This is my summer.

I haven’t really felt like writing. I haven’t really felt like much. I haven’t been feeling more sad, but I’ve been feeling less happy. 

This summer just feels like one huge setback. Here I am, in my hometown. In a place I didn’t think I would come back to. Single. Barely emotionally available to date.    And without the one thing I moved here for, my baby. 

The only good thing about living here is time. I know deep down I need time. I need the time to heal, and recover. 

It’s just hard to touch on those emotions. Even now my throat is closing up and tears dripping down my face as I even begin to think and write about this reality. 

Continuously I’m being asked; what’s next for me. Where will I go once the summer is over? 

And that’s the hard part. I don’t know. I don’t really know that I want to continue heading into the future, so much as I would rather go back to the past. 

My daughter is my one solid rock. She’s my motivation to keep going and to do better. I worry so much about failing her. 

I keep putting on this front like everything is okay, when the reality is it’s not. And I keep wondering why things hurt so much, and why I’m not happy. And how or when things will get better. 

This is my summer of recovery, of heartbreak, of readjustments, of healing, and of growth. 

I’m sorry.

They took us back into the exam room. We sat in chairs next to each other and the nurse went over a series of questions. I was 10 weeks and 4 days according to babies measurements from the last couple appointments, according to my LMP I would have been over 11 weeks. The nurse left and we sat together, and for a moment I felt happiness, it was nice to have him with me.

The doctor came in and said we would see if we could hear the heartbeat today. She hadn’t tried with the Doppler before this because she said it would be too early. My first appointment she measured by ultrasound and it was 160, the second appointment it was 134. I was looking forward to hearing the heartbeat, I could remember the joy it brought when I first heard my daughters.

She tried and after a few minutes she said it must still be too soon. We were able to do a abdominal ultrasound my second appointment so she tried that next. She wasn’t able to get a good picture, and that’s when my worry started, but I was still confused. What was happening?

She asked me to undress from the waste down so that we could do a transvaginal ultrasound.

After a few moments she was able to find the baby. I felt peace. I was waiting for that moment. Everything was okay.

“I’m not seeing a heartbeat…” the doctor started. “I’m sorry,” she said as she continued searching around. She measured the baby, “…looks like it’s measuring 9 weeks and 1 day..” The room never felt so small. I couldn’t understand. Everything was happening so fast. She said, “I’m going to have to get the on-call specialist and have her take a look.” and she left the room.

I sat with baby’s dad, who started questioning me. “What does this mean? What’s happening?” I don’t even remember what all he said, but I remember feeling completely numb.

The tool she used for the ultrasound had blood on it. That was the first I had seen any blood. My heart was breaking.

My doctor came back in with a lady dressed in all blue. She started with the transvaginal ultrasound again. She found the baby and started to try and measure the heartbeat. Nothing.

Next thing I know we were being sat down, “The next step from here is to think about whether you would like to do a D & C surgery, pass naturally, or we can give you some pills,” the doctor went into further detail, but all I could see was her mouth moving. How did this happen. She told us, “1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage and often it’s due to genetics and there’s nothing you did wrong or could have done to prevent this.”

The doctors left and baby’s dad said, “Is there nothing else they can do? Is this really it?”

I couldn’t believe it either.

He comforted me, and when we walked out to my car he hugged me and said he wished he didn’t have to leave. For once he was really there for me. But he was leaving for Vegas that day, he had to go for a work conference. He would be gone until Monday.

He left and I got in my car to drive home. My car wouldn’t start. Driving over that metal post and tire had in fact done damage. I felt cursed.

March 22nd will be a day I remember for the rest of my life. The worst day, the most painful day, a day I never want to relive.



8:00 am

My alarm started blaring. It was Wednesday morning. My last doctors appointment was just two weeks ago and I was scheduled to go in again today. I had been looking forward to going to this one, because finally baby’s dad had agreed to go. His work schedule had prevented him from coming to the earlier ones, so this would be his first appointment. I was nervous as to how it would be with him there, because after all that had happened between us I didn’t know what to expect from him.

I woke up tired, but I knew I had to hurry and get me and my daughter ready so I would not be late to this appointment. It’s not unlike me to be running late, but this doctor would reschedule the appointment if I was more than 10 minutes late and I couldn’t risk that especially with him coming.

8:20 am

I finished getting ready and went to wake up my daughter who was also tired, and didn’t want to go to daycare. She resisted getting dressed and as such I started into a frantic, “I cannot be late today!” which was true, but it was something I often said.

8:36 am

My appointment was at 8:50 am. I needed to get her dropped off, which would take about five minutes and then get to my appointment which was about 12-15 minutes away. We finally got into the car, I didn’t have any time to lose.

