A sad fact about many cultures around the world is that boys are often valued over girls. This ideal stems from ancient traditions where boys inherited land and were responsible for caring for elder family members. In these cultures, it’s common for parents to be disappointed when their new baby is a girl. Some couples keep trying for a son, while others in poorer areas hope their daughter will someday marry into a wealthy family that will take them in and support them.
I do not live in such a culture. Yet, whenever complete strangers see my husband and me out with our three daughters, they have the audacity to ask if we’re going to “try again for a son.” Now, I think these folks are well-meaning and mean no harm, and thankfully, my daughters are still too young to understand the implication of what’s being asked. But it still cuts me to the quick. Perhaps I’ve come to believe that every man wants a son — or at least everyone around him thinks he does.
If my husband does want a son, at least he’s courteous enough not to say so. When I first met him, he wasn’t much of a “man’s man.” He didn’t care about sports, cars, or fishing. Now, he enjoys all three, much to my dismay. I remind him often that I didn’t sign up for this as he spends four hours every Sunday watching football. His relatively new interests make me wonder if he wishes he had a little junior by his side to share in the festivities. But I try to give him more credit than that. I’d hope that he’d want a son for deeper reasons than simply having a sports buddy.
Why Daughters Are Enough (and More)
Before I found out my first baby was going to be a girl, I did hope for a son. My relationship with my own mother had been so strained for years that I didn’t feel equipped to parent a daughter — or at least not to have a healthy relationship with her. After my first daughter was born, I realized she was everything I ever wanted and needed, and she came into my life as a form of redemption. Now, I could participate in a healthy mother-daughter relationship if I chose, even if I was playing the opposite role this time around. For the record, becoming a mom mended my relationship with my own mother, and now we’re the best of friends.
My heart leapt for joy when I was pregnant for the second and third times, and the doctor announced that I was having a girl after performing my ultrasounds. In those moments of euphoria, I’d glance over at my husband to try to read his innermost thoughts. I was relieved to see that he seemed happy each time. When I’d ask him later if he was disappointed, he would answer, somewhat placatingly, that he just wanted “a healthy baby.”
Perhaps I’ll never know if my husband wants a son — and maybe he doesn’t even know himself. Any mention of adopting a child in the future, whether it be a boy or a girl, is quickly rejected as a possibility. Truth be told, I’d choose another girl, but I’d let him decide, just to see who he would select. Right now, with three young kids who demand all my time and energy, my perception of the future may be skewed. But as they grow, maybe my husband and I will both change our minds.
As for my three daughters, I adore having them. Not because I like to dress them up (though it’s fun, and they are mighty cute), but because I get to teach them how to navigate this crazy world as a female. My husband also plays a significant role in their self-perception and level of confidence, whether he realizes it or not. The traits he portrays to his daughters are the same traits they’ll seek in a future husband. I’m not sure there’s a more important job a man could have.
So why do people feel the need to ask if we’re going to try for a son? What is it about having a boy that people find so necessary? I no longer wonder. I feel no void in our lives and can’t comprehend what the addition of a son would do to make everything right with our world. Surely, I’d love a boy if I had one and would treat him equally to his sisters, but I simply can’t imagine what life would be like.
As I inevitably suffer countless inquiries into my future son-producing plans, I’ll continue to answer as I always have: that I love having my girls, and we’re done. The inquisitors will look sympathetically at my husband, as if to express silent sorrow for the exclusion he must feel being the only male in the house. I’ll continue to be incredulous at their reactions. My husband will continue to feel whatever he feels but refuses to tell me, leaving me to speculate endlessly about the subject. And my girls will hopefully never catch on that this world, despite all its advancements, still puts boys on a pedestal. I can only hope it all turns around.
As my daughters grow up and go their own way, my husband and I will be left with an empty nest. As daughters often do, they’ll stay closely in touch with us both and come around often to visit. Rumor has it that boys grow more distant from their parents as they marry and start families of their own. Perhaps my husband, if he ever did want a boy, will see the benefit of having had all girls. He says he isn’t sentimental in the least, but I’m convinced that when he watches our beautiful daughters play, he knows his world is complete.
