Sea Glass

Nichole Beaudry essays

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I lay there on the paper sheet as she squeezed the warm gel onto my ever-expanding stomach.

I lay there and I prayed…please let this baby be healthy.

I lay there and I prayed…please let this baby be a girl.

The slurping and squishing of the gel, the gray screen, and the endless chatter of the ultrasound tech did little to crowd out my silent prayers.

Photo, squish, photo, squoosh.

Please…another girl. Please…a sister for Katie. Let her have a sister. The sister that I never had.

Then came the words that we had prayed we’d hear, “the baby looks beautiful”.

Then, the words that I had prayed we wouldn’t, “what a sweet little guy”.

A boy.

Please no. Let her be wrong.

The chatter, congratulations and the crinkle of the scratchy paper underneath me did little to mute my sorrow.

I smeared at the gel…a boy.

I hastily dressed…not a girl.

I looked at Craig.

And I cried.

In all of my dreams, I never envisioned a son. I never wanted a son.

With each smile, each hug, each mischievous giggle, my heart has stretched further than I ever dreamed it would.

– Nichole Beaudry

My dreams held another baby girl. A sister for Katie.

I cried and grieved for my hopes of another daughter. I truly hated myself for feeling ungrateful for this healthy baby.

This boy.

This gift.

I shopped for him. I filled his closet with sky blue, khaki and chocolate brown clothes.

I came to accept all that we had been given.

And, of course, I loved him from the first time I saw him. I had never doubted that I would.

But, in the quiet moments during the middle of the night feedings in his room, my heart softened.

In the soft morning light, as he melted into me, my heart expanded.

With each smile, each hug, each mischievous giggle, my heart has stretched further than I ever dreamed it would.

Like sharp, broken glass, tumbled by the ocean current, my love for him smoothed and softened.

Sea glass.

I cannot imagine another day of my life without him in it.

My love for him is like sea glass.

My treasured boy has taught me that sometimes, out of disappointment, we find immeasurable joy.

Unexpected, endless joy.

I have a son. A beautiful, perfect, irreplaceable son.

And he is exactly what I needed.

My Matthew.

About the Author

Nichole Beaudry

Nichole Beaudry spends her days enjoying the small moments with her two children and uses their naptime to write about them. A former English professor, Nichole is now the assignment editor for allParenting, co-director/co-producer for Listen to Your Mother, Sacramento and co-founder of Sacramento Bloggers. When, by some miracle, she manages to find a few quiet moments, she writes on her own blog, , where she strives to capture the smallest, most amazing moments of life with her husband and young children.

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