Sloane’s Birth Story | {part I}

I can’t write about your birth earthside without first writing about when I first recognized your sweet presence. There I sat in the balmy dark front yard under the light of a full moon mere days away from your “embaby” transfer date, and I prayed. In the welcoming quiet of the night sky, I closed my eyes in the midst of the swirling IVF hormones and the pandemic fears, and told you that I fiercely loved you. Hoped you would choose to stay with us. But that it was your choice. And I would love you forever either way.

And then you chose to stay.

I was so sick much of your pregnancy, but every time I dragged myself out of bed, I knew we were fighting together. I knew my body was fighting to sustain you, and that you were fighting to grow. But despite the sickness that made it nearly impossible for me to function, your presence was gentle. Sweet. Tender. You felt ethereal and otherworldly. And you continued to choose to stay. With me. With us.

So as I process and write your beautiful, yet hard birth story over the next week, I first remember that you, darling baby girl, were the product of hard-won battles with my own fears, the answer to prayers we weren’t even sure how to pray, and the sweetest 3 pounds of sunshine. And through it all, you chose to stay.

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