Why I'm Hoping for a "Mermaid"

As a child, I was convinced that Ariel and I were one. We were the same person, and I was so sure that I was a mermaid that I would sit on my bedroom floor pretending to give my voice to seawitch, “Ah ah ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhh” as I lifted a yellow goldish bouncy ball into the air acting as if it was the visual of my voice lifting up to Ursula.

During the summer, I would cross my legs at the ankles to make sure I could swim like a mermaid refusing to separate my legs to the point of sinking at times. I was going to be a mermaid. I was a mermaid. You would NOT believe how pissed I was when I found out that my mom wanted to name me Ariel and my dad crushed that with, “I’m not naming my kid after an antenna.” Aerial does not equal Ariel. Thanks, nerd.

I kid, Dad. Love you… but like – COME ON 

In the midst of all my dreaming and planning (I am such a planner that I follow paper planners on all my social media) as an adult, I came across a maternity shirt that I quickly pinned on Pinterest stating “We hope it’s a mermaid.” I dreamt of the day I got to wear that. Little did I know that it would be a long time before I would get to wear it, if ever. So, that shirt embodied this dream of a little thing flipping around and swimming in my belly, and I kept hoping and hoping that it would come to fruition. 

Well, along the way, the mermaid began to mean more than just the dream and the shirt that started the dream. You see, along the way, I have tried alternate methods of just the good ol’ fashioned way of making a baby. I have used medical treatments. I have used acupuncture. I have gone to an energy healer where I learned that I need to work on my sacral chakra which is the water chakra. Mermaid. I needed to ask my inner child what she wants? To be a mermaid. 

I learned that in the fertility world, there are different magical creatures associated with getting pregnant without treatment (or while on a break): unicorns. There are beautiful water creatures associated with IVF babies: flamingos instead of storks. (Why? They’re more expensive than the plain old white birds that come along to bring you babies and these cost a lot more and come with a lot of flair - designer storks - if - you - will). I have learned that rainbows represent babies after loss. These rainbow babies are the beauty after a storm. 

Well, it’s been raining nearly four years here... there’s an ocean of pain that I’m navigating through, but as a sweet friend’s mom once said to her during her infertility path: “Smooth seas don’t make for strong sailors.”  Even in the midst of the pain we’ve been going through....Even if the ocean represents the tears I’ve cried during this long path...I know that one day there’s a mermaid that will show up in that ocean eventually. 

During our chats, on nights feeling hopeful, we agreed on a girl name first: Aria. It’s Hebrew for Ariel. It also means Lion of God. A fighting mermaid. Get it, girl. Rar. We also agreed to James for a boy. It means one who follows, or supplanter. That has nothing to do with a mermaid, but there have been some storms we have weathered. Perhaps James follows this long battle of grief. All I know is that these names are on my heart and I think of these babies every day. If you’re a praying person, and you’re praying for us, then I hope you’ll pray for these names specifically. If you’re not, then when you wish upon a star at night, I hope you’ll send a wish for these names specifically because I know they’ll be here one day. 

As each day goes along, we are hoping for a mermaid: Our own beautiful magical creature from our own journey in our sea of pain. He or she may be from IVF, or adoption, or on a break from treatment, but that little one is ours already and we are never going to stop swimming.