When we first knew of your existence, you were a zygote, one of seven fertilized eggs that resulted from our second attempt at IVF. A single cell, half Aba, half me.

We loved you already–well, the possibility of you–and when we learned that you were still going strong on day 3, we transferred you to what would be your home for the next nine months.

There were three others that made it to day 5 and were frozen.  Three other potentials that are awaiting the same fate as you (we hope–though we know the likelihood of all three making it is slim).  We love the possibility of them just as we loved you in those early days, perhaps even more because we now know what they could turn out to be. How smart and curious and brave. And I’ve had glimpses of how you could be as a big sister. How you kiss your baby doll and stuffed animals. How you show your affection with Aba and me, toddling into our open arms and snuggling into our necks.

We have plans for those embryos, your potential siblings, but we know very well that our plans don’t always work out.


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