When I found out I was having twins, before I knew what the sex would be, everyone said the same thing: “I hope you have a boy and a girl, so you’ll have both!” Never mind the fact that I already knew they were identical and there’s no way to have identical boy/girl twins; the assumption seemed to be that I’d want at least one little girl. I get it. I’m fairly girly. I like makeup and dresses. I was a cheerleader (and a cheerleading coach) and a dancer. Of course I’d want a little girl to dress up in pink and frills and sign up for all of the activities I did. My baby girl would be wearing giant bows and throwing back handsprings as soon as she could walk.
Spoiler alert: I had two boys. With a high-risk pregnancy, I had lots of ultrasounds, and I got sent home with more pictures of their boy parts than I ever needed. Now, the question we get all the time is, “Are you going to try for a girl?” When I politely say no, the other party is adamant. “I’m sure you’ll want a girl!” “The boys need a sister!” “You really don’t want a girl?!”
The answer remains the same. No. We are not going to try for a girl. And here’s why.
- We have enough children.
Seriously. The plan was always two kids. We decided that together long ago, and that never changed. We just happened to get two kids in one shot. So, no, we’re good. Two is the magic number. Schoolhouse Rock got it wrong.
- What if we have more multiples?
So say we change our minds and say we want one little girl. Fraternal twins are genetic and run in my husband’s family on both sides. Identical twins are a fluke and can happen to anyone, and I happened to be one of the chosen ones. So either way, the risk of having another set of twins is still there. And though I love my twins with everything I have, the idea of having another set of twin literally sends a chill down my spine.
- What if we have more preemies and NICU babies?
Our NICU story is in the past, and we made it through as a tough little family, but it sucked. A lot. And I’m really afraid of it happening again. The sleepless nights, the bad news phone calls, the setbacks, not being able to nurse or even hold my baby – yeah, pass.
- I suck at doing hair.
This is just a fact. I know my strengths and weaknesses, and combing hair is a weakness. Before I found out the babies’ sex, I told all my friends if they were girls, I would shave my head – one less head to comb. And nobody wants their daughter to be the one who goes to school looking crazy. I’m even bad at doing my own hair, which is why my default hairstyle is afro puff with a headband. Anything beyond that is out of my wheelhouse. Having boys has eliminated that task and I am eternally grateful.
- Estrogen scares me.
I think back on myself as a girl. I was moody and sensitive. The queen of slamming (well, my parents didn’t allow slamming, but dramatically closing) doors. And I was 100% certain that no one understood me. I can’t deal with that drama. And I believe in karma and that my daughter would be exactly like this. Plus, I coached middle school cheerleaders. They terrified me. There was so much drama I didn’t know how to begin to deal with it. I signed up to teach toe touches, not deal with the pubescent estrogen overload. Also, not gonna lie, kinda glad I don’t have to have those fun conversations about boobs and periods and whatnot. With boys, I can deflect the awkward conversation to their dad.
I love being a boy mom. I love my little family of four. I love my two little boys. Having a girl would’ve been fun too, but why assume every woman wants a daughter? I think I’ve got some pretty darn good reasons for being content with my boys.