“ So!”  

I can tell this conversation is  about to suck by the big, bright,  eyes and giant smiles, 

“ when are you two going to have kids?” 

Why  does society shove this  duty so forcefully down our throats?   Why is this  assumed on us? Can we please normalize not asking every single woman or young couple  this question? What if it hurts? Because it does. It really, really does. 

 Cue stomach drop and emotional ball in throat. 

“ oooh, “ hold back tears. gulp. pause. breathe.

“I don’t know. I’m auntie Christa right now!  Maybe we’ll see what  the universe has In store for us.  It’s just not the right time.”

A sharp look to my mom, “Awww, I’m sorry you  won’t  get any grand children!”  sympathetic Laughter ensues from the family. what a fantastically ignorant comment from a drunk family member. cool, cool.

Hold back urge to scream. 

“Can we change the subject please?” I know what you’re thinking. Rude, right? Well, unfortunately, the society we live in engrains this societal norm so deep into our brains that most people don’t stop to think… oh wait, this might not actually be a reality that A. this couple can have or B. this couple wants. That family member of mine was so enthralled in her own happiness of her grandchildren, she couldn’t imagine a life without them… I can’t blame her for that. I’m happy for her.

I’m a millennial, and our generation is in the middle of a baby boom, thanks to the pandemic  lockdown.  It feels like we’re surrounded by newborns, big bellies and glowing new parents, and don’t get me wrong. I am beyond thrilled for my friends, genuinely. I love being an auntie, with all of my heart and soul.

I always wanted children. I’ve dreamed of that miracle of carrying a little bean inside of my  body, and growing a relationship with whoever they want to become. Sam would be the best dad- playful, filled with dad jokes. 

 The accident changed everything. Not only are we  financially drained from horrific US Health”care” – if you want to call it that… But I am in no physical shape to carry or even get pregnant. Can you imagine a hemipeligic pregnant lady?? NO, THANK YOU.  I know I say I can do anything, but I’m sorry,  not that. So our ship is sailing away, and I’m climbing the age ladder.

A video came across my instagram feed the other day, of a girl talking about being diagnosed with brain cancer in her 20s, and her life being put on pause during treatment, missing out on the valuable  life experiences of her 20s.  A life coach  then went on to speak about grief taking shape in different forms. We typically recognize it  as  losing  a person  in our life, like a parent, uncle or grandparent. However, it can also look like grieving a life of our own that we lost, or even   time we thought we should have had- and that resonated deep with me. He continued to explain grief like a rock in your pocket- a weight that you feel constantly. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it’s too heavy to bare. And as time moves on, the weight feels less intrusive. As we help others carry their weight or grief- by sharing our story and inspiring others or letting others know they aren’t alone in this feeling, it lessen’s our own weight. 

So, I hope, while  this is a hard, and extremely personal post to share, I hope it  will bring some peace and awareness to others. If you’re going through a similar, difficult time of grief, you aren’t alone.  It takes a village to raise the best types of humans, and we are the village. Yeah Team Aunties & Uncles!!

I hope people  can begin to pause, with a little grace, before making assumptions about couples  choosing whether or not to have children. You just don’t know what everyone is going through. 

I guess, right now, while I’m in no shape or form able to dive into this life of parenthood, I’m/we’re not writing it off completely or giving up entirely. I do not think my body would handle or approve of IVF, but there are plenty of parentless children out there in the world who will eventually need a Christa and a sam, when the time is right.