Rain? (Would like title ideas please!)

This is very rough. It is a 100% true story about what happened to my mom. I was very inspired, as I'm 21 and JUST heard this story for the first time. I need some critique please!!!

“Everything looks great! Looks like you have a big, healthy baby Mrs. Dennie.”
The nurse slides the ultrasound scope over Martha Dennie’s pregnant belly as she watches anxiously with her husband, Ron.
“And…and the sex of the baby?”
Martha swallows hard, awaiting anxiously the answer to her question.
“Well,” says the nurse, “Looks like your having a….”
The nurse squints her eyes and leans toward the screen, and Martha’s grip on her husband’s hand tightens.
“A girl! You’re carrying a beautiful, healthy baby girl, Mrs. Dennie! Congratulations!”
Ron smiles widely and looks happily down at his wife, beaming with pride.
“A girl! Another baby girl! Heather is gonna have a little sister!”
“Yeah,” she says, forcing a weak smile, “Another girl.”

Guilt. That was all Martha felt as she walked out of the doctor’s office. She felt so guilty for being so disappointed. She had wanted a boy so bad. She had just known that Heather would be a girl, that she would be a Jacob Wesley. But she had come out Heather Breann, a beautiful blonde-haired, brown-eyed little girl, and Martha had been ecstatic. But Ron had made it very clear that he only wanted two children, and they had tried so hard to conceive a second. Martha had prayed day and night for a boy, and she was certain that after three years of trying to get pregnant, the child in her womb was Jacob Wesley. But as she looks at the sonogram picture in her hand, she knows there would be no Jacob, and tears fill her eyes and roll down her cheeks.

When Ron looks over and sees her tears, confusion clouds his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Martha? Everything went great!”
“I just, I wanted a son, and now we can’t have anymore.”
“Seriously, that is what has you so upset? That is the reason you’re crying? Martha, we have a beautiful, healthy baby girl who will be here in just a few months. She is strong and active. You should be happy she is healthy and right on track, not upset because she isn’t a boy. Jeez. Get your priorities straight honey.”
She knows he is right. She is ashamed of the way she feels, but she can’t help it. She watches, sweating just standing, as Ron climbs into the big Budweiser truck , waves and tells her he will see her at home, and heads back to work to drop off the big truck and retrieve his own small Ford. Once in her own car, the tears come freely. Without Ron to point out her foolishness, she mourns in peace the loss of her dream of Jacob Wesley. No blue nursery, no peewee football games. Ron wouldn’t have the athlete he’d wanted so bad, yet he was ecstatic about another girl. What is wrong me me. Get it together, Martha! But her attempt at a pep talk fails, and she sniffles and sobs as she puts her Oldsmobile in reverse and rolls down the windows, let the blazing Texas heat escape from the car, only to let more dry heat inside. Being pregnant in the middle of a Texas summer drought was the definition of misery.

She backs out of the parking lot of the hospital, blasting the air conditioner and coaxing it to cool down faster. She squints a little to see through the dirt on the windows. Everything is so dry, covered in dust. This was Fort Worth for heaven’s sake, not Lubbock. She drove slowly towards Crowley, to her parent’s house where news is awaited by her parents and her daughter. She turns on the radio and flips through a few stations before turning it back off. She’s not in the mood to listen to pushy advertisements.

She looks through the dirt streaked glass at the blue Texas sky. Fiercely blue and cloud free. Not one cloud. Not even a fluffy white one, much less a little grey rain cloud. Texas hadn’t seen rain in months, and everything that blurred past the windows was dead and brown. Birds didn’t fly, the sat on wires, beaks open, exhausted just from breathing. Dogs lay on porches panting, cows and horses lounged sweatily under sparse trees, tails flicking away parched flies. Everything was dehydrated, dying, miserable. Given the day she was having, this angered Martha. Couldn’t anything go her way?

She looked up at the sky again and she sat at a red light, and taking in the endless blue said,
“Well, God, if I can’t have a boy, can I at least have some rain?”
She paused, as if awaiting for a response, and still not seeing raindrops thumped back against the headrest and said,
“Yeah, that’s about what I figured.”
 She drove the last mile to Clark Road and finally turned into her parent’s drive. She put the car in park and looked out at her father’s huge organic garden, which he was struggling to keep green in this drought. A flash of sunlight bounced off a little gold head as Heather raced between rows of squash. Martha watched with more love than she ever knew she could feel as she got out of the car and watched her two-year old daughter inspect every inch of the garden for vine weeds, her grandfather lumbering slowly behind her. It was cute; Heather was tiny, her Papa towering over her at 6’4”, his hands taking up her entire back as he bent to show her the different vegetables sprouting from the ground.

About that time Ron pulled up, got out of the truck and walked towards her.
“Hey,” he said, then gave her a kiss. “I’m sorry if I was harsh earlier. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just think there are more important things right now than the sex of the baby. She’s healthy. That’s what important. I mean, look at Heather. Look how much we love her. And now we get another beautiful little girl. Cheer up, honey.”
She looks down at her shoes, said “I know,” as Ron kisses her on the forehead and goes into the house. Martha sits on the bench and lifts her shirt to reveal her pregnant belly. She’s so miserably hot and any air on her skin is relief. She is horrified as huge sweat drops roll over her stomach, all just from sitting. She watches her daughter work in the garden with her father. She has so much energy for such a little thing, scampering ahead of her Papa, asking questions about every plant, bug, and animal she came across, in sentences structured far too advanced for someone of her age. It was like talking to a little adult. This makes Martha smile a little bit, eases the ache in her chest only slightly. There will never been a little boy on Heather’s heels.

