When my mother pushed me out into this world, my father was immediately disappointed. He wanted a boy. He was so sad that he left the hospital even before my mother made it to her room from the labor and delivery ward. He wouldn't come back for another day, leaving his own wife - and mother to his firstborn - alone in her first moments of motherhood.
When my first child was born, we didn't "find out" beforehand. She was born a lovely girl. All were thrilled. When we had our mid-term ultrasound with our second child, we asked to find the gender. We were told, "it's a girl!" and the announcement was met with the question, "are you sure?" from my husband. And, when our third child was born (and we opted again not to "find out" gender), the words from our moms (who were both in the delivery room for each of our births!) "it's a boy!" brought sheer joy and utter bliss to my husband.
A friend expecting her second child is having another boy. She confessed to me, "I really wanted a girl." Another mama with all boys has said, "I'd have another if I was sure it was a girl." Or, when we recently found out good friends were carrying a baby boy after having had two older girls, we were thrilled.
To be sure, we git what we git and we don't have a fit. We are happy our children are, for so many of us, born healthy without complications. And, even with complications, we love our children dearly.
But, whether it's a boy or a girl: does it really matter? How did you feel when you found out "it's a boy/girl!"?