March 3rd is hina-matsuri, or Girls’ Day, in Japan. This is the first hina-matsuri since Mio came into this world, and although we didn’t do anything special because we don’t have a hina-ningyo set (I have yet to find an affordable set… my parents don’t have one at home, either, so I’ve never actually seen one in person!), it was definitely a nice day for myself to reflect in gratitude for our little girl.
I have always wanted a daughter, for as long as I can remember… even when the idea of having children was still that of a distant future, I always imagined a future with a daughter. Of course, I would have been happy whether Mio had been a girl or a boy… but I definitely would have wanted to eventually have at least one girl. Any child, whatever gender they may be, is a blessing and I would love them no matter what, but I couldn’t deny that longing for a daughter… I have to confess that my worst fear going into parenthood, as horrible as it may sound, was that I’d only have sons! I couldn’t wait to have a sweet little girl that I could dress up and dote on… who, when they eventually grew up, I could have heart-to-heart talks with. Boys are great too, and a good number of them are Mama’s boys, but there is something so unique about the bond and relationship between a mother and daughter. I’ve seen my own relationship with my mother grow and take on an added dimension to it in recent years, one that is very much like a close friendship. My cousin once told me that a daughter is such a gift because they will be a lifelong best friend to their mother. I couldn’t wait to have my own daughter whom I could nurture such a deep, beautiful connection with.
During my first trimester when I was pregnant with Mio, I was anxious to find out the gender, but for some reason, I was convinced that I was going to have a boy. It was mostly thanks to all the old wives’ tales my mother fed me about how having really strong morning sickness is a sure sign that you will be having a son (completely unfounded, but for some reason, I bought into it), but I also had a gut feeling. I was of course prepared to welcome and love our baby no matter what the gender was, but perhaps my brain knew that deep down in my heart, I secretly yearned for a girl, and it was its way of guarding me and making sure I didn’t set myself up for even the slightest feeling of disappointment. (You can see how paranoid even the deepest recesses of my brain are….) So when the ultrasound tech at my 20-week appointment told me that I was having a girl, I was stunned and in disbelief for a few moments. I had to ask her a couple times how sure she was of that, because in my head I had already pictured having a baby boy and realized I had not even really let myself imagine the baby as a girl. She confirmed to me that from what she could see, it was pretty certain. As the information sunk in, my disbelief gradually turned into elation — I was having a girl! The daughter I had always wanted! My dream had come true. At first, I couldn’t believe it, but my heart soared and I felt so happy that I could kiss the sky!
And now, with Mio turning one year old in a few weeks, there’s still a part of me that’s in disbelief that this sweet, beautiful little girl waddling around me is my very own. She trusts and loves me unconditionally, and as she grows older, will study me as an example of a grown woman (although whether she decides to follow my example is completely up to her… I of course would want her to reach for greater heights and become much more). In time, she’ll go into my closet to try on my shoes and accessories, and sneak into my makeup and smear her face with my lipstick, just as I had done with my mother’s. Several years later, I’ll buy her her first training bra, and have to explain to her grownup things (but hopefully that won’t come too soon… yikes!), and someday, I may go shopping with her to find a wedding dress. I hope that no matter where we end up in thirty years, we’ll have the kind of relationship my mother and I have, where at least once in two days, one of us will find ourselves unconsciously reaching for the phone to call the other, where we can laugh together over silly things and confide in each other on more serious topics. I know that in between now and then, there will definitely be rough times, when she wants nothing to do with me, or think her friends are more worth her time, but I hope she will always know that I will always be there for her when she needs a place to come back to or someone to listen, and that she will never doubt how much I love her.
Dearest Mio, I dreamt you long before I birthed you. You are the daughter of my dreams.
