The Path Less Taken

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...