How a second boy made my heart full
When I found out I was expecting our second boy, I wasn’t surprised. Caleb is one of four grandsons in the family — not a single granddaughter yet. While I’d be lying if I said I never wanted a girl, I was genuinely thrilled to be welcoming another baby boy.
People often imagine the “perfect” family as one of each — a son and a daughter — but that’s just one picture. Families come in every shape and story, and the magic is that the puzzle pieces fit exactly as they’re meant to... even when it’s not the version society expects.
Still, because of that idea of what a family “should” look like, I got a lot of questions and reassurances. Most people said what they should: "Congratulations!" But others asked, “Are you okay?” or offered, “It’s normal to feel disappointed.” I knew they meant well, but I found it strange that anyone thought I might need comforting. How could I be disappointed? I was having a baby.
After suffering a loss the year before, my perspective had shifted. Once you’ve known that kind of silence, you stop caring about blue or pink. You just hope for a heartbeat.
That wasn’t always how I felt.
When I first found out Caleb was a boy, I was (embarrassingly) upset. I remember crying to Jerry, saying I’d never feel fulfilled if I didn’t have a daughter. I was pregnant and hormonal and hadn’t yet experienced what it meant to know your child, not just imagine them. I didn’t understand the depth of love that would come.
The second I saw Caleb, everything changed. The doubt vanished. The fears disappeared in a heartbeat. And when I learned I was having another boy, I didn’t cry or grieve or hesitate. I had learned what mattered. I knew I would love this second boy with the same all-consuming, heart-expanding love I had for my first. A different name, a different face, but the same joy.
Do I still feel the occasional pang? Sure. I’ll probably never go wedding dress shopping. I won’t have “girl talk.” I may not share the books I loved growing up because they’ll feel too girly for my boys. My mom and I are incredibly close, and sometimes I worry I’ll miss that kind of adult daughter bond.
But I also find peace in knowing that if we raise them right, our boys will stay close too. Love doesn’t depend on gender; it depends on effort and connection.
And honestly? Part of me was relieved. The idea of a daughter always thrilled me, but it also scared me. Girls can be dramatic, complicated. There’s pressure to teach them about makeup and fashion, things I know nothing about. When I found out I was having another boy, I felt something unexpected: relief. This, I could do. This, I already loved.
Will I feel a twinge of envy when I see baby girls? Maybe. Not because I don’t love my sons — I do — but because I’ll never know what that other version of motherhood might have felt like.
But here’s what I do know: my life will be full and beautiful with my two boys. The bond between brothers is something special. Caleb will gain a teammate, a built-in best friend. Someone to share toys with, to fight and laugh with, to grow up beside. That bond is priceless.
So to those who asked if I was okay: yes. I am more than okay. I am grateful. This baby is just as wanted, just as loved, just as celebrated as he would have been if he were a girl. Joy isn’t tied to gender; it’s tied to love.
I get to raise boys who will become men. I get to be the first girl they ever love. I get to learn from them, see the world through their eyes, and grow alongside them.
I believe I was meant to be a boy mom.
To my second baby boy:
You are not a consolation prize. You are not the version I settled for. You are proof that life rarely gives us what we imagine... it gives us what we need.
And somehow, that turned out to be you.
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