Is it ever OK to actually say you want to have a girl?

By ANONYMOUS

Prince Charles knows exactly what he wants when it comes to his new grandchild.

After using the very royal word, ‘splendid’ to greet the news of the Duchess of  Cambridge’s pregnancy, he didn’t hold back on his hopes for the gender.

“I really hope it’s a girl,” he told The Telegraph. Right before laughing off suggestions he was being ‘a bit biased.’

Strange isn’t it for someone to be so overt about the sex of a new baby. Maybe it’s the grandparent’s prerogative.  Although at a St Patrick’s Day parade, when pregnant with Prince George, the Duchess of Cambridge was overheard saying that while she wanted a boy, Prince William wanted a girl.

Either way, it feels a bit scandalous to actually put words to a feeling/wish SO many people have . Most of us feel like it’s something we have to keep quiet, for fear of causing offence or heading for disappointment.

Take this pregnant anonymous poster who recently contacted us because her wish for a baby girl was making her feel really, really guilty. But unlike Prince Charles, she hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. Well, not anyone she knew.

Instead she made a list of the reasons she wanted a baby girl instead of a boy.

Here’s what she said:

The fact is: I don’t want a boy. I’ve had this feeling before. When I was pregnant with my son, now four, I’d tell everyone that I believed I was having a boy to avoid disappointment. For me. And maybe everyone else?

Of course my son was born and I LOVED him. I love him, still. But now, second time around I’ve gotta say I’m pining for pink.  Probably because we won’t have another child. Two is enough. And this is my last chance. My final lap.

I haven’t admitted it to anyone else. I couldn’t. I can’t. Of course, I told my husband that I hope it’s a girl. He may have also spied the pink nappy bag I bought that’s sitting in the nursery (which – I reassured myself – can always, totally, be used as bathroom bag if it’s a boy). But I haven’t truly admitted, perhaps not even to myself that if I have another boy, I’ll be totally and completely gutted.

And this is why:

1. Girls are a reminder of what’s beautiful. 

A female baby that’s smudgy in the face or skinny in the legs or has forcep marks all over her head is always called ‘beautiful’. Not ‘bruiser’ or ‘a real, little dude’. Because she’s born with the expectation that she’s going to be gentle and just, well, lovely.

2. I get it.

I’ve been on her journey. I’ve got a pretty good idea of what lies ahead for my future daughter. Does that mean I have more to offer her than a son?

3. My mum.

I think a girl would remind me of my own mother and the relationship we had. Also, the things I hope to do better. I feel a different obligation with my son. It’s more about fun, running, cuddles and boundaries.

4. Movie nights.

I want to watch Frozen with my little girl and talk about the complex underlying issues with my workmates. Right now, I stare blankly and have nothing to add to the conversations. I’m missing out.

5. Dolls.

I don’t care if she doesn’t even like them, but I want my toy cupboards filled with a little more Dora and a little less Thomas.

6. A friend.

If I had a daughter, I’d look forward to us being ‘friends’. Real friends. She’d be someone I could share my Women’s Weekly’s with. Someone to share my lunch with. Someone to give my makeup samples to. Too much pressure? Maybe. But I can hope, surely.

7. Dress up.

I want to dress my daughter up before her primary school’s Book Week in a Madeleine costume. And ten years later, help her find shoes that match her formal dress. Boys = suits and arguments over haircuts. Boring.

8. Someone to watch over. Someone to watch over me.

Older mothers often say their son’s leave them for dead once they’re released into the wild and find their wife. Daughters always remember their mothers and care for them in ways she may not even realise.  Lovely.

9. The Club.

“Oh, you had a girl”. The way Smug Mothers of Girls (SMOGS) all flirt with each other over all their wonderfully girly-filled lives. I want to be one of them. I want to be part of that gang.

I tell anyone who asks that as long as my baby is “happy and healthy” then that’s all that matters.

But that’s not all that matters.

I want little pale pink dresses hanging from the cupboard, tiny frilly Seafolly cossies stuffed in the bottom of our beach bag and mini sparkly party shoes in our shoe rack.

I want a girl.

Got a confession to make? Tell us and we can publish it anonymously. Email your thoughts to Kate at kate@mamamia.com.au