For Aunt K

Angrycanrn and I have been signing emails to each other with “Aunt” for months now. Honorary Aunt is the type of relationship we anticipate with each other’s children. These terms of affection are just a little something extra in our communications with each other.

I keep thinking about how I can possibly acknowledge the magnitude of her gift to me. Mostly, my thoughts keep returning to her faith in me. Her faith in trusting me with her husband’s DNA, with her children’s full genetic siblings. These embryos are a part of her husband’s legacy. The legacy of someone who left this world too soon. More precious than I can possibly express.

I want to give back to her. We have discussed a possibility, but it’s too soon to really plan that. But I want to honor her gift and her husband.

I was raised Jewish, but not religious. Yet there are customs and traditions that are deeply ingrained. One is Jewish baby naming customs. Ashkenazi Jews (Jews of Eastern European descent) name their children for deceased family members. It would feel beyond strange to me to name my child for someone still living. We honor the deceased relative by using either their name or choosing a name with the same first initial as the deceased family member. My niece, Julie Diana, was named for both her great grandmothers, Julia and Dora. I have long been planning to name my child for my father, Stanley, who died when I was 17, but I now want to also give my child an “M” name for Aunt K’s husband, Mark. I’m not revealing my name choices, but boy or girl, there will be an “S” and there will be an “M.” I’m also leaning towards 2 middle names for a girl, to add in a “J” name for my friend’s father. I’m referring to my friend who donated his sperm during my attempts to get pregnant with my own eggs. His attempts to help me create my family brought us closer, and even though it didn’t work, we are family. (And I really like the way the “J” name sounds with the first name!)

It warms my heart to think of naming my child to honor Mark. I hope it warms Aunt K’s heart, too. He lives on in our children.