“’Are they ALL yours? No boy?’
‘Yes, they are all mine! I was blessed with all girls!’
This scenario has played out time and time again when I go out with my four girls. At first it didn’t bother me, the stares or the questions, but then it started to chip away at me.
With each comment, chip, chip, a part broken off.
With each question, chip, chip, another piece crumbled.
With each comment, my daughters would silently absorb a stranger making me feel less because we were a large family of girls.
With each question, my daughters would internalize something they couldn’t yet grasp, but knew a stranger’s comments were making me uncomfortable.
On any given outing running an errand, all we really wanted to do was pick up some rolls of toilet paper, maybe a few animal crackers along the way to munch on through the toy department, and smell a few of the new smelly lotions.
Honestly, the last thing we needed was to be stopped, in our animal cracker eating tracks, to answer questions and listen to statements filled with opinions.
‘Wow! You have your hands full. Wait until they are older.’
‘Oh, their daddy is going to have a hard time when they are teens, watch out!’
‘Did you at least TRY for the boy?’
‘Are you going to try for the boy, you’re still young.’
‘Your husband must be VERY patient.’
My girls used to hear the comments, the negativity filled with each question and digest it all.
They heard the tone.
They felt uncomfortable standing there listening to someone question me…
But then they saw my smile.
A smile that stopped parts of me from chipping or crumbling off because of a stranger’s words.
There was no more chipping away, but rather those pieces were being built back up once I stopped allowing words to take something away from me.
My smile of confidence completed me once again.
My smile provided a reassurance that I was filled with joy having all girls.
My girls heard my words, filling them up with comfort, and they knew, with deep conviction, their mama was fulfilled each time she caught glimpse of one of her sweet girls.
They heard my laughter drown out the voice rather than engage in further conversation.
So, as my girls would continue skipping along, laughing and giggling through the aisles, I could only continue to feel blessed for each one of my silly girls and smile.
I didn’t need a boy.
I didn’t try for a boy.
I never wished for a boy or a girl.
I prayed for a child.
I am a mom.
I am a proud girl mom.
So, to all of those strangers who have stopped me, you know what I say?
‘I love it! It’s hard at times, not because they are all girls but because I am raising children…and I wouldn’t change a thing!’
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Hang in there mama by Ali Flynn. You can follow her journey on Facebook and Instagram. Submit your own story here. Be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.
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