This straw hat was like a breath of fresh air for our domestic. After eight years, we finally had all our girls skilled and sleeping through the night. To finally feel rested was peaceful and calm, and fairly a bit strange. My husband David and I began deliberating our readiness to finish growing our family. Finally, life became wiedly for us, and we were busy with our four lovely daughters. However, over the sequence of several weeks, we both started to develop a firm conviction: perhaps our family was not entirely whole.
It was during brief moments that the feeling struck us most acutely. As we were strapping everybody into the van or coming together at the dinner table, we would suddenly sense that someone was inattentive. It wouldn’t go away. We were aware, on some level that we wished to make one more effort just one last time for the child we had always intended having.
That twilight, after we had long established our choice, we met our daughters to communicate what we felt inside. We knowledgeable them, “We require your help.
We offer you to join us in prayer, asking the Lord to send our Abram this time. Nine years ago, before our first pregnancy, we had chosen the name Abram. The girls regarded the request seriously. Each night, they prayed meticulously for a baby brother. They would even sneak in an extra line to their prayers during meals And please remember to send us a boy this time.” It touched us deeply to hear their innocent speeches asking God for the same thing that had been in our hearts for years.
The first 20 weeks of gravidity were expressively charged. We devoted considerable time to imagining what life would be like, whether it involved another girl or finally a boy. We were thankful to be expecting again, but the enthusiasm of knowing the baby’s gender was intense.
I was very nervous when the big day finally inwards. My mother, who is employed at the hospital, was to come for us outside the ultrasound department to offer me one final comforting hug. As we checked in, I could sense the rising tension.
Upon entering the room, David told the ultrasound technician that we had four daughters already and this was our last chance to have a boy. With a warm smile, she showed her clear sympathetic of the meaning of this appointment for us.
The moment the shade floodlit, I tried to interpret the monochrome figures. I thought I caught sight of somewhat like a small penis in a brief look. I stopped breathing for a moment. I was on the verge of tears. I collapsed in tears of pure joy before I could even get a word out.
I met myself for just a moment to steal another glance, and upon seeing it again, I broke down in tears once more. While David was still trying to maintain his composure, he faced the technician and inquired, “Can you confirm what we’re looking at?” With a smile, she nodded her head. That was all it took for me. I lost control of myself once more, weeping with better intensity than I had ever done before.
At one instant, another nurse entered the room and softly asked, “We’ve heard a lot of tears from this room, they’re happy tears, right?” While I cried and could hardly respond, I did give a nod. There was no doubt: it was the gladdest day of my life.
We sustained to request that the technician return for another check, to confirm that it wasn’t just our imagination. At last, David smiled and asked, “Would it be excessive to receive that in 3D?” She chortled and said that it was the first time someone had asked for that.
Later that day, when we went to collect our daughters, my eldest directly spotted my swollen eyes. She later confessed that she believed I had been crying over another girl. However, upon sharing the news with them, the room erupted in excited shrieks. Our second youngest, who adores all pink and sparkly, felt a bit dissatisfied at first. With a pout, she said, “I don’t like baby boys.” However, in just a few days, she had completely changed her stance and was as happy as everyone else.
