My heart feels sparkly and warm as a gentle tear escapes my eye. It’s only the two of us in this magical moment, and I know this feeling.

This feeling of love will continue to bloom as I watch this precious human baby of 5 months grow up in this wild adventure called life.

I am currently visiting my chosen family in Southern California, where I spent 23 years of my adult life. I relocated back to Edmond, Oklahoma a little over 2 years ago to be nearer to my biological family. While it has been a culture shock, my heart is still at peace with my decision. Further confirmation for me to carry on with following those powerful signs from the Universe.
Score.
I miss my fur baby, Echo Violet, something fierce, but there are only a handful of days left until we are reunited. Echo is deeply bonded with my Momma, her Grams, which eases my heart and mind.
To say that I worry about this little creature is a gross understatement.

This is one of the multifaceted reasons I feel compelled to speak on the complex topic of whether or not to have a biological baby.

Where shall I begin?
The beginning, I suppose…

1976
I grew up in Oklahoma, where it was pretty common for people to pair up romantically in high school, and marry and begin procreating shortly thereafter.
I very much thought this would be my path.
I am a visionary, and a control freak. I had a plan, even in high school, and I am also stubborn as hell. When I want something, I’m gonna get it, or I’m gonna nearly take myself out trying.
Life has most definitely taught me a very different truth, albeit rather slowly and painfully.
Thank you, life.

Seriously.

I dated my high school sweetheart for a little over 4 years.
I still remember the baby names we picked out, one of which I still adore: Daxton.
Years later, I became obsessed with the idea that I would have twin girls, and I would name them Luna Ray and Stella Ryan. I was deep into exploration of the wild and quirky human I was uncovering, and my chosen twin names felt like glittery perfection.
My Grams and my mom were both twins, so, the probability of having these celestial twin humans was higher than average!
Dream big, right?

1997
My high school boyfriend and I broke up during our freshman year of college, and I met Matt a short year and a half later. Matt would become my husband, the father of our fur babies, and my ex-hubby 10 years after our paths crossed.
I was 19 when we met. I was in the middle of recovery from an eating disorder, and I had no idea who I was outside of modern dance.
Not uncommon for 19-year-olds to still be “finding” themselves.
Matt and I quickly became best friends, and he confessed having those “more than friends” feelings a couple of months later.

I wasn’t sure.

My feelings did eventually intensify, but I believe something shifted in him once I was all in.

I was no longer a challenge.

I have a talent for finding and falling for emotionally unavailable humans.

Yes, truly a talent.

A fun moment from a human I dated a few years ago:
“Do you think I’m emotionally unavailable?”
Me: “not yet.”
Several weeks later, I felt my feelings growing stronger, and the next day he invited me over, poured me a glass of one of my favorite wines, gave me a gift, and then dumped me.
I laughed and reminded him of our conversation weeks before.

Emotionally. Unavailable.

2006
Matt and I tried during our final year of marriage to conceive.
Sex became a source of contention for us as our romantic flame dimmed.
Matt felt that the only time I was interested in “doing the deed” was when I was ovulating.
His feelings were valid.
When he asked for a separation in 2007, I was resistant.
I went to stay with friends for a few months, hoping that we would work through this in therapy.
We still loved each other.
We didn’t know how to “do life” without the other.
I found out he was dating someone consistently.
To be fair, this was part of our arrangement; I had never really dated.
I was becoming more confident in my weirdness, and Matt was not super stoked about this. 19-year-old Rayna was eager to please and wanted to be the perfect wife.
30-year-old Rayna was more fiery, and building resentment from a lonely marriage.
My resentment grew.
I would get MEAN if I drank.

I am not mean.
I was unhappy.

Matt kept dating the girl, and I asked for a divorce a year into our separation.

2009
Our divorce was finalized in March. We had decided to coparent our fur babies and were determined to remain lifelong friends.
We are connected to this day.
I was terrified when we separated. I was in the middle of obtaining my teaching credential, and I was only working part-time as a licensed psychotherapist. We were living in an expensive city, San Diego.
How would I do this?
Matt was incredibly supportive with the financial transition, and fortunately, my leap into the teaching realm would pay off. I was hired to teach dance full time in the fall of 2009.

