Title: NEEDING HER
Genre: Women's Fiction
Word Count: 89,000
After finding out she’ll give birth to a second son, Victoria Logan is determined to make her third and final child a girl.
Victoria yearns to have a daughter, one who will fulfill her desire for a meaningful mother-daughter relationship, unlike the lackluster one she has with her own mother. She joins an online gender swaying forum, consults with a psychic, gazes up at the moon for just the right cloak of darkness, and tries out different lovemaking positions. During her quest, she battles pessimism from friends and family and a heartache that tests her grit and will.
On the gender swaying forum, she meets Lacey Dalton, the mother of two daughters, scarred by her infant son’s death and possessed with the need to bear another son. Lacey can’t risk a mere fifty percent chance at obtaining him. While considering high-tech options, she pursues a gender selection method her husband is morally opposed to, but that comes with an almost ironclad guarantee, violating the fragile trust in her marriage.
When Victoria and Lacey meet in real life, it’s an experience that offers both women perspective and insight into each other's worlds. For Victoria, Lacey is a reminder that there is no such thing as a sure bet; she must risk her whole heart for a chance at her dream. And Lacey confronts fate, and realizes that maybe this is the child meant for her.
I wanted to hear “It’s a girl!” for Christmas.
A sweet, baby girl that I would sing dreamy lullabies to, wrap in my arms, and snuggle close. She’d be a beautiful spring-time baby born just in time for Easter.
I envisioned my little girl wearing a dress with pink stripes over soft white linen. I could see her chubby cheeks, eyes as blue as mine, and my husband’s dimples. She would be the perfect match to our three-year old son.
“Are you ready to find out?” my husband, Ryan, asked me.
We were waiting at the doctor’s office for the twenty week ultrasound. Our son Wyatt played next to me with two dump trucks we brought along.“BAM!” Wyatt yelled, crashing one dump truck into the other. The loser
rolled down off the polished armrest of the chair, careening to the carpet.
“Wyatt, pipe down,” Ryan commanded.
Our son grinned up at his father, one side of his lips hitched up higher.
Ryan kept a watchful gaze on Wyatt, who resumed playing with his trucks. “I still think it’s going to be a girl,” my husband said, flipping through a sport magazine a little too briskly.
“I hope it’s a girl,” I said.
My husband gazed at me, horrified. “Victoria, the health of the baby is all that matters.”
“I know, of course, that’s the most important thing, but…”
“The baby is whoever he or she is, and we should be happy with whatever we’re given,” Ryan said.