15 years ago almost to the day, my mom had completed weeks of hormone shots, had some of her eggs extracted, and went into the doctor’s office to undergo in vitro.

My dads had been together for years, and wanted a baby together. We all liked the idea of all of the kids in the family having the same mom (as we all had different fathers), so my mom volunteered herself.

The time leading up to the day this photo was taken, of the two embryos created as a result of the in vitro, was brutal. My mom had sustained some kidney injuries in the recent past as a result of a rally crash. She was living in Seattle at the time, and seemed depressed. She underwent weeks of hormone shots anyway. The hormone shots gave her terrible hives, all over her arms, hands, legs, and feet. We spent hours watching movies, sometimes making trips to the drugstore for more lotion to treat her hives. After we went into the doctor to have these embryos implanted, we had to wait some weeks to find out if the in vitro had been successful. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. We were all crestfallen that it hadn’t worked.

The takeaway from her undergoing the in vitro process was not a baby; it was further evidence of how freely she gave of herself. Instead of burning bridges with her ex husband (my dad), she volunteered to have the baby of his new husband, to bring more love and life into our mixed up family.