2010
By the end of my initial year as a full-time teacher, I decided it was time to buy my first home. Everyone thought I was a little nuts, which only intensified my motivation.
My first home was perfect for me and my 2 little monsters. And purchasing in 2010 turned out to be the first genius financial decision I had ever made!
Okay, it wasn’t genius, but close.
Yay, me. I did something wise with my money.
Uncharted territory!
It was quite a commute to my school, but it had a small yard for Kya and Kasey. We would spend the next 8 years here.
2010 was also the year that I took over directing the dance program. I had no idea how all-consuming this position would become.

And I was all in.

2018
After Matt and my second fur baby passed in early 2018, I knew it was time to sell my house and move closer to my school.
I no longer needed a yard.
I grieved hard, wondering where my fur babies’ spirits were.
There was a moment when I was sitting on the couch, and I felt them there with me, and I smiled through the pain. I knew they would be with me for the rest of my Earthly existence, and this may be the closest experience I’ve had to a spiritual awakening.
It was cathartic and euphoric.
It was Kasey’s turn to be permanently inked on my arm, with Kya’s image already on the flip side.

I sold my house that summer, and it was highly emotional.  Not terribly surprising for this delicate fucking flower of a soul.
Oh, the memories. Their favorite spots to play, to hide, to snuggle. This had been our house, and it felt like a chapter was closing.
My mom was over the moon with my “upgraded” neighborhood, and I had to tell her to zip it and let me grieve. She wasn’t a huge fan of that first house and its location, but it had been perfect for me and my “kids.”
While only a physical space, it’s hard to let go when it’s your last connection to someone or something you’ve lost in your life.

When I sold my house, I paid off my hefty student loans, paid cash for a white Kia Soul that I transformed into a glorious shade of purple and etched with Prince’s symbol, and I moved into a blissful apartment a few miles from my school.
I could not believe the feeling of liberation that came with being debt-free.
I also realized how free I felt from the guilt and the worry that I had carried since I brought Kya into our lives back in 2002.

I am a highly sensitive human. I felt their pain, I worried over every little possible issue. I felt guilty for leaving them when I would go to work. My friends gave me a hard time, as I would prioritize my babies above socializing. I consider this to be responsible pet ownership, but I am aware that I take it to an entirely different level.

The 2018/2019 school year started, and I was on fire to begin bringing my narrative, “Flawed Machine” to life on the stage. I threw all of myself into every aspect of this dance production, and it paid off.
Once upon a time, when I was in the midst of getting my teaching credential, I wasn’t even sure I would get a full time job at Canyon Crest Academy.
But, I leaped.
And here I was, living my unplanned dream, and I felt fulfilled. Oh-so-very fulfilled.
I had worked through many insecurities, and what an incredible feeling to begin to value yourself and your work.

Something else was competing for my brain waves during this time.
Thoughts around becoming a mom were growing in intensity.
What if I had a baby on my own?
As I’ve said, when I want something, I’m going for it.
All in at the age of 42.

I began researching fertility clinics.
I talked to my health insurance.
I connected with CryoBank.
I found my sperm donor.
I administered my own injections.
All signs pointed to my physical body being ready.
I scheduled the IUI procedure.

And then I fucking panicked.
I panicked HARD.

And here it was, yet again, the Universe whispering to me.
I was unsure of the message, but I heard it.
Something was off.
I canceled the procedure.
I cried.

I went home for Thanksgiving.
My parents were lovely and understanding as I grieved my decision. I wasn’t sure yet if this was my final decision.
Both of my parents had dreamed of grandkids, and both of their adult children were heading towards being childless.

I was that young girl who always dreamed of being a momma.
I knew I would be a great Momma.
I had worked hard on myself.
I had learned how to navigate my intense emotions and love my sensitive body and mind.
I felt prepared to bring another human into this world, and love the shit out of them while providing them with security and structure.
So what had happened?
Great question.

I still ponder this question.
I still play the dreadful “what if?” game.
Many decisions are neither right or wrong.
They take us down different paths.
This path was becoming permanent in my “advanced age.”
My insurance would no longer cover fertility treatment after my 43 birthday.
I went back and forth.

