You Are Worthy

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Can you believe we start as a teeny, tiny cell? When I ponder the question at my big age, it feels like such a reduction.

Me? Amazing me as a teeny, tiny cell. No, it feels too small, too unimportant to fathom.

  •  I have parents and purpose and people.
  • I own brains and beauty and burdens.
  • I carry secrets and scares and sins.
  • I give life and love and lies.

That matters.

Can I tell you a secret?

The magic lies in seeing ourselves from the beginning—and not from now to the beginning.

We tend to start at our Today and play the tape back. Too easy to play small there.

In the stages of life, our cells multiply and mature and our bodies grow. Intellectually, you know this, but I wonder if you know it …Scientifically? Emotionally? I didn’t know that science led to emotion in such an unfamiliar yet satisfying way?

You probably don’t know this story because most arrive in this time-space reality through what my mama calls: good ole’ sucking and bucking.

Mama and Daddy had a little sexy time—sperm met egg and started the process of your being-ness.

OMG—we started in a man. Scary stuff. But we were finished inside a woman. Way to go Universal Balance.

Your parents didn’t likely see that messy sausage-making between their sex and the knowledge of your conception, though we know it happened. 

You were there, but missed this good stuff too—the part that makes you a big deal.

I’m no scientist. What qualifies me to tell a science story?

I’ve birthed two live babies from scratch, and completed 4 rounds of IVF. I have a scientific and emotional relationship with every stage, from baking to harvest to fertilization to embryo to infant. I hold the blessings and burdens that come with reproduction and new arrivals.

It’s through these processes that I know, You Are Worthy Because You Exist!

You Are Worthy Because You Exist.  

You matter. I matter.

You start small, but grow big—because you’re a Big Deal.

In IVF, doctors harvest whatever eggs they can retrieve. They introduce sperm to egg, and the party for your existence begins.

Once you wake from surgery, the embryologist informs you of your viable egg count.

It could be 7 or 4, or 2. Ten is the magic number here—all you want to hear is there are at least ten eggs. 

My final round, I had 11.

If you’re listening, congrats on being a living egg. You’re here, so you matter.

All the gods work to keep you alive and the sciences work to keep you multiplying because survival is not light work, and being the fittest is no cakewalk.

The math is simple—multiply or die. Mama Nature in her shadow side.

Once sperm is introduced, some ferto babies naturally degenerate. Yes, sperm can be a killer too. Mama Nature showing out in her shadow again. I had a perfectly good egg until a man’s seed touched it. What the hell?

7 ferto babies—the cell race continues. 16 cells to be mature enough for implantation or freezing.

Daily, a nurse calls with the new count—who degenerated, who multiplied.

Seven turns to five.

If you’re listening, congrats on being a multiplying cell. You’re here, so you matter.

My five ferto babies must survive testing because, assuredly, at least one has some abnormality or twisted mix of genes that make them unfit, according to the lab.

Weeks later, the new number is here—3 viable, healthy, mature embryos—five turns into three. 

If you’re listening, congrats on making the survival cut. You were in the best race toward human existence, where teeny, tiny sperm and ovum wanna be, and so many more never arrived. 

You won the most brutal race of life—the right to exist.

Ten becomes 7, becomes 5 becomes 3. Only one needs to be chosen for womb work.

The process is similar in old-fashioned baby-making, but we’re absent-minded. We learn later through miscarriages, pregnancy tests,  births, and more, but I tell you this story for you to capture the math, friend.

You just wouldn’t be here if you were not supposed to be here.

If you’re listening, congrats on your purpose to arrive and to exist. You’re here, so you matter. From 10 to 7 to 5 to 3—to you,  and to me.

Worthiness is a birthright, and the proof is already in the pudding without you having to do anything but arrive here.

I know you’re listening to this,

so receive that you’re worthy because you exist. 


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