The Path Less Taken

It's been a year since what was one of the most difficult and heartbreaking days of my life. A year ago I began the day with expectations of hope and new life only to have my dreams shattered by a silent ultrasound and uncertainty. It has been a year since I learned what a molar pregnancy was and how isolating it would feel as I moved through such a loss. It has been a year since my world stood still as I waited for the ability to reset and move forward again. It has been a year, but it sometimes feels like both a moment and a lifetime ago. The experience feels simultaneously surreal and painfully real. It has been year since I was bold enough (or crazy enough) to share with the world my journey towards becoming a single mother by choice. It has been a year full of growth, supportive relationships, life-giving laughter, tears, and learning how to hope again. It has been a year that I wouldn't trade, despite the brokenness with which it began. I wrote about my immediate healin...

It's been just over six months since my world was turned upside down. I have written only for myself over these past months. I have honestly been hesitant to share any of this journey in the past months, as any new friends I have made don't know what I went through, and I fear letting more people in. The thing is, though, that letting people in is what allows me to be the most authentic version of myself - and the more authentic I am, the happier I am. In many ways, the healing I felt this past spring was due to the fact that I wasn't hiding. I was raw and real and letting myself hurt and be authentic and real with those around me. I have had amazing conversations as a result, and I have felt closer to people I care about because I let them in. I know it's kind of awkward for a lot of people to discuss the subject of pregnancy/pregnancy loss (especially with a single woman in my position), so it means a lot when people approach me and either open up about their own st...

It was 8 weeks ago today when I rushed out of work to head to a doctor’s appointment for my first ultrasound on week 8 day 5 of pregnancy. This day was one I had been looking forward to since the moment I got the positive test. It’s hard to believe 8 weeks have passed since learning that my pregnancy was not viable. It feels like both a lifetime ago and like it was just yesterday. The passage of time seems so uneven lately… either time is crawling or flying by. I haven’t fully gotten back to normal yet, but as 8 weeks have passed, my body has recovered. I am grateful that my hormone levels have dropped to the negative range within the 8-week limit. The journey I have been on has been so surreal from day one. On a rainy day in mid-January, I was driving around to various building departments for work after having had my pregnancy blood test done earlier in the morning. My protocol was to go in for the test 2 weeks after the insemination procedure. I had been texting with friends about h...

Is this my new normal? Is this what it is to get back to normal? It feels more like a constant tension between what is and what could have been. As I catch my reflection in the mirror at the gym, I should be comforted to see my stomach returning to normal. There is no longer any sign of the bump that was there (or the awful bloating that followed), so I no longer have to hide my stomach. I should be glad, but I’m not. It’s just one more reminder that what could have been is no longer my reality. I should be glad to return to cycling after months away, but instead, I can’t help but be saddened by my triumphant return. I had planned on returning as a pregnant woman who couldn’t do much more than sit there and pedal at a moderate effort, and instead I was pushing myself to limits that I probably didn’t need to on my first day back. I wonder if my new normal is just this...everyday things constantly reminding me of the alternative that is no more. At work, a coworker returned from maternit...

I have still cried or teared up every day, but maybe today I won’t. I am starting to feel closer to normal. That means it has been a relatively good day. Overall, though, this has been the most isolating experience of my life. So many times in my life I’ve embarked upon some unique journey, yet this stands out above the rest. When I was one of the few in my friend group as a teen who was perpetually single, I felt isolated, but I made the best of it. When I realized I was going to be the last to get married (assuming I ever get married), I felt isolated, but I soon learned that there are plenty of single women who want to get married - so we suffer together. When I had a tumor and had to have major surgery to remove an ovary at 27 years old, I was frightened and the only person I knew to have gone through something like that. In the decade to come, I’d find a handful of others, but I still feel like that was a fairly unique experience. When I decided to pursue single motherhood ...

"Thy will be done…" "I know you are good…" "I know you hear me..." I can listen to all the songs to try to put my mind in the right place, but I’m not there. I can remind myself that there is a bigger plan and that God sees a bigger picture...but I am not there yet. I am numb, confused, and lost.  Those words and the way time stopped as my doctor uttered them: "I need to show you something...mass of cells...no developing fetus." I don’t know if I breathed for a solid 30 seconds. I heard what she said, but I knew I must have heard wrong. I was supposed to be seeing a nearly 9-weeks-along baby growing inside of me, but instead there was no life to be found. Suddenly the past weeks flashed through my mind… there was never a raspberry-sized fetus inside of me, no developing heart, lungs, brain, arms, legs… none of it.  For more than 5 weeks, I’d curiously followed along the apps telling me what was happening inside of my body, hopeful as each w...