2019
After “Flawed Machine” wrapped up in February, I started dreaming of my next home.
I found a townhome that needed a lot of TLC that spring, bought it, and obsessed over every design detail, sacrificing many nights of sleep to dream it into being.
As I was cleaning rat shit out of my kitchen cabinets that I would soon paint a glorious lavender, I kept telling myself that all of the hard, gross work would pay off.
Oh boy did it.
Complete with purple carpeted stairs.
I know that may sound dreadful. I was terrified to take the risk myself.
But oh boy, did it turn out beautifully!
I mean, to me anyway, and that’s all that matters in this story, no offense!

I turned 43 while I was in the midst of renovating my townhome.
I mourned again.
No more fertility treatment.
Could I adopt someday?
I always got pissed when people would suggest that.
Sure, I can adopt.
It’s completely different.
But yes, adoption did start to sound like a possibility.
Someday.
Maybe it was time for a puppy.

That December, I brought my annual dance narrative, “The Invisible Child,” to life on the stage.
I felt like it was truly my masterpiece, and I laughed and joked about having to outdo myself the following year.
Like many others, I am my toughest critic. I’m an extreme perfectionist.
This was the first show that I was really, really proud of.
I pinched myself, yet again, at the magic that was my life.
And then I got to writing again for the 2020/2021 production!

2020.
March 13, 2020: Our last day of in-person school.
What an eerie day.
I did my best to assure the dancers that we would be back very soon.
Time went on.
I tried to soothe my beloved group of seniors as they learned their senior theses would be virtual. They had been dreaming up these ideas since they were baby freshmen.
I started seeing clients as a psychotherapist again while continuing to navigate running a virtual dance program.
I signed up for notifications at local shelters for chihuahuas.
I went to meet a few, but I was no longer the impulsive girl I used to be.
I was hesitant to give up my clean, calm, untethered existence!
Was I truly really ready for another doggy commitment?
Was I ready for my empathic, highly sensitive soul to imprint on another living creature?

November 6th, 2020:
Love at first sight.
Those eyes.
Human eyes.
And she looked at me and rested her teeny tiny head on my shoulder!
Little Echo Violet.

New Years’ Day, 2021
Echo and I had flown to Oklahoma for the winter holiday.
My family also fell in love with this precious creature, even the ones who disdain this adorably crazy breed of dog.
Yes, she is that love-able.
And she is actually a mutt for the record.

Echo and I woke up to a shimmering white landscape on January 1st, 2021, and this was the moment I felt everything click into place.
The Universe was pointing me home, after a 23-year Southern Cali adventure of a lifetime.
Echo was the final piece to the puzzle.
I wanted to create a new reality that allowed me flexibility. I wanted complete freedom. I wanted to slow down and be mindful and present as often as possible.

I gave my notice at my dream job.
No one believed me.
I had talked about moving home for many, many years, and most thought there was no way I would leave the rich, colorful, rainbow life I had created.
There were lots of tears. Lots of laughs. And more tears.
I felt incredibly loved, a little scared, and excited.
My dad finally made the promise of renting a U-Haul and driving his little girl home to Oklahoma come true in June of 2021.
It was bittersweet to say the least.
But no regrets.

It was time for my “all in” to shift.

2023
Mother’s Day hit me harder than ever this year.
I cuddled my precious Echo, and contemplated life.
I felt all of the intense feelings.
I played the painful “what if” game.
And I thought about decisions, and the journeys they take us on.

My mom worries about me being old and alone.
Okay, I worry in moments, too!
And then I remember that life, like emotions, ebbs and flows.
All I have is this moment.
I am happy and grateful.
I have incredible connections with other humans.  I have a bond like no other with a certain little 8-year-old named Lola Rose.
I worry obsessively over my fur baby, and I thank the stars that I don’t have to worry about a real human child in this dark world.
I love comforting others through their fears, and supporting other women who are childless, whether by choice or another reason.
I know I will still have hard days, and that’s okay. It feels good to be at peace with conflicting emotions.
They come and go, as emotions do.

I just returned from my Cali trip, feeling loved and connected to so many souls.  New baby souls included.

And as I sit here, looking into these eyes that seem human, my heart feels sparkly and warm.