At just about twenty-one weeks, she’s the size of a banana, or an heirloom tomato, or a grapefruit, depending on which week-by-week description you read online.
Our journey to this exciting place has been a long one. We talked about becoming parents early in our relationship, but because of differences in age and temperament, the answer then was “not now.”
Instead we moved from Michigan to an apartment in Anchorage, and Liesl began classes in aviation maintenance. A year later we moved to a house in Eagle River, and then in 2009 we moved to Girdwood, where Liesl had found work as a mechanic.
Then a few years ago, two of my doctors asked, on separate occasions, “Do you want to have children?” This time, our answer was, “Well, maybe.”
Many long conversations later, we were ready to say, “Let’s try.”
As I’m sure you can imagine, “trying” was much less exciting—and much more expensive—than it is for straight, fertile couples. But it has its own magic—the magic of science, I’ve started calling it.
We’ve had wonderful medical care, both here and in Seattle; some of you, when you heard the news, said, “Aha! That explains it. All those trips to the doctor—and visits to Seattle.”
Now that I’ve broken the news here, I hope to write more about this amazing experience of creating a whole new person; holding this secret has contributed, I believe, to my bad case of blogger’s block. At least, that’s what I’ve told myself!
Photo by Robin_24