The sun was shining bright that morning, and it was early so the air was cold. The frost on my window made it difficult to see, my windshield wipers were broken, the heat had gone out in my car, and I hadn’t stopped to scrape it before I left.

8:40 am

When driving into my daughters daycare I ran over a parking post that I couldn’t see with the mix of the sun and the frost I left on my window. It was a short metal post with a tire on the bottom to hold it up. The tire got lodged under my car, but I had no time to lose. The impact of the post did nothing to the front of my car and neither my daughter or I was hurt, so I carried on. I quickly ran inside to drop her off, and raced to my appointment. The tire slid out at some point early on, fortunately.

8:57 am

I ran from the parking lot into the hospital and up to the fourth floor where my doctor’s office was. I met with baby’s dad right before checking in. It was nice to see him, even though my feelings were so tender. Would this appointment change anything? 

(To Be Continued)

Who am I?

I guess it’s time I introduce myself and give a little back story.

I’m 24 years old. I grew up in a small town and lived there up until just a couple years ago. I moved to a bigger city a couple hours away to get my bachelors degree.

When I was 18 I found out I was pregnant with my boyfriend. That pregnancy came with as much surprise and unpreparedness. I had a beautiful baby girl.  Her father and I split up after she was a year old, and we share custody although it’s still an on-going battle.

Thus far, the life I had imagined when I was younger has been far from the life I have lived. But time and time again I’ve been reminded that everything happens for a reason, I’m a big believer in that.

I enjoy the outdoors, love to go skiing, camping, ice skating, hiking, etc. I also love movies and am a fequent Netflix binger. I used to enjoy going out and enjoying the night life scene, but even before this pregnancy it started to loose its pizazz that it had in the beginning.

I have struggled with depression and anxiety throughout my life and I have been working to better myself.

Once again I feel like I am restarting my life and many of my dreams that seemed within reach are now postponed for a later time.

But who am I now? For the past year I associated myself as his girlfriend.

I spent my weeks looking forward to our weekends and our holidays. I spent my days texting him. I spent so much time getting to know him and had grown so accustomed to doing things with him. And now, not only am I without him, but I am carrying our child that will soon be born into this world of mine.

But, I’m still trying to figure out my own place in this world. Yet, soon, I will be bringing another life into it.
And honestly I’m scared to death.
But I wake up everyday and I try.
I tell myself it will be okay. I tell myself that there’s a bigger picture here, and I can’t see it all just yet.

I’m searching to reconnect with myself, and to learn to love myself again, because in our relationship I spent so much of myself loving him, and devoting my life to please him, that in the end I lost much of myself.

The beginning.

He finally got back and we spent the weekend together. Nothing was the same. We were both being torn apart by our differences in beliefs, values, upbringing, and this decision we now faced. This was only the beginning.

“I don’t think anyone “likes” the idea of abortion. But there’s people who agree that sometimes it’s the best option, and those who don’t. I know for a fact I couldn’t give a child what they deserve at this stage in my life and I would hate myself for that forever. I’m scared to death that you’ll say it’s your body and completely disregard how I feel because you get mad at me or something and then my whole life is in the hands of someone else. This is literally killing me inside. You even said “I’ll do this all myself.” Before you left. It’s like the threats are already happening.”

“I do think abortion is our best option. We are both not financially prepared and that would be a harsh environment on that baby and I hate the idea of that. I’m not emotionally or prepared maturity wise to have a child. I want us rather to be saving up and be married and be prepared to bring a life into this world. I know that it’s against your values and I don’t like the idea of it too much either, but it really is our best option. We both said we didn’t want this to happen. And I believe that’s why this is the best option. If we did do this, I want you to know that I would be there for you through it all; and yes, it would hurt, but I believe it’s the right thing to do.”

“I want you to know that despite how hard it would be, and how much pain we would have to help each other get through. I think it would bring us closer together. I know that overcoming your values to make a choice like that would be incredibly hard, but I would respect the fact that if you did it, that you made the right choice for BOTH of us. I just need you to know that it would be the right choice though. I really do understand that it would hurt you emotionally, but I’ll be there with you every step of the way and I promise you we will make it through this.”

Those were the texts I received from him after leaving his house that Sunday morning.

He had a point, we weren’t prepared. We weren’t prepared for any of this. What had we even been doing? Why had we never discussed these “what if’s” before this situation occurred. Why had we not been more careful.

What his texts don’t say, is that he will be there for me no matter what. Specifically he states that if I go through with this (abortion) then he will be there for me. He hopes that I can overcome my values, but he doesn’t offer to give up any of his.

Was this love? Was this a relationship that could get through anything? I was really beginning to wonder.

He talked in terms of logic, but there was so more to it than that.

I read stories of women and their regret. I read stories of women and their pain. I read stories of women facing miscarriage, and hurting deeply for the loss that he was suggesting I CHOOSE.

