Eggcellent Mom Chronicles

One year ago, I walked into my doctor’s office with a lot of hope, and I walked out pregnant with a miracle.

Beryl’s first photograph wasn’t from the day she was born, or even from one of her ultrasounds. It was from when she was nothing more than a tiny collection of cells. Science is pretty freaking cool.

This week, I scrolled back through my photo album to revisit this part of the journey. It’s fun to joke about how many people were in the room when I became pregnant, but it’s actually pretty remarkable. And when I watched the video of my actual transfer, there it was: Beryl’s implantation looked like a shooting star.

I noticed it that day, a year ago. Out of all three of my transfers, this was the only time I saw it. I remember thinking it had to be a sign. Like somehow, she already knew she was going to be my shining light.

A year ago, I didn’t have Beryl’s name picked out yet. I didn’t know her face, her laugh, or all the little things that would make her her. But I knew in my heart that I was meant to be her mom.

And now, one year later, I know exactly who that little shooting star was.

I can’t imagine my life without her. One year ago, she was my biggest wish. Today, she’s my greatest accomplishment.