Updated: Sep. 13, 2019
Originally Published: April 17, 2019
Trigger warning: child abuse, detailed descriptions of trauma
“Life’s not fair.”
“When the wind doesn’t blow, row.”
These sayings resonate deeply with me; they shape how we perceive our circumstances. Life can be a cruel teacher.
As a child, I experienced what could be described as a picture-perfect life until the age of six. We lived in a lovely home in Phoenix, equipped with a pool and a spacious yard. I had my own room, and everything seemed idyllic. However, that year, my dad declared bankruptcy, a concept far beyond my comprehension. I simply watched as my possessions faded into the distance as we drove to California to begin anew.
Having gone through bankruptcy, I can share that it’s a harrowing experience. There’s an avalanche of paperwork, but what struck me the most were the strangers who came to our home, touched our belongings, and estimated the value of our family’s life. They loaded our things onto a truck, preparing to auction off our memories. Through the innocent eyes of a six-year-old, I witnessed my father’s sense of self-worth being stripped away.
We moved in with my grandparents into a cramped three-bedroom house where my brother and I shared a room. I felt isolated and angry, struggling to understand why my dad was so upset. My grandmother, despite our frequent disagreements, embraced me with unconditional love. She took me line dancing, introduced me to tennis, and shared her passion for the ocean. Losing her three years ago still leaves a void in my heart.
From that tumultuous time, I discovered my love for the ocean, spending summers as a junior lifeguard. I jumped off piers, learned to surf, and savored warm strawberries fresh from the sun. The friendships I formed during those years remain intact today.
Fast forward to the time my husband, Alex, and I welcomed our first child, Lily. Eager to expand our family, we began trying for a second baby when Lily turned one. When the pregnancy test revealed a positive result, we were ecstatic. However, as the weeks progressed, I began to experience spotting, signaling that something was amiss. A visit to the OBGYN confirmed our worst fears: I was having a miscarriage. I learned that the experience varies for each woman, but what I felt was a visceral pain that tore through me.
Afterward, Alex suggested a getaway to Phoenix to distract us. As we drove, the pain intensified, leading us to stop at a rest area. I rushed to the bathroom, unprepared for the harrowing experience that awaited me. Alone and frightened, I faced an ordeal that no one seems willing to discuss. I was left to grapple with the loss of our baby in a sterile stall.
My husband was there for me, but the emotional aftermath of the miscarriage lingered. I experienced hormonal shifts that clouded my judgment and emotions, leading me to question whether pursuing another pregnancy was worth the toll it took on my mental health. But after the heartache, I found hope again when I became pregnant for the second time, only to face another devastating loss.
Undeterred, we shifted our focus toward adoption and fostering, realizing that our journey didn’t have to mirror conventional paths. My workplace thrived as I embraced a new vision for our family. We eventually welcomed Daisy and, surprisingly, another baby shortly after.
Life, however, threw us a curveball. While Alex and I were away for a short work trip, we entrusted our three daughters to a nanny. Upon returning, I sensed something was wrong. Our youngest, Eva, just three months old, had a swollen head and lacked her usual energy. The nanny brushed it off, attributing it to a minor incident. But I instinctively knew something was awry.
After further probing, our eldest daughter, Lily, revealed that Eva had been unwell while we were gone. Alarm bells rang, and we rushed to the doctor. What followed was a nightmare; Eva had suffered a cranial fracture. In an instant, we were thrust into a harrowing situation where we were treated as suspects in a potential abuse case.
Our lives shattered, we were forced to reevaluate our priorities. Alex and I decided it was time to be more present for our children, cherishing the fleeting moments of their childhood. We adjusted our schedules to part-time, allowing us to engage in their daily lives fully. Ultimately, we were allowed to keep our daughters, and we embraced a new chapter filled with laughter, crafts, and memories.
Life teaches us that fairness is subjective.
In high school, I was once the new girl in Durango, Colorado, feeling out of place and lonely. Lance, one of my first friends, made me feel less isolated, sharing his experiences and patiently waiting for my parents to pick me up after school. His kindness left an imprint on my heart.
As we navigate the complexities of parenthood, the journey can be both daunting and beautiful. If you’re exploring options such as at-home insemination, consider checking out resources like this guide on artificial insemination kits and fertility boosters for men that can provide valuable insights. Additionally, WebMD has excellent resources regarding pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, my story reflects resilience, the unpredictable nature of life, and the importance of community in navigating our journeys.