too late. But please don’t punish her for my silence.
That was the first time I realized how much we were both wrong.
All these years, we have not fought at all with the sex of our children.
We struggled with our own fears.
I was afraid that Michael loved us very much.
And he was afraid that his unfulfilled dream would hurt us.
And the worst thing was that our daughters grew up in the midst of these fears, gradually beginning to believe that something was wrong with them.
That night we cried for a long time.
Without blaming each other.
Without screaming.
Without taking old wounds.
We were just two people who had lived under the same roof for many years, but for the first time we had a really sincere conversation.
A few months later, our sixth daughter was born.
When the nurse put the baby in Michael’s arms, there was silence in the ward.
My husband looked at the tiny face of the newborn and cried.
His hands were trembling, but he held her with such
