My Favourite Piece of Family Art
A secret and a confession.
I’ve been sitting on some exciting news.
News that I still can’t believe I’m privileged enough to share with you all.
My partner and I are expecting a baby girl this May.
For this “advanced age” couple, she is a surprise. Even more so, she is a gift. The closest to a miracle I’ll ever get.
After years of hopeful trying and medical intervention, we’d all but given up on this dream.
“What’s the point of anything?”
That was my first waking thought for months.
The vision that buoyed me for so many years had given way to hopelessness, and an existential crisis.
The refrain—no, demand—of my heart was “God, if you’re not giving me a child, you’d better give me something else.”
For many months and years I tried to find my “something else,” pouring effort into travel, business, my art. It never filled the void, and frequently left me feeling disillusioned and bitter.
Pouring effort into travel, business, and my art never filled the void, and frequently left me feeling disillusioned and bitter.
After my fifth fertility treatment (a round of IVF that deep in my heart I knew would fail), I found myself alone in my pretty, tidy house.
A house that still smells faintly of fresh paint, and that I’m somewhat embarrassed to confess…
…has no family art on the walls.
Surveying those empty walls, I wept bitterly that I would never have family art in my home.
Would there never be anyone I loved so irrationally, so lavishly, as to adorn my home with their likeness?
Given a 2% chance of conceiving on our own, the shock of a lifetime unfolded eight months later.
Our personal miracle.
A hard-won gift that I didn’t give myself.
And while it wasn’t my first thought upon discovering I’m pregnant, you can’t imagine my joy in dreaming about my own family art.
And now, I can present to you my first piece of family art. Isn’t she precious?
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