Roxanne:

Twenty years ago this morning, I was lying on a hospital bed waiting for the birth of my third child. My husband had left with the nurse to put on his scrubs, and I was left alone to think. It was a moment I'll never forget. For various reasons, my husband and I had decided that three children was enough. I was going to have my "tubes tied" after the baby was born via scheduled C-section. But, secretly, I had always wanted six children -- so, even though I knew getting my tubes tied was the practical thing to do -- I was sad.

A soothsayer once told me that he'd never met "a true earth mother" till he met me. I don't know about that, but I do know that I loved being pregnant. I'm wierd, I know, but I did. I loved the nurturing and nature of it all. I loved the movement in my belly. I loved the closeness that only pregnancy can offer, that unique closeness with another human being. And this would be the last day I would ever feel that kind of closeness.

We wanted a boy but loved our two daughters so it didn't really matter what we had. "We just want it to be healthy." If it was a boy, he would be named James Marshall Cook III and we would call him Trey. If it was a girl, we'd have to decide between the twenty or so names we'd narrowed down.

On the operating table, I felt them tug and pull and then out came a beautiful baby girl! She was healthy and strong and, did I mention that she was beautiful? Then the doctor asked if I was sure I wanted my tubes tied. "If you're only 99.9 percent sure, then you shouldn't do it." My husband was at my side and said, "If you don't want to, you don't have to." I knew he knew that I knew what he was thinking, so I said, "No, don't do it." I knew he wanted to try again for a boy... fine by me.

After they had finished with me and cleaned up our new daughter, my husband and I shared a few moments together just looking at her. She was so beautiful! We couldn't wait for her sisters to see her. We were over-the-moon happy! He left to tell the good news to those who had gathered in the waiting room. They told me he entered the room singing, "Roxanne!" My best friend was the only one who understood the meaning of his song -- "It's a girl!"

No, we didn't name her Roxanne (!) and, no, we didn't have any more children. We thought about trying again a few years later and even read literature about "spinning sperms," but we loved our family just as it was and decided that it was the way it was meant to be. Thank heaven for little girls!