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Editor's Note

Blessed with boys By Kimberly PorrazzoPublished: January, 2010

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I have a tiny pink dress in my hope chest, size 3-months, that has never been worn. I bought it before I ever became pregnant, for the daughter I was sure I would someday have. The tags are still on that dress, purchased 23 years ago, because I am the mother of boys. I believe there is a bond among mothers who have all boys. Maybe it’s a deep-rooted desire to have at least one child of each gender. More likely, I believe, it is a bond we share, like war veterans, because we’ve had to defend the wholeness and completeness of our families. For me, it began in the delivery room. “You have another son,” the doctor announced. Another son – as if I’d won the consolation prize. My second-born was welcomed into our family with the same love and affection as our first. While I was sure that if I had another boy he would look exactly like my first, he was his own little person. He looked different. He felt different. I had two different children. They just happened to be of the same sex. The recovery-room nurse immediately joined the campaign. “So, this makes two boys, right?” she asked. “You’ll have to give it another try for the girl. They have ways of ‘helping’ to make a girl, you know.” Her voice lingered in the room, even after she left. Friends, family, even strangers would smile as I pushed my sons in their double stroller. They’d always ask when my husband and I were going to try for a girl. The implication was that our family wasn’t complete. I admit it. I assumed we’d have one of each. I had planned for it: A boy for my husband and a girl for me. NEXT PAGE >>>

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