One Plus One

When you are the parent of an only child you sometimes receive inquiries as to whether or not you're going to have another.

I can say that during my daughter's ten years, thus far, I haven't been asked quite as often as you might expect or imagine.

But I've thought - to myself - to others - that I wasn't done.

I've thought - surely - surely I'm meant to have another child.

But life goes on.

Things change.

This is not something I have shared publicly.

Not something I have written about before.

I didn't experience infertility.

Not that I'm aware of.

I never moved to investigate.

Maybe that was what was happening.

Maybe not.

But I am the person who stops to pause when I see a beautiful baby and everyone is shouting about their ovaries.

Because I only have one.

Yes. Read that again.

I know, you're like, you told us already.

But no. I have one ovary. Not just one child.

One ovary.

One set of tubes.

One.

Plus.

One.

Wait. What?

And imagine this.

Imagine finding this out while shivering on the operating table after your C/Section.

Imagine your doctor asking, 'When did you have your ovary removed?'

Even better?

Imagine your response. MY response.

'Who? Me?'

And so.

One plus one.

My daughter is my only.

And will likely forever be.

I worry, though, about what she is missing.

My brother is one of my favorite people in the entire universe.

That's a tall order, I know. But it's true.

And I often would wonder, what about the future? What about when we're gone?

Who will she have?

And I know, I've been foolish with these thoughts - because she has family. She has cousins and people who love her beyond words.

But these days I worry more.

I wish she had someone to talk to.

Someone to compare notes with.

Someone to snuggle with.

Someone besides me to lay beside her at night.

And then.

I'm thankful, too.

For she's really a miracle.

I mean, I had no idea.

No idea what was missing inside of me for my thirty-something years.

Not a single clue.

And so, what a blessing.

To have a baby with no issues or problems.

No worries and concerns (beyond my own anxieties, which is a whole other aspect of my pregnancy and postpartum).

And to not even know what a miracle she truly was until she was in my arms.

One plus one.

Equals two.

Every.single.time.

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