There are very few things in the world that last forever. Well, at least for the rest of the time that you're roaming this world anyway...
I used to believe that love lasted forever. I'm not so sure anymore. But I'm willing to give it another shot. I've had some very good examples and if it can work for them, why not for me?
But I digress...
When you think about the concept of "forever," it seems monumental. It takes a long time to decide what you want in your life that long.
And it should.
I remember being 17 and thinking that I'd like to get a tattoo. I'm not certain why I wanted one exactly other than that I was sure it would piss my parents off and, at that time in my life, doing so was very important to me....
But I'm glad I didn't. I'd have gotten some dumb cartoon character or something.
That said, I've been thinking about a particular tattoo for years. It started when my grandma died about 10 years ago. She was the most important person in my life. I've thought about her and deeply missed her every single day since she's been gone.
So, I decided that I wanted an african violets tattoo to honor her. And, as I had children, I decided that I wanted to incorporate them into the tattoo to honor my love for them. To honor the three children that I have. And the three that I didn't.
I suppose I should explain. I'm going to try to be brief, but if you want the whole explanation, you can visit the blog that I kept before and during my last pregnancy (www.tykesintow.com).
My last child was concieved through IVF (In Vitro Fertilization) using PGD (Preimplantation Genetic Diagnosis) to determine the sex of the embryos before they were implanted. I've always wanted a daughter and I decided that if I was going to be pregnant again, I wanted to make sure it was a girl.
Long story short, the day of implantation, there were four healthy embryos. The two female ones were implanted. The two males were not. Only one of those took (and she's adorable).
I never imagined when I started down that road though that I would mourn the loss of the other three embryos. But part of me does. And always will.
So, they're a part of me now too.
And, somehow, it helps to ease the pain. At least a little.
One half opened flower (for the daughter that didn't survive) and the two buds (for the sons that weren't implanted). My three living children are honored in three fully opened flowers.
I finally got the tattoo (which was 10 years in the planning) on Saturday.
I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful tribute to the people I love and have loved.
How do YOU honor forever?
Just Keep Coming Back.