I wrote this poem in February of 2022, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last couple of weeks. Here it is, so you can read it easily without leaving this point:

Going Gray

When my child asks
why my hair is going gray,
I will say:
“Those are my stardust streaks.”
I will tell her we’re all made
of earth and star stuff,
and one day, once again,
that’s what we’ll be.
And I’ll remind her
that it’s not a tragedy
to say goodbye, even though
it’s sad for a time,
because she can always
find me in the night sky.

At the time when I wrote it, we’d been talking about maybe trying for a baby, but hadn’t made a decision yet. We would, just about a week later. And what a journey we’ve had since then. One day, I’ll write about it, from start to finish, with all of its many ups and downs.

Today, as I’m sitting here, I’m just grateful. When I wrote “Going Gray,” I didn’t know for sure if I’d ever have children. I didn’t know for sure that I wanted a child, though I think I was about 80% there. Now, I can’t imagine making any other decision. I’m so excited for our Baby Girl. I’m so ready for her. I’m so elated to have a daughter on the way, and to know that we’re almost there. December 8^th – her due date – is less than a month away.

And it’s incredible to think that one day, she’ll grow up, she’ll have her own feelings about motherhood, and about aging. And one day, hopefully a long time from now, we will have to say goodbye to each other. She’ll live a whole life, and for all of it, even when I’m gone, I’ll be her mother.

I hope I’m a good one.

And I hope that one day, she’ll read this poem, and know that I was thinking about her, even before I knew it myself.