seemed so easy.

Ours was forced and never genuine.

There are only a handful of times I remember my mom showing genuine compassion towards me.

I hang on to those times.

But if it was so difficult for her, that meant it would be difficult for me.

That is what I believed.

I believed moms were closer with their sons.

I believed moms loved their sons more.

How twisted is that?!?

I know I am not her, but sometimes those thoughts crept in.

Genetically, I am half her.

I am choosing to believe most of that “half” lies in our looks. 😉

I choose every day to live differently.

I strive to be the most kick butt version of myself, for my daughter.

So, she knows that she can do great things.

But mostly, so she knows I will always be in her corner.

I will always be her biggest fan.

Even when she hates me through her teen-aged year, I will be there.

She will never question my love for her.

God willing, I will be there physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I will be there, like mine wasn’t.

I did not want a girl.

I needed one.