It’s me, your mommy. We haven’t even met biologically yet, but I know you’re out there. You haven’t met your physical form yet. I don’t yet have your tiny cells implanted in me. Or perhaps you won’t be carried by me at all. Perhaps someone else will carry you in her womb, but I will be chosen to raise you and nurture you through childhood and your life.
It’s important to me to start this dialog now. I believe your souls are swirling around, waiting to embody. I’m preparing myself to deal with loss before joy. Does that make me a pessimist? I’m trying to be realistic, even as I address the spirits of my unborn, not-yet-conceived children.
I just wanted to say that I have so much respect for you — and I know we will meet. I feel like there are more of you than I will actually meet in this lifetime. I pray I’ll have the strength to accept the situations that emerge.
The process of preparing myself to carry a child is bigger than me. It takes a community to carry my body in preparation to carry one or more of you, my future children. The doctors, the therapists, the friends and family — they are all supporting and caring for me and your dad to get us ready. It isn’t easy. We are older and my body got sick and isn’t able to conceive life without assistance of science and medicine. It’s hard on me and your dad but it’s worth it. It was he who said “it would be a shame not to just try to see if we could try.” He was right. We don’t know what we don’t know until we try. So far, with the injections to get me to create eggs, I’m feeling good. These eggs will be the starting point for you to embody.
Dear babies — I want nothing more than to nurture and love you. I’m afraid of the unknown but I’m also afraid of missing the chance to welcome you to earth and humanity.
I trust that I’m ready when you are.