I can’t believe I’m writing a letter to you. After all, you’re just blastocysts in a freezer. One little AB and three BBs. But to me, you’re so much more than that. You’re our chance to complete our family. Our chance to give our daughter the amazing gift of a sibling. Our hope.
Maybe you think I’ve forgotten about you. After all, it’s been more than two years since you were frozen and safely tucked away. Maybe you think I got my miracle baby and I’ve moved on to leave you forever frozen in time. You think I didn’t choose you.
But the truth is that you’re a part of me and I think of you all the time. In the daily whirlwind of raising a toddler, you cross my mind often. She is so precious to me, so you must be precious too. But I don’t yet know you. Are you a little boy with dark curly hair like me? Or are you a miniature version of your sister who favors her daddy? Can you possibly bring us as much joy as your sister has?
And what if you aren’t healthy? Or you grow up to resent the way you were brought into the world? Or will you break my heart if you aren’t strong enough to survive? What secrets do you hold, waiting to share with the world?
My life is ordinary in many ways. But in addition to the ordinary, I have you, question marks suspended in time. Who would have thought that our hopes and dreams for our family would be sitting in a freezer in Rockville, MD? This is real life, even if it seems like a sci-fi novel. I spend my days changing diapers, listening to the Frozen soundtrack for the 100th time, and occasionally sending positive vibes to you, wondering if we’ll meet in this life or the next.