I always pictured myself with a daughter. I didn’t just hope for a daughter one day, I flat out assumed I would have one. We would play dress up and do our hair and nails and go shopping together. She would ask my advice on fashion and boys and life and I would teach her everything from how to walk in heels to how to become a strong independent woman.


When I got pregnant the first time, of course I thought it was a girl, my mini-me, my future BFF. Well, that magical 20 week appointment came and I found out I was having a boy. I felt a slight twinge of disappointment but so far he was developing perfectly, and that’s all that really mattered. I was having a sweet baby boy!

The second time I got pregnant, I knew it was a girl. I just had that “mommy intuition”. Not to mention, every old wives’ tale pointed to girl, the Chinese Gender chart predicted a girl, and when my OBGYN first heard the heartbeat, she gave me a playful little smile and said “my guess is a GIRL!” She was a doctor, she had to be right! Suddenly my thoughts were flooded with pink and glitter and those cute little headbands with the flowers! I was going to get my daughter!


This pregnancy I was of “advanced maternal age” (love that term) so I was eligible for a DNA test early in the pregnancy that would be able to detect certain chromosomal abnormalities. The test could also determine gender. I was at work when I got the call. I answered my cell phone, heart pounding in my ears. The results were in and the baby did not have the disorders for which they tested. (Phew!) Did I want to know the sex? “Yes!” I replied breathlessly. “Congratulations Mrs. Hendrickson, you’re having…….a BOY!” My smile froze. And just like that, my life as I had always pictured it screeched to a halt and took a turn in another direction.

This was my final pregnancy. And I would never have a daughter.

I tried to dismiss the feelings of sadness but they were undeniable and real. Inevitably my practical side crept up and scolded me: “Geez Jess, just be thankful your baby is healthy. Don’t be so selfish”. I was happy he was healthy. Of course I was. But what about those mother/daughter mani and pedi dates I envisioned? To whom would I impart my wisdom on proper mascara application??

Fast forward about 7 months and I met the second love of my life: my perfect, healthy little baby boy. When I got home from the hospital, I held both of my boys together for the first time. At that moment I experienced such an overwhelming, euphoric feeling of unconditional love that I knew this is exactly how my life was meant to turn out.

I felt COMPLETE in a way I never had before.

So, thank you, you sweet little human being for coming into my life and completing my family. You are perfect. And everything in the universe has fallen into place with your birth.


And so my dear non-existent daughter, we won’t get to play Princesses but I have trucks to play with and bugs to catch. I have soccer balls to kick around and mud to jump in. I have ties to tie and forts to build. I have two amazing little boys to bring up in this world that doesn’t always turn out how you plan, but always turns out how it is meant to.

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