Slight Disappointments

Life is full of them, but if we dwell on them, we lose sight of what's in front of us that makes us truly happy.

I cried a little inside as my gel-lathered belly lay exposed on the ultrasound table. Child #3 was a boy. A wriggling, squirming boy with a rather large head compared to the size of his body. I turned from my husband to shield my eyes from his view, the wetness welling in them like an ocean opening up to swallow a toy sailboat. We already had two boys and this was to be our last baby. There would be no little girl in my future. I wouldn't be buying any cute dresses or baby dolls. I would be surrounded by dirt and dump trucks.

As I got used to the little life occupying my tummy, I came to know where he nestled his sweet little feet (directly under my left ribs) and when he was awake I'd have his two big brothers talk to him and they exclaimed they would read to him and show him how to play T-ball and all the things that big brothers do. And he'd respond by nudging my belly and I'd put the boys' grubby little hands there to feel him kick back and their faces lit up with wonder. Shortly after this he got a name, Connor, by which we called him often as we spoke gently to him. And he was so real to us. So lively. So wanted. The ache in my heart for a girl dulled.

Connor is 3 now. It's been nothing but the joy of my heart to watch the boys grow up together. Tyler is protective and nurturing. He often has made Connor breakfast before I get out of bed. He thinks of ways to include everyone in the games they play. Weston dares the other two to step out of their shells. He's the go-getter and his creative mind is always inventing new adventures. Connor is our laughter. He's very in tuned to feelings and is quite well at giving you a kiss and a cuddle when you need it most. All three together however intertwine to nurture each other and where one is weak, the others strong. When one falls, the others pick him up and dust him off. Sadness is nothing a little wrassle with brothers cannot ward off.

My Mom said a few days ago that I am having trouble letting go of. She was introducing us to my Uncle's old buddy from HS and she said "And this is Connor. He was supposed to be the girl." What the hell? I'm standing right there with Jason and the boys and Jason and I exchanged "the look." I bit my tongue but I'm still hurt by it. Imagine if Connor understood or she says something that bright down the road when he does? I'm just surprised she feels that way because we let go of the temporary upset of not having a girl in our family long ago. We absolutely love our boys! My slight disappointment is now aimed at my mother.

What Connor was supposed to be, he is. He completes and complements our quite goofy and fun-loving family of 5. One of many lessons the boys have taught me unknowingly is that dwelling in disappointment is losing time that would be better spent enjoying my blessings.