Chapter 3 - Sophie’s Birth Was the First Time I Saw Preston Disappointed
Our first daughter, Sophie, was born eighteen months after our wedding.
We did not learn the sex during pregnancy.
My choice.
Preston agreed.
During labor he was:
wonderful.
Held my hand.
Counted breaths.
Asked nurses thoughtful questions.
When Sophie arrived, red-faced and furious, I cried.
Preston did too.
But there was a moment.
Small.
The doctor said:
“You have a beautiful baby girl.”
Preston smiled.
Then something fell behind his eyes.
Gone almost instantly.
Nobody else noticed.
I did.
Later, while Sophie slept on his chest, he whispered:
“Next one’s my boy.”
I thought it was a joke.
I said:
“She’s six hours old.”
He kissed Sophie’s head.
“I know.”
“She’s perfect.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“But we’re not done.”
At the time, I heard:
I want another child.
Later I understood he meant:
the family is not complete until I get a son.
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Those are different sentences.
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