Five boys total.
I began to worry that I would never have a little girl. That I would never know what it was like to raise a daughter. I was living in the land of Buzz Lightyear, testicles, wrestling and the color blue. But I never gave up the idea of a little girl. There were so many things I wanted to teach her and ironically, so many things she would teach me. I just didn't feel like my family was complete without her.
So, I waited. I waited eight long years.
When I finally found out I was having Maya (a name I had picked out before I even had any children), I was beyond excited. Over the moon. And then when she was born, I remember marveling at how exquisitely female she was. How petite and perfectly formed were her eyelashes, her chubby nose and her full lips. She was so different from her brothers that it instantly quelled the nature vs. nurture debate that I learned in college. No one had to teach her how to be feminine. It was all wrapped up in her being.
And it was lovely.
I like to call her the best birthday gift I've ever gotten. You see, she was born the day before my own birthday. My 32nd birthday, to be exact. What happens when you share a birthday with one of your children? Your birthday gets celebrated jointly or its completely overshadowed by theirs. And you know what, I don't mind one bit. As I grow older, I realize that celebrating birthdays kind of suck.
Who wants to celebrate getting older? I don't like to contemplate age spots, spider veins and the fact that my eyes are getting a little baggy around the corners.
Now that I have my birthday buddy, my birthdays are so much nicer. But the first one after she was born will always be the most memorable. I celebrated it by eating sushi in my living room, surrounded by my loved ones, with a beautiful little baby girl nursing at my breast. Oxytocin, the love hormone, was flowing.
|I can't believe how beautiful and grown up she looks! Even while wearing a fur hat.|