Four years ago, a friend requested to interview me for a local paper. The topic highlighted was having daughters only and the expectations of the ‘African family set up’.
I’d just had Raine, my second daughter and reactions of her being ‘a girl… again’ were still fresh. It was a deal, but not a big one. I mean this was just the second child. I could get a third child and it could be a boy, right?
I wasn’t in a desperate state just yet. Still, the story became juicy because my mouth slipped and I gave information I shouldn’t have. The story carried the day with an image of my two daughters and I plastered on it. I have never been less proud.
To be African or modern?
Fast forward, four years later and before you we present… a third girl (Grins). So is this a desperate situation? Hmmm. Many will say yes. I would agree too if my husband and I craved a boy so bad we let it affect us, but we don’t. We accepted whatever baby would come before I conceived.
Yes, we would have preferred a son, but the odds are 50-50, right? No guarantees. You get ready for whoever comes and accept it. That is what is yours. I am looking forward to discussing other things other than sons or the lack of them. I’d like to think that couples with sons also crave daughters, or don’t they? It’s the experience we seek, not meeting a supply order.
Protecting my girls
So, last week my friend called again. “I’d like an anonymous view on how having three daughters affects your marriage.” (Eye-roll) “Oh ya? Sure!” I promised.
I did give her my views, only this time I didn’t make her story juicy, no pun intended. Born a second daughter, my mother went through enough back in 1986. I wasn’t going to do the same.
When my girls are all grown and they go through archives of my published work, I’d like them to know that I have loved them from the beginning of their time. Nothing less.