i'M vERY fORTUNATE
Sometimes I play "would you rather" with myself. The latest, would I rather be less hairy or less sweaty. Definitely less sweaty. In fact, I was working on this plight when we decided we were ready for a baby. I was sitting in the dermatologist office asking her incredulously if I was going to have to be this sweaty and gross until after I have children? Pregnant, and supposedly equally sweaty herself (I doubt it punkin), she said she was afraid so.
I look at our now 9 month old and I am fascinated with her back story and I can't wait to tell it to her. How one half of her was harvested from her mother and the other from her father (both ordeals a back story to her back story). How she became perfect and whole in a sterile lab with neither parent fully or bodily present yet just enough of us there. How she survived a frozen tundra of a cryo-tank. And made it through the thawing process. Finally, introduced to my body that probably felt like an unfamiliar contemporary-style Airbnb for 12 weeks, awash with progesterone shots through needles the size of an oil drilling rig. And at last, I was a cozy cottage where she could make herself at home. It was like riding a bike without training weeks for the first time and then not even thinking twice before hopping on your bike, the trepidation of being unsupported long forgotten.
What I have not forgotten, is the call that the first embryo did not take. So much so that I think of our daughter as 2 of 9. Because there was one before her that survived the petri-dish and the tundra and the thaw, but not me. I won't forget that.
Despite that journey, I still get mad at her, still wish she'd sleep better, still gripe about what mothers gripe about. I sometimes catch myself and remember to be grateful because she may not be here. But she is. We could have lost her on any given chapter of her story but we didn't. Thankfully. Mercifully. The fact that I get to have even these unsavory feelings is incredible.
What was a mountainous process has been dwarfed by the miracle manifested in her angel face.
Those desert-dry pits I so desire will juuuust have to wait.