Young Adulthood
My story begins in 2016. I had just graduated from Vassar College with a bachelor’s degree in anthropology and, honestly, no clue how I was going to use it. At 22, I started working at Dell as a call center agent. It was the most money I had ever earned, and I finally had a place of my own—a cozy apartment, my cat, and a rare sense of independence. I had time, too much of it, and I spent it searching for something I couldn’t quite name. I tried to fill the emptiness with dating, casual encounters, and decorating my home to feel like a sanctuary.
My life felt stable on the outside, but inside, I was restless. Looking back now, I realize I was searching for purpose, for something that would ignite me, push me, and ultimately transform me. What I experienced instead were lessons in self-worth and the mental gymnastics of navigating relationships with men.
At first, I dated with hope for love. Then, after a short-lived relationship with a 30-year-old man left me feeling humiliated and dismissed, my approach shifted. I began to date for power, to reclaim a sense of control and remind myself I was desirable. I called it my “hoe phase.” Relationships during this time were calculated and temporary—I knew they were fleeting, and I made sure they served me while still being enjoyable for the other person. I connected, dated, ghosted, and repeated the cycle, learning a lot about myself along the way.
Thinking About Motherhood
Eventually, the lifestyle took its toll. My energy was spread too thin, and I chose celibacy. By then, I had been fired from Dell and was managing a fast-food restaurant. The pay cut and toxic environment reminded me constantly of where I didn’t want to be. It was during this time that the yearning I had felt for so long became clear. At 24, I seriously considered the possibility of single motherhood.
The idea wasn’t as far-fetched as it might seem. I was raised by a single mother who, after divorcing my father when I was five, raised me and my two older sisters alone, ensuring each of us went to college. My oldest sister had also raised her child as a single mother, and I had played an active role in helping. Being an aunt showed me firsthand that love, guidance, and support weren’t limited to traditional family structures.
I researched what it would take to become a single mother on my income and explored the resources I could access if my job prospects didn’t align. When I finally shared my plan with my mother—while we were both at the fast-food restaurant I managed—she sighed deeply after hearing me out. “It’s going to be hard,” she said. I reminded her that she was my role model. After another long sigh, she simply said, “Okay.” Her approval meant the world to me. Beyond my family, the decision remained my secret.
Finding a Donor
Finding a donor came naturally to me. I decided I wanted someone I trusted and knew personally. That person turned out to be a coworker who already had a daughter. He was understanding, kind, and supportive of my desire to raise a child on my own. The thought of my child carrying half his DNA brought me joy, and I trusted he wouldn’t fight for custody in the future.
I explained to him why I wanted to do this alone. “Will you help me have a baby I will raise on my own?” I asked. He hesitated at first, concerned that everything between us would change. I reassured him: “Of course it will, but this is what I want.” He agreed, understanding that while he could choose to be involved, my child and I were my responsibility first.
By the time I left the fast-food job, I was already two months pregnant in January 2018. I spent the next two months job hunting while attending parenting classes on my own, supported financially by my family. At five months, I landed a steady position with the State of Oklahoma, where I’ve worked for the past three years.
High-Risk Pregnancy
My pregnancy, overall, was wonderful. I loved tracking my baby’s growth and milestones through apps, journaling, and taking photos. I hadn’t planned a maternity shoot, but I documented the journey in my own way. I finally announced my pregnancy on social media once my baby bump was visible, receiving an outpouring of love and support.
Then, during an ultrasound, my doctor called with difficult news. My daughter had a condition called gastroschisis, meaning she would be born with her intestines outside her body. She explained that my pregnancy was now high-risk and that I would need to transfer to OU Medical for specialized care. I cried, researched every possible outcome, and watched videos of other parents navigating the same diagnosis.
Sienna’s head doctor at OU explained a sutureless surgery approach, which allowed her to heal without anesthesia. While this was reassuring, the weight of uncertainty, guilt, and fear was heavy. I prayed constantly: that her intestines weren’t damaged, that her NICU stay would be brief, and that she would be born healthy.
Delivery
On July 18, 2018, a month before my due date, an emergency C-section was scheduled. My amniotic fluid was dangerously low, and Sienna had been in breach for over a month. I waited eight hours before heading into surgery, supported by my donor’s mother while my family worked.
The moment I first saw Sienna, wrapped in plastic with her intestines secured, I whispered, “Hey, baby. This is me, this is your mommy. You’re so beautiful.” I cried as love washed over me, knowing I wouldn’t see her again until she was in the NICU. She stayed there for 29 days, and the first time I held her, covered in wires, was pure magic. Each kiss, each gentle touch, brought me peace.
Her doctors considered anesthesia for surgery but ultimately proceeded with the sutureless approach, which allowed her to heal safely. My emotions fluctuated between joy when I was with her and guilt when I wasn’t. My family remained my support system, helping me navigate every overwhelming moment.
Coming Home
Finally, the day came to bring Sienna home. After a 16-hour hospital stay, we waited for her to have a bowel movement, a sign her intestines were functioning properly. That morning, she did, and I knew we could go home. Screaming with joy in the car, I called my family to celebrate.
The early days at home were challenging. My donor helped set up the crib and introduced his daughter to her new sister, but otherwise, it was just Sienna and me. Breastfeeding, bonding, and sleepless nights filled my days. I was hard on myself, believing I had to be flawless. Over time, I realized perfection wasn’t necessary, and asking my mother and sisters for guidance helped me adjust.
Conscious Parenting
I discovered conscious parenting through Dr. Shefali Tsabary, a method emphasizing self-awareness in parenting. It teaches that when children trigger us, it’s a reflection of our own unresolved issues, not their shortcomings. Applying this philosophy has helped me grow alongside Sienna, nurturing both of our emotional intelligence.
Looking Forward
Now, with my daughter nearly two, I focus on building a stable, joyful life for us. I dream of owning a home, pursuing better-paying work, and cultivating Sienna’s talents—gymnastics is first on our list. My story is a testament to following your heart, even when the path is uncertain and full of challenges.
The yearning I felt for so long was my desire to be a mother. I embraced the risks, ignored naysayers, and stayed focused on Sienna’s happiness and growth. Everything else is a blessing.