Martha looks at the thermometer on the brick to her left, reading 110º, then looks again to the sky, blue, cloudless, unmarred, arid. “Not even a drop huh?” She closes her eyes and leans her head against the brick wall, sweating just by sitting. She suddenly hears a crack of thunder, and immediately opens her eyes wide. Rain begins pouring down in sheets. Her father comes running to the house, and stands under the porch with her, leaving Heather dancing in the garden in the mud. “Good gracious! Have you ever seen such a thing?” Martha doesn’t hear a word that he’s said. She’s standing stiffly, eyes open wide and mouth agape, staring at the water falling from the sky. There is still not a single cloud in sight, and the sun is still blazing down.

She steps stiffly forward, off the porch and into the water. It’s not a mirage. It’s really water hammering from the vacant sky. It’s ice cold. It’s really on her face, soaking her clothes and her hair and blurring her vision. She isn’t sure if the water running down her face is from her tears or from the rain. As the water washes over her, her guilt, disappointment, feelings of loss, are all rinsed away. “It’s a miracle.” Two minutes after the words leave her mouth, the water stops as abruptly as it started. Her father scratches his head, and wanders back out to the garden, mumbling to himself about how “it’s the darnedest thing he’s ever seen.” He picks up a mud covered Heather and swings her around, telling her about what the brief shower will do for their garden.

Martha walks into the house, where Ron is sitting on the couch watching TV, oblivious to what has happened. He looks up, and remarks,
“You’re wet! Did your dad get you with the hose?”
“No. It rained.”
“It what? Just now?! The sky is clear!”
“Yeah. For about five minutes.”
Her responses are robotic, as she is still in shock. Ron races outside to inspect the wet grass and empty sky for himself, and Martha picks up the phone. She calls the Eckard’s drugstore two miles down the road, where her mother works as a pharmacist. When she gets on the phone, she says,
“Mom, did it rain there?”
“Is this a joke, Martha? It’s been unbearably dry for months. Why do you ask?”
“It rained here. For like, five minutes.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line, then her mother quietly says, “Miracle,” before saying she must return to work and hanging up the phone.

The phone beeps goodbye as Martha sits it back on the water-stained coffee table. That rain was a message. Straight from God and just for her. She walks back outside and sits on the bench next to Ron. He puts his arm around her and they both breathe in the smell of grass and fresh rain. And as she lays her head on his shoulder, she feels no more grief about not having a son. She is filled with joy with the fact that she is having a second daughter. She says a silent prayer, thanking the Lord for the sign, for helping her to change her heart. For cooling her off in this heat. For giving her a daughter, who she would go on to name Hailey Elizabeth. For the little blonde miracle still playing in the mud in the distance. For all the blessings in her life that she has taken for granted.

Four years later, when they are surprised with a third, unexpected child, Martha never doubts that it’s a girl, Hannah Rose, and for her three daughters, she is overjoyed.

Author's Note

PLEASE, I can handle critique. I want this to be my career, help me out here y'all!

Reviews

[Wendy Seames Garner]

Your story brings back memories of my own pregnancies. When I was pregnant with my first, I wished for a girl. I planned to name her Kimberly. This was before use of ultra sound, so it was a surprise when James Robert was born. Pregnant again, I crossed my fingers and hoped for a girl, but instead Brian Michael was born. Pregnant for the third time, I just knew it would be another boy. We couldn't afford anymore children, so my husband had a vasectomy before the baby was born. Though I didn't think I would need it, I changed my girl name from Kimberly to Jessica. When Jessica was born, it felt like a miracle! Though we were only able to keep her for eighteen years, my little miracle was the world to me. We were so blessed to have had her in our lives.

Just two points you might want to look at:
1. "Birds didn’t fly, the sat on wires, beaks open, exhausted just from breathing." I think you meant: (they) sat on wires.
2. "There will never been a little boy on Heather’s heels. " Did you mean: There will never (be) a little boy on Heather's heels.

[Coyote Poetry]

This is a very good story. I agree with the logic and the reason for the story. A healthy baby is what is needed and we should be happy with the good things in a life. Thank you for the outstanding story.
Coyote

[Chris]

"She had just known that Heather would be a girl, that she would be a Jacob Wesley." - "girl"? or boy?

It reads well - especially from the middle to the end.

[Tate Morgan]

So many think on girls with the same disappointment. I have a granddaughter two daughters and a son i have as much fun with one as the other,It is something ingrained in the human condition that wants to have boys it is not because they are inferior.We all like to see another like us and to have the second chance to grow up.many women pay too much attention to a mans wishes and desires We don't know any more than you what is best We just tend to make our minds up easily and go with it,. Boys are a lot of fun but a lot of trouble too lol