It All Comes Back to You

Round we went. Here we are. So familiar, but for different reasons I deliver the bag. There's a definite shift from over ten years ago. Back then I passed the sterile contents and said, "Do your thing!" Now, I said my final goodbye. 

Life. How it evolves.

Days later a text flashes across my phone, "I'm officially infertile. Let's celebrate!" I laugh at Dave's follow up comment, "Now we're both infertile.” I shake my head by the difference in him, me, and us. We're both smiling over infertility!  

Throughout the years we've been asked if we're going to have or adopt more children. In the first three years we didn't think about much other than therapy, but whenever the question was asked, our answers were similar. In our later years with Aviana, our decision gained form. 

About six months after Aviana died, I asked Dave if he'd have a vasectomy. I nonchalantly dropped it on him one night after missing my cycle for over a month and a half. While in the back of my mind I'd maybe figured the reason (a sudden burst of month long running without matching my eating) it still freaked me out.  

At the time, he thought it was too soon after her dying to make that kind of decision. I was slightly taken aback because I thought we were on the same page about another child. He agreed that we were, but commented how he didn't think any counselor would recommend a decision like that so soon after. As much as I didn't think we'd change our minds, I understood where he was coming from. 

A couple months later, Tahoe happened and all was put on the back burner.

This past December my cycle was late again. While I felt I knew the reasons, none that included pregnancy, this definitely prompted us to pick up where our conversation last left. 

Once the high five-jump around-excitement subsided from my negative pregnancy test (another full circle shift from ten years ago) we came together about the vasectomy. Although our minds were pretty darn solid, we gathered all past thoughts into one well-rounded conversation. 

We laughed and cried as we remembered, described, and imitated all the very things which made our girl uniquely her, which few truly know and remember. These are the very characteristics that forever string us together. They are the ones we hold closest; those which some might forget, but few ever will.

Dave and I talked about our front-runner: adoption and even IVF with egg donation. We considered freezing some should I die and he remarry. We spoke of what it would be like to raise another child with special needs, or a healthy one who ends up with special needs. We were honest with each other. After these past years, we don't have it in us again, especially with taking care of our parents and each other in the future. We imagined the rest of our lives with a perfectly healthy child, but one who'd live with a forever shadow. A lovely little shadow who fades in and out at various times and in certain places...just as she now does. But with another child, I’m sure Aviana's presence would be brighter and more frequent, if that's possible. 

We thought of our kid snowboarding, hiking, during the holidays, or of us just plain staring in awe as they smile, move their arms and legs, walk, run, talk, eat and enjoy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or say, "hi mommy." We imagined all he or she would bring to our lives and all we could give. We also thought of the pain in seeing all this child could, while Aviana couldn't. We're realistic so thoughts of screaming in the middle of the night, back talking, moms tore up from the floor up, and parents who don't have enough time for themselves as individuals, or as a couple swirled too. Many say, "But you won't have anyone to take care of you when you're older." And if that child chose to, that's true. We'll be taking care of ourselves. Or we may be alone should one dies sooner. 

We reflected on ourselves as parents before the accident, after, and how different our perception on life is. We thought about my mom and Gary as grandparents, and of Rainey. There were of course thoughts of Tahoe, and all I experienced growing up here. My wish was always to share this with my child, to see all I love through their eyes.

This time around was so different from when we were planning for our first child. We see things through more realistic lenses. We're hoping to shape this part of our lives the best we can and include those we truly want in it. 

In the end, it all came back to Aviana. For us, if our child isn't her, we're just not interested in any at all. 

"If I can't have you, I don't want nobody baby."

~ Bee Gees

When we met we wouldn't have envisioned our lives as they are today. Despite the hardship, we're good. No, we're better than good, we're great! We have all we want and need, and Aviana is a constant reminder of who and what matters most. So until we see her again, we'll live each day for what it is... A gift.