In a bid to celebrate her daughter’s 12th birthday, I made a series of questionable decisions: inviting a horde of girls to a sleepover at the Hilton in downtown Omaha, devouring three slices of deep-dish pizza along with a hefty slice of chocolate cake while racing to the elevator, and pleading with the hotel shuttle driver to whisk us off to Starbucks. While the other girls indulged in their frothy drinks, I sipped on a grande cup of Alka-Seltzer. Upon returning to our room, they settled in to watch “The Theory of Everything.” As the film reached its emotional peak, with Jane Hawking’s poignant line, “I did the best I could,” the young girls started to tear up, while I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. My daughter, Emma, promptly sent me to the adjoining room, leaving me to reflect on how far we’ve come.
Our journey has not always been filled with laughter and birthday celebrations. Before she was born, Emma faced a life-threatening condition known as gastroschisis, where her intestines developed outside her abdomen. Her early days were spent in a New York City neonatal intensive care unit, where she was nourished through tube feeds and IV fluids, which, while lifesaving, posed risks to her liver.
At three years old, we discovered a specialized intestinal rehabilitation program in Omaha. They assured us that a treatment plan could be established quickly. However, as we prepared to leave, a neighbor mistakenly thought we were off to Oklahoma, highlighting my ignorance of Nebraska’s geography. I had always dreamed of living in a vibrant city like New York, where I pursued a career in writing for notable magazines. However, my greatest aspiration was to be a mother.
Fast forward, three months after relocating to Omaha, Emma’s liver failed, and she was placed on the transplant list. On July 20, 2006—her “re-birthday”—she received a small bowel, liver, and pancreas transplant. Initially, I struggled to even utter the word “transplant,” but I soon came to appreciate the care provided by our remarkable transplant team. This led us to sell our New York home and settle in Omaha, a place I had barely recognized on a map.
People often expressed disbelief at our move from New York to Omaha, assuming it must have been a significant culture shock—and they were right. One day, while walking our dog, I was surprised when a driver in a passing car smiled and waved instead of giving me the finger. I also noticed the kindness of strangers, such as a checkout clerk asking if I needed help with my bags.
Over time, I have grown to appreciate the simplicity of life in Omaha: children playing outside until dusk, manageable traffic, and an affordable cost of living. Ironically, my own daughter has even performed alongside Tony Award winners at the Holland Center, Omaha’s equivalent of Carnegie Hall.
My transformation from an anxious New Yorker to a more relaxed individual has been profound. I’ve learned to embrace support from those around me and encourage Emma to do the same, reminding her that “feeling the fear” can lead to growth.
As I fly into Omaha and see the skyline, I still hold a fondness for Manhattan. Yet, I’ve come to understand that home is more about an internal sense of belonging. A city girl can indeed flourish outside her familiar environment with love and a little bit of Alka-Seltzer.
For those looking for more information on pregnancy and insemination, the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development offers excellent resources. If you are considering home insemination, check out Cryobaby’s home intracervical insemination syringe kit combo for expert guidance. Additionally, for those looking for fertility boosters, our blog on fertility options for men may be very helpful.
In summary, this journey from New York to Omaha has been about more than just geography; it’s been a lesson in love, resilience, and the pursuit of dreams.
Keyphrase: Transitioning from New York to Omaha
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