When we found out our sixth child was going to be a girl, my husband burst into tears and said one sentence that still echoes in my ears to this day.

He was crying.

I had never seen him like that before.

“And do you know what breaks me?” he continued. “The fact that my own wife is ready to sacrifice our child because she believes I won’t love her.”

I could no longer hold back my tears.

Michael came closer, held my hands, and whispered:

“If this baby is a girl, then she is my daughter. And I will love her just as I have loved the other five. Maybe I didn’t show it well. Maybe I understood it too late. But please, don’t punish her for my silence.”

At that moment, I understood for the first time how wrong we both had been.

For years, we had not been fighting against the gender of our children.

We had been fighting against our fears.

I was afraid he didn’t love us.

He was afraid his unfulfilled dream would hurt us.