How I failed to have a daughter by Kylie Orr

Thanks, Elizabeth for posting this wonderful article. This is my exact thoughts and feelings and furthermore explains to everyone how I do not in anyway shape or form regret not having a daughter. I don't feel like I'm missing out. And, if for any (not intended) reason should we become pregnant again, I would, honest to goodness, hope for a boy as much as girl. My boys have one another. Brothers. A team. I guess what it gets down to is that most people feel as if what they have is the best way to go. So, with this in mind, I'm sad for those that don't have brothers. 3 of a kind. Not knowing any different...this is what I would choose. I'm always trying to come up w/ something clever to say when people ask if we are going to try for a girl. As if having a girl, would somehow make our family "perfect". As if what I have isn't perfect. Because what I have is perfect. I'm sure of that.

How I 'failed' to have a daughter

• Kylie Orr
• May 13, 2009

Essential Baby blogger Kylie Orr

Until I had my three boys, I didn’t realise that having one of each gender was the pinnacle of parenting. If complete strangers are any sort of gauge, it seems my husband and I have failed dismally in this arena.

I actually thought we were pretty clever for specialising in one variety but it seems there is a pity party out for us because we don’t have a “pink” one.

“Wow, three boys! You have your hands full! Bet you're hoping for a girl next time?”
“Are you going to go back for Number Four to get your daughter?”

Trying to convince complete strangers that I am perfectly content with my family just the way it is, seems to be an otiose exercise. It is assumed I am somehow missing out or lacking because I am the mother of all boys.

I am from a family dominated by the female assortment. I have two sisters (and a brother), my father has two sisters, my mother has two sisters (and a brother). My sister has two daughters. I always assumed I would have a girl. And yes, I know I am not the one who chooses gender but I believed there was a predisposition for girls that ran in my family. An assumption based on nothing remotely scientific.

When my first son popped out, I was surprised and elated, just as I would have had he been the willy-less variety. I never saw it as my exclusive right to have a girl; in fact I never really put much thought into it.

When our second son was born, the pressure mounted. I mean, brothers are lovely and all that, but people assumed we’d be compelled to try for number three so we could “get” this elusive girl. We were always hoping to have three children, so when I was up the duff with said third child, imagine the weight of expectation from family, friends and people I’ve never met in my life – all rooting for me to finally get their long-awaited for girl. Perhaps rooting isn't the best choice of words.

“I know you love your boys, but wouldn’t a girl be nice?” was one family member’s comment. I am certain it was harmless and came from a good place but it takes away from the child that is due to be born. They have been dunked by a wave of a disappointment before they’re even in the world.

And yes, a daughter would have been just as loved and adored as our third son. It would have been different. We’d have lots more pink stuff in the house and perhaps more fairy princess garb. And I wouldn’t be so outnumbered.

The other all-time great line is "A daughter is yours for life; a son is yours until he finds a wife." A saying that is not only ridiculous and inaccurate but based on the notion that children are our belongings. I don't know about you, but my children are on loan. Sometimes I think they have been loaned by the devil as a test to my patience, but most of the time I see them as borrowed from the child-Gods. We have the honour of raising them (or completely ruining them!) and then we hopefully hand them over to the world as well-balanced, empathic and responsible adults.

I know parents of girls get the same kind of mindless babble but it seems to be more directed at the husband who seems to have “lost out” because he never got a son. No-one to kick a footy with in the back yard; no-one to carry on the family name. I often hear “wait til they’re teenagers” bandied about when people are made aware of an all-girl family. I was actually a very reasonable teenager. My brother was the challenge in our household.

Parents of “both” genders have occasionally dropped the “aren’t we clever” comments which I find hilarious. Like you had anything to do with it. If the gender of your offspring was a measure of IQ, then I think we need to rewrite the history books.

One of the carers from my son’s crèche, let’s call her Jenny, told me her daughter just had her fourth son. When he was born, the mother cried and so did Jenny, “We all just so wanted a girl” Jenny said. “But he's lovely all the same.” I was horrified. Imagine being that child. Maybe he’ll never know that was his mum’s (and grandmother's) response when he was born, but shouldn’t a child be welcomed in to the world with big open arms because of (or in spite of) what falls between their legs?

I accept gender disappointment is a real thing. Some people long for a particular gender for many reasons; many that we may never understand. Perhaps your relationship with your own mother was dysfunctional, so you’d prefer a son to a daughter? Conversely you may have a strong bond with your mother and would love a daughter to forge the same relationship? Maybe you’d love to be an AFL star but have passed your prime so would like to live vicariously through your son who you hope will be a superstar athlete? Maybe you just really like pink? Or blue?

It would be frivolous to dismiss the momentary sadness of never having a daughter. This is not to take away from any of my gorgeous boys, but having a daughter was always something I thought I would have. When I delve deeper and think about the reason I would like a daughter, that's where the irrational thought process blows the Richter scale. I would have liked a daughter because I like to shop and have coffee in cafes. Wow, could there be a more superficial reason? Whose to say any daughter of mine would like to do the same? Whose to say one of my sons won’t enjoy meeting his old mum for a coffee in a café now and again? And, um, what happened to friends and sisters? And husbands?! Plenty of people for me to have a shop and a coffee with! Actually, I retract the statement about my husband. He hates shopping and taps his foot all the way through a cafe visit as a way to accelerate the process.

Ultimately, none of this is logical. Just because you have a girl, does not mean she will like pink, want to wear fairy dresses, enrol in tap dancing or go shopping with her mum. A boy will not necessarily roll around the backyard, kicking a footy with his dad and build stuff. Above all else, they are people. They have personalities exclusive to them, they are not merely gender stereotypes. Girls play football. Boys like to read. Weird, isn’t it.

I know some people would just like to experience parenting what they don’t already have but isn’t this endemic of our society? Always wanting something we haven’t got? Maybe it’s all that advertising that shows the perfect little pigeon pair next to the perfectly groomed parents in their display-home house with their celebrity-chef-inspired-dinners? Painting pictures of a better life if you just had that bigger house, that nicer car, that pretty daughter, that handsome son...

The compulsion for people to comment on the make up of your family is endless. I am told it is not exclusive to us “one gender” families. People who have one of each are told they don’t need to have any more because they apparently have everything now. People with single children are labelled as selfish or cruel for not giving their child a sibling. People with large families are recommended to stop breeding by passers-by!

For people who have trouble conceiving, have lost children or have had ill babies, I am sure the gender debate is not just superficial but offensive. A healthy baby is what we’d all love, surely?

So, if you feel the need to make a comment on a family’s makeup, just as a way of filling a gap in conversation, perhaps take a breath and... shut up!