another, again, anew
When we were dating, then engaged, then married, I used to catch a glimpse of him and think—God, please send us daughters.
Because I had never met a man like him, so strong and gentle all at once, so humble and quietly confident, so genuinely kind and caring.
I watched how he treated his mother, his sister, his friends, and me. And I knew—with all the women who suffer father wounds, who never learn that they deserve to be treated with respect by every single man they meet—that we were meant to have daughters.
That he would be so good to them. That he would leave such a legacy of love to build them up for a world driven to diminish their worth.
Then God gave us a boy.
And another.
And another.
Then we were going to have two girls—two!—but they went home to God as quickly as they were here.
And then we had another boy.
Now we are having another son.
I realized I was wrong about raising daughters. Not that it wouldn’t have been amazing, but that it had to be the way he would change the world as a parent.
Turns out he is exactly the father that these boys need. A man who is loving and tender, who deconstructs everything that is wrong with our culture’s view of men and who builds up everything beautiful about what a father can be.
Nothing takes my breath away more than seeing the impact he has on our sons. They will change lives—of the women and the men they meet—because of how he has loved them.
And yes, we are having one more.
. . .
Our son is due on the Feast of the Annunciation, March 25th.
Nine months to the day before Christmas, when we remember how the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary with astonishing news of Jesus’ arrival.
Over the past twenty weeks—half a sick pregnancy spent pondering the prospect of an Annunciation baby—I’ve hearkened back to my art major days. All those medieval and Renaissance paintings of Mary being interrupted by an angelic visitor.
She is shown in the act of reading.
I used to think this was a symbolic trope, a quaint custom. She was reading the Psalms, art historians assured us. Or perhaps Isaiah’s prophecies about a virgin bearing a child.
She is part of the story, goes the explanation.
But this pregnancy and this one more boy have opened up a new chapter in my understanding.
She is letting go of the story she knew. She is turning the page on what was. She is dropping what came before. She is letting God write something new.
He is already and not-yet, this expected Annunciation baby. But he has already taught me the same.
Set down the book you thought you were reading. Turn to a new chapter.
This is not the story you knew, or even the version you thought you wanted. This will be ever better.
Behold. I am doing something new.
. . .
People’s reactions to this pregnancy run the range of ridiculous.
(When someone close to me proclaimed with a smile, “You’re just meant to raise all sons!” and I stared at her and asked, “Did you forget that time I gave birth to two daughters?”—it was then that I realized that I can never expect the world to understand.)
Every day people treat it like a tragedy—to raise all boys.
You should see the sad faces they give me, the consoling hugs, the sighs of disappointment. (Nothing turns a pregnant mother into a mama bear of fierce protection faster than that pity face, I promise you.)
Of all the tragedies in my life, I will never count that as one. I get to spend my life with the best man I have ever known, and I get to build a life raising five more.
What greater gift could I have been given? What greater gift could I dream to give back?
What better story could I help to write, from a book I never expected?
Great read. You comments really hit home. As a male, I saw, heard and felt very deeply all those looks of disappointment and sadness whenever the birth of a boy was announced (and other subtle and not-so-subtle ways that boys are regarded (or rather, disregarded) by the women who raise them). I’m not joking or exaggerating to say that was very wounding and caused a rather deep divide. As a male who grew up with a distant father, I looked to the women in my life. But it was clear I was only to be a second-class citizen there and never really welcome in their inner circle (although I’m sure it still would have been wounding and impact my relationships with women even if my father were less distant). Growing it, it was hard not to be resentful toward women as a result. In my case, I’m thankful that I was mindful enough and sensitive enough never to be tempted to translate that into violence–that sadness only deepened my empathy. But I could see how other men could end up there. So it’s not just fathers who are the reason people grow up disrespecting others.
Psychologists say that a person’s relationship with their mother may be the closest relationship they ever have, so to feel unwelcome there I think causes a pain that few men understand or may even be consciously aware of, but whether they are aware of it or not doesn’t change the fact that it can have powerful repercussions on their lives. Thanks for posting.
Thank you for writing this. Having just struggled through a terribly hard beginning to our fifth pregnancy, I seesaw between feelings of pain/anger and silent awe/thanks at the miracle of life. Reading this helped re-emphasize to me that it’s all a part of His amazing story.
Oh boy! I love your tenderness for Franco…..
Keep writing Laura, the world so needs it….
Laura–
Congratulations! I have followed your posts for a long, long time. They’d been inspirational and healing. As another Domer raising only boys–and having lost my only girl in my second trimester–AND as a licensed therapist dealing with infertility, grief, and loss, I love how you convey the influence of your husband on your boys. Yes, what an important role! And so true that others’ responses (to loss and to celebratory news) can’t fathom the depths you (we) have traveled.
I look forward to your continued posts…whenever they come!
Congratulations Laura and Family,
What a special blessing! I have 6 daughters. Our son was #7. People always make rude comments about having so many children because we must have kept trying to have a boy!! Not so… every child is a blessing. Enjoy your sweet family
Laura, your writing grows more and more powerful and exquisite with every piece you share. Congratulations on your pregnancy, and I hope and pray all goes well for a happy and safe arrival. He will be one more lucky boy to have you as parents!
What a great read! I can so relate to the stranger comment remarks. As a mom of 5 girls, I have heard more times than I can count “5 girls? Your poor husband!”; “5 girls, just wait til they’re teenagers!” I feel my body stiffen when I hear these. Why do people so quickly think of the worst scenario or that all teenagers are awful or that fathers can’t relate to daughters? I have so enjoyed our girls having a father who has shown them what a man of integrity looks like and how a girl should expect to be treated. Thank you for raising boys, who will give a girl all the respect and honor she deserves
Congratulations! And yes, it is so important for us to have men who are raised to love and respect and uplift women. This is a beautiful gift you give the world. The best of luck to you all and wishes for a healthy pregnancy and birth.