I always wanted to have a daughter.   When I was a teenager and was daydreaming about having kids I always pictured myself with a daughter, never with a son.   Then I fell pregnant and the daydreams were constant, all I could picture was a beautiful little girl in pretty dresses singing and skipping.  

I gave birth to a lovely, healthy, energetic boy - Master C.   Master C was an absolutely gorgeous baby, blue eyes and blonde hair, full of laughter and fun, mischevious and loud and happy and unbelievably energetic.  I absolutely adored him.

When Master C was 6 months old I stopped breast feeding and within a week had the most horrendous period.   What I didn't know at the time was that the IUD I'd had implanted after Master C was born, came away with the period, and lo and behold I fell pregnant again.

And the daydreams began again.  I would find myself seeing that beautiful little girl everytime I folded clothes or washed dishes.  I could see the colour of her hair, hear the pitch of her voice, smell the wonderful frangrance of her as she cuddled me tight and I could feel her arms around me.

9 months later Master B was born, so wonderfully quiet and placid, so full of wonder and trust, so different to Master C, he would sit quietly and play and was totally content with everything in his world.  He was, and still is, the most pleasurable person to be around.

3 years later I fell pregnant again and the daydreams came again, I so much wanted a daughter this time.   The odds seemed stacked against me tho'.    My grandmother, a very wise woman, always said our generation would have all boys.   I have 2 brothers and a sister and between us we had, by then, 1 girl and 6 boys.   It seemed she was right - but still I hoped and prayed and dreamed.

By that stage tho' my relationship with my husband had hit rock bottom and he insisted I abort as 'he never wanted 3 kids'.   I absolutely refused and when the first tri-mester was over and abortion was no longer an option, he left me and our two little boys.

Every month when I went to the docs I asked during the ultrasound if he could see the sex, and "yes" he said, "I can see it's a boy".  The tune to 'My Three Sons" played constantly in my head.   I didn't stop hoping tho', I knew that sometimes the ultrasounds are hard to see and that maybe. just maybe, it was wrong. 

The pregnancy went well, but life was hard.  I had two little boys and was a solo mum.   I worked 2-3 jobs at a time all the way until 38 weeks.   For 4 months I worked 2.5 days in one office, and 2.5 in another, driving halfway across town in my lunch hours to get to the other job ontime, and then worked in a video store on weekends.   But we got through it.   When it got really hard I would sometimes wonder "why didn't I abort" and always the image of the little girl I wanted so badly would pop into my head.

When I was 8 months pregnant my doc became concerned because I had lost so much weight.   I should have been gaining heaps as it's the baby's time to grow, so he sent me to have hi-tech ultrasounds at our biggest maternity hospital.   Once again, I asked "can you see the sex?", and once again I was told "yes it's a boy".  The tune in my head got louder.

My baby was due on the 2 September, but everyone said it should come early as it was my 3rd.  But the due date came and went.  I was so exhausted and fed up with being pregnant that on September 4 I decided to go for a very long walk to see if I could help it along.   I told my best friend I was going and set off with my two little boys in hand.  We must have walked about 40 minutes, at a slow pace so I didn't wear the littlies out, when I heard a car horn behind me.   There was my bestie come to pick me up.  She took us back to her house and put the kettle on. 

While we were waiting for the kettle to boil my waters broke.   If she hadn't come and got me, I would have been standing in the middle of the street, miles from home, with two boys under 5.  Thank God for besties!!!

The labour went well and at 11.15pm I gave birth.  The doc was delivering 3 babies that night and so it was the midwife who actually did the delivery.   She placed the baby on my stomach and said "there you go love, you've got a boy".   I was so exhausted, and so resigned to the fact that it was a boy, I just layed there and cuddled my new baby.

10 mins later the doc managed to get back to me and he took my baby off to examine.   I was just laying there recovering when I heard him say from the other side of the room - "Darlene, you know this isn't a boy baby don't you?"

I couldn't believe it...... the midwife and all the hi-tech ultrasounds had got it wrong.   I had my wish - My Little Miracle - My Beautiful Wonderful Baby Girl.  

I named her Bethany - some books say it means "from the house of God" others "from the house of poverty" either way its appropriate.

Bethany is now 11 years old and I treasure and love her so much.   She is very willful and has had to stand up to two older brothers all her life so she can be quite a handful at times.  But whenever it gets hard I remember how hard I fought to even have her, how much I went through to bring her into this world, and how lucky I am that I have the daughter I always dreamed of.