After losing her mother in ovarian cancer, Tiffany Gaines imagined that motherhood would help her rebuild what was lost. The idea of having a daughter became more than one hope – became an emotional salvation. So when the NIPT test revealed that he was expecting a boy, he did not feel like a neutral event. I felt like another wave of sadness.
But Gaines, now a mom of two sons, is widely welcomed for the emotional sincerity of her story. In a heartfelt Cylinder InstagramShe opened for her original heart, her battle with depression after childbirth and how she came slowly to embrace her identity as a proud “mom boy”. And judging by the response – over 690,000 views and 5,000 likes – he hit a nerve with many parents.
Related: Kylie Kelce shares her sincere reaction to “Frustration of Gender” during pregnancy: “I shouted for a solid 30 minutes”
When your motherhood dreams do not match your reality
Gaines’s story has resonated so deeply not because they are rare – but because he rarely said loudly. While many parents hope for a particular sex, few openly recognize the sadness that can come when these hopes do not align with reality.
According to the relative psychotherapist Claire Law, who spoke NewGender frustration is more common than people realize. “Parental responsibility often imagines before his experience, shaped by social expectations and images of what should look like parental responsibility,” he explained. “When reality does not match these expectations can lead to frustration.”
In the case of Gaines, she didn’t just imagine a daughter – she was trying to keep her mother’s legacy. He had named the daughter who thought he had. She wrote to her. He envisioned a new version of the bond he had just lost. Telling this dream felt like losing her mom again.
‘I wondered where my daughter was’
Despite the criticism of those who felt that he must be grateful, Gaines gave himself space for processing. Went to treatment. Restart the antidepressants. And when Brighton’s son was born, she did everything she could to embrace her new reality – putting a “boy mom” bracelet, seeking tips from her sister and looking for light moments.
Still, the bond did not come easily. “I felt like he was a stranger,” he shared. “I wondered where my daughter was.”
This line, raw and unspecified, hit a deep string. For many mothers, early post -childbirth period is already loaded with pressure to feel immediate love and attachment. Add unprocessed sorrow to the mixture and this pressure can be isolated.
A different result – with baby number two
When Gaines became pregnant again, he decided to do an early gender test – not to control the outcome, but to give himself time to process, privately and without an external crisis.
Her second baby was also a boy. But this time, he felt the connection immediately. “The relief came on me – that my soul was not damaged and that my heart was not three sizes very small,” he said.
With two sons, he bent completely in his new identity -technical carpentry, defining games and calling herself the “momchanic” of the house. It was not the motherhood he had depicted. But it became the motherhood that was proud to claim.
Related: This sex reveals it costs more than a mortgage – inspired by the voltage of the viral designer bag
This is not about gender – it is sadness, identity and stories we carry
Perinatal clinical psychologist Dr. Renée Miller has worked with many mothers who navigate the frustration of gender. In an episode of Momwell Podcast, explains“Gender frustration is sad.
It is a feeling rarely recognized in mainstream conversations – but one that is deeply human. The frustration, as Dr. Miller explains, comes from the mourning of a fantastic future – not from the lack of love for the child.
The Takeaaway: You’re not alone and you’re not broken
Speaking outside, Gaines reminded parents that frustration can exist exactly with love – that the presence of one does not delete the other. And in this way, it helped get away from the shame so many mothers are silently carried.
As she shared: “My sons suddenly didn’t look like girls or boys for me.
This is the kind of history of motherhood that we need more-not perfectly, but human and healing.