Thank Heaven for Little Girls by Nannette Croce

I have one child. All through my pregnancy I assumed––maybe even hoped?–-for a boy. No special reason, except I was a woman––obviously–-and I had an older sister. I grew up with a male cousin living next door. Just close enough to make the male world appear mysterious and exciting without any of the downside of brotherhood.

I gave birth to a girl. As most mothers, once she was there in my arms I felt no disappointment, but what surprised was the immediate connection. She was a female with all the same parts functioning in a way I understood. In the first few weeks of life, females––thank heaven I was warned in advance––may even menstruate slightly.

Of course, no parent knows fully what to expect as a child grows. She’s taken a few turns I didn’t or at least I don’t remember taking. But things like her relationship with her Dad, her later love/hate relationship with me, her first love, her first breakup, followed the path I knew they would.

My daughter graduates college in a few weeks. When she left us, four years ago, she went long intervals without calling. I didn’t panic. She needed to establish her independence. In this last year, though, she calls more often. We talk mostly about her future, how to transition from college to the real world, where she will look for jobs.

Instead of feeling threatened by my advice, she seeks it out. This is her rehearsal for the next phase. Some women prefer the childhood years. Not me. This is what it was all for. All the intervals of wakeful nights. All the arguments, frustrations, tears. From here on our relationship will continue woman to woman.