I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it.

I was caught between making the ultimate sacrifice for a relationship that may or may not last, and loosing someone I found myself loving deeply and wanting a future with.

Delivering the news.

It was the night he was supposed to be getting back, and I had finally heard from him. “We are stuck here for the night, maybe coming back tomorrow if we can,”his text said. I had texted him before that and said, “please let me know when you are back or if you don’t make it call me.” Shortly after I got his text saying he wasn’t coming my phone started ringing.

I picked up the phone and took a deep breath,”Hey”.

“You said to call you. How come you said please, it sounded so urgent?” he questioned.

I was nervous, because deep down inside I didn’t think he would react well. “Oh I just wanted to know what was going on,” I kind of lied.

He was in the bathroom getting ready to go explore the city where him and his coworkers were stuck in layover. Before he got off the phone he paused, “Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

How did he know.

“Well actually yes,” I started slowly, “But I’m not sure if now is a good time.”

“Just tell me.” He pleaded.

“Okay, but are you sure? Because..I’m about to drop a bomb. Should I wait until you get back?” I was really hesitant.

“Just tell me please.” He demanded now.

“Okay,” I took a deep breath.”Well…my period is a few days late and I took a test thinking it would be nothing, because my cycle is irregular……….and it came back positive.”

“Are you serious?” He said in shock.


“What? How did this happen?” He choked.

Just a couple seconds later there was a knock on his bathroom door. His coworkers were saying, “lets go.” He told me we would talk again soon and he would hopefully be back the next day.

Just like that our lives were forever changed.







I have to tell you something.

It was early February and my boyfriend I were driving around thinking about where to go eat. Things had been good lately, I felt so in love and happy. All the time I spent with him was so meaningful, and I saw a future with us. He brought up his lease ending next month, “I think I’m just going to get my own place this time, I’m sick of having roommates.” he admitted. I didn’t say much, I was busy thinking. ‘Maybe it’s time we make the next step in our relationship, I would really like for us to move in together‘, but I didn’t tell him I thought that just yet.

It was the night before he was leaving for a work trip, where he would be gone for a week or so. I knew if I didn’t say it now I would probably loose my chance and so I finally got the nerve to bring it up. I was hoping that if anything, the time away would give him more time to think about it. I spent hours fiddling with the words inside my head. I was so nervous. I had no idea how he would feel about it, and it was scary thinking there was a possibility he wouldn’t want to. “Where do you think we are?” I said after he turned the lights off to go to sleep. Confused he said, “What? What do you mean?”. I replied feeling silly, “Like where do you think we are in our relationship?” It was obvious he was a little taken back from my questioning. I couldn’t blame him, it was coming from out of no where. He said, “I don’t really understand..” and we went back and forth for a little until I finally spit it out, “I mean like..I would be ready for us to live together. I think our relationship is ready for the next step. How do you feel about it, or have you thought about it?” After a quiet second he said, “I haven’t thought about it..” and that was the end of that conversation. He hadn’t thought about it.

I was kind of crushed, but I had hope. I wanted to bring it back up after a couple days, just to see if he was giving it some more thought. The nerves of the conversation made it nearly impossible. One day while talking he mentioned that he had been talking to his friends about it, and that gave me a little piece of mind. I felt like giving him some time and space, while he was away, to consider it more would be good. I planned to approach the conversation again once he was back.

He texted me early one Thursday morning, “we are coming back today.” I was so excited. It had been a week since I had last seen him and the time difference made it hard for us to talk a lot. That day I was busy working two jobs, but before I went to my second job of the day I came home to have lunch. ‘Weird‘ I thought to myself, ‘my period still hasn’t came..‘ I was about three days late, which wasn’t completely abnormal, but I had been having symptoms for a couple weeks. I had an unused pregnancy test in my bathroom from a different time my period was late, but eventually came. I decided to take it. Sitting in the bathroom I thought to myself, ‘It’s going to be negative and then my period is going to start tomorrow.‘ We were not trying to have a baby, and we were definitely not ready for a baby.

I sat on the toilet waiting for the results. ‘Must be a faulty test, it’s not even showing anything. Oh well, probably nothing anyways’ I thought. I set it by my sink, just in case something changed. I left the bathroom and started cleaning around the house. I had a few hours before I needed to leave for work.

Just a couple minutes later I went into the bathroom again to put something away. I stared down at the test sitting on the counter. Positive.

There was no way. This is impossible. How could this be.

I raced to the nearest store to get another test. Came back home, and took it. This time almost immediately the results showed. Positive.

The rest of the day I waited impatiently to hear from him again, to see what time he would be home. Suddenly the conversation of moving in together was no longer important. Soon I would have to tell him this news, and I had absolutely no idea how he was going to take it.