Updated: September 13, 2019
Originally Published: April 17, 2019
Trigger warning: child abuse, detailed description of miscarriage.
“Life isn’t fair.”
“When there’s no wind, row.”
These sayings resonate deeply with many of us. The way we perceive life can often determine our success.
When I was just six, I thought I had it all—a lovely home in Phoenix with a pool and ample space to play. I had my own room, and life felt perfect. But then, my world turned upside down when my father declared bankruptcy. At that innocent age, I didn’t grasp the significance of those words. All I knew was that everything familiar slowly faded away as we journeyed to California to start anew.
For those who haven’t experienced bankruptcy, let me share a glimpse into that process. It’s filled with mountains of paperwork, but the most shocking part for me were the strangers who invaded our home, appraising our belongings and reducing our life to mere auction items. I watched this unfold through the eyes of a confused child, witnessing my father’s dignity slip away as our possessions were taken from us.
After moving in with my grandparents, I felt isolated. I was suddenly thrust into a new school, forced to make new friends, and share a cramped room with my brother. My grandma tried her best to understand me, and even though we clashed, her boundless love shone through. She introduced me to line dancing, tennis, and the beauty of the ocean. Even now, her number is one of the few I have memorized, and we lost her nearly three years ago.
That challenging period sparked my love for the ocean, leading me to spend five summers as a junior lifeguard. I learned to surf, made lifelong friends, and relished the sweetness of sun-warmed strawberries.
After welcoming our daughter, Lily, into the world, my husband and I yearned for another child. We began trying again as soon as Lily turned one. When the pregnancy test turned positive, we were ecstatic, dreaming of names and the joy of a new addition to our family. However, something felt off; I began spotting, and my heart sank. My OBGYN confirmed our worst fear: I was experiencing a miscarriage.
The emotional aftermath was numbing, compounded by the physical pain that felt like a cruel joke. My husband suggested a getaway to Phoenix, hoping for some respite. But the pain intensified during our drive, forcing us to stop at a rest area. There, I faced the most harrowing moments of my life, alone and scared, dealing with blood and heartbreak in a cold bathroom stall.
This experience is often shrouded in silence and shame, but perhaps sharing my story can lend support to someone else facing a similar battle. I was overwhelmed, embarrassed, and I couldn’t help but wonder why such experiences are rarely spoken about openly.
Eventually, I returned home to my husband and our daughter, grappling with depression and lingering hormones after the loss. We tried again, with doctors prescribing hormones that only added to my emotional turmoil. I remember a friend’s concern, asking if I was dangerously unstable, making me question if pursuing another baby was worth the toll it was taking on my well-being.
But we persevered, and I became pregnant again. However, the joy was short-lived as we faced another loss. I was met with insensitivity from a colleague who couldn’t understand why I needed time away from work, thinking I should be tougher.
Despite the heartbreak, we still had our precious daughter, Lily. We began exploring fostering and adoption, while supporting a dear friend dealing with infertility. This new perspective allowed me to refocus on my family, and we found success in our careers, envisioning a new life.
In time, we were blessed with another pregnancy—Daisy—who we welcomed with open arms. Just six months later, we were surprised by another announcement: I was pregnant again, with our son, Felix. Our children have often asked about their siblings who didn’t make it, and we cherish the stories they share about them, believing they remain part of our family narrative.
Our journey wasn’t easy, but it taught me the importance of adjusting our outlook and finding ways to serve others, which brought me the closure I needed.
Life isn’t fair.
After welcoming our third daughter, Grace, we hired a nanny to assist with our children while we balanced work. After a few days away for training, I returned home to find something was terribly wrong with our youngest, Felix. His head was swollen, and despite the nanny’s dismissive explanations, I knew deep down that something wasn’t right. Felix was lethargic and not herself. I reached out to our doctor, who reassured me—yet my maternal instincts kept nagging at me.
Days later, during dinner, Lily shared a disturbing story about a fall Felix had during our absence, leading my husband and me to realize the gravity of the situation. We rushed Felix to the doctor, where our lives changed forever. The police and child safety services were involved, leaving us feeling like we were guilty until proven innocent.
In the midst of chaos, we reevaluated our lives, prioritizing time with our children. We both transitioned to part-time work, ensuring we were present for our daughters’ formative years. We embraced the beauty of family life, filled with laughter, games, and precious moments together. Thankfully, Felix recovered, and we were allowed to keep our children.
Life isn’t fair.
As a high school student in Durango, Colorado, I felt like an outsider, struggling to fit in. One of my first friends, Ben, offered kindness and laughter, making those challenging days feel a bit lighter.
Through all of these experiences, I’ve learned that while life may throw unexpected challenges our way, it is our response that shapes our journey.
For those navigating the complexities of pregnancy and home insemination, there are valuable resources available. You can explore more at intracervicalinsemination.com, and makeamom.com is an excellent authority on fertility journeys. Additionally, factsaboutfertility.org offers insightful information on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, while my journey has been fraught with pain and challenges—from the loss of pregnancies to the trauma of my daughter’s experience—I have emerged with a renewed perspective on life and family. Our story is one of resilience and hope, reminding us that even amidst darkness, there is light.
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