Sons

There is something special about a mother and son relationship, just as I know for a fact there is something special between a father and daughter, that I can’t put my finger on. It’s not that a mother loves her sons more than her daughters, not at all, but there is something deep seeded and completely undiluted.  

Perhaps the thing is, with daughters (for mothers) there is some minuscule amount (no matter how we would deny it) of wishing and hoping they don’t make the same choices we did or that they join the teams or groups we didn't, have a hidden talent we always wished for.  However, with sons, that thinking isn’t applicable so there is no amount of anxiety or wishful of what could have been tethered to that love.  

When we decided to go for our third child we knew there was a very real possibility we would have another girl and we would have loved that.  John had convinced himself that he would be a father of three daughters and I told myself I didn't care either way.  When I was pregnant with Loretta and Caroline I never once felt I knew for sure what I was going to have.  I always called my bundle of joy "the baby" when I talked about them moving or kicking.  But when I was pregnant with Sam, before I knew he was a boy, I was referring to him as "he" or "him" in my mind from very early on.  I began to realize that secretly I really wanted a boy, but I didn't know just how desperately until 18 weeks along when we found out the sex, something we hadn't done for either girl. 

I had admitted, at least to my self, that I wanted a son and decided that if there was going to be even one millisecond of disappointment if this baby was a girl I wanted it to happen mid pregnancy, not on the baby's birthday which should only be pure joy.  John didn't really want to find out the sex, but supported me and almost as soon as the technician put the wand on my belly she said "it's a boy!".  It was pretty easy to see since Sam was pointing at himself, practically screaming "get rid of the pink mama!".  I was surprised by my own reaction to this news.  I knew I wanted a son, but I had no idea just how desperately until my little man was confirmed.  I sobbed with happiness, moving so much with my own laughter and tears that the woman could barely finish the exam.

I'm a daddy's girl and proud of it.  I miss being close to my family so much and a girl always needs her mom, but deep down I'm a daddy's girl and I know all about that wonderfully special father/daughter connection.  And it was pretty clear to me even before I got pregnant with Sam that Loretta and Caroline both were well on their way to a wonderfully special father/daughter relationship with John too.  It's even more obvious now.  John relates to both of them so well and on such different levels.  John and Loretta are both naturally athletic and energetic.  They love to be outside and explore and collect rocks and leaves.  John and Caroline connect on a more emotional level.  It's more subtle, but they just seem to get one another.  There are times when they both just need their quiet time and sometimes Caroline pulls into the inner shelter of herself a little and when that happens it's often John who brings her back out of her shell. 

I think more than anything, I wanted that connection too.  Like the one I had with my dad, like the one John has with the girls, which will only grow stronger over the years.  Like the one my mom has with Paul.  Sam is emotional and stubborn, tender and sweet, loving and funny, destructive and adorable.  He's this little man in my life who is forever sitting on my lap and loves and dotes on me, battles and defies me, teases and tests me and cheers for me like I'm a super hero.  I'm completely wrapped around his grimy, car crashing, little boy finger and I love it.