Young Adulthood
My story begins in 2016. I had just graduated from Vassar College with a bachelor’s degree in anthropology and had no real plan for how to use it. At 22, I found myself working at Dell as a call center agent. It was the most money I had ever earned, and for the first time, I had my own apartment, a cat, and something that felt like freedom: time. I tried to fill the emptiness I felt inside with dating, casual encounters, and creating a home that felt like a sanctuary.
Even though my life looked stable on the outside, mentally I was searching for something I couldn’t quite name. Looking back, I realize I was seeking purpose. I dove headfirst into new experiences, hoping something would spark inspiration and guide me toward change. Instead, I found myself navigating emotional acrobatics in my relationships with men, while also learning hard lessons about my self-worth.
At first, I dated with the hope of love, but after a brief and disappointing relationship with a 30-year-old man who left me feeling used and humiliated, my perspective shifted. I began dating for power and control, a way to remind myself that I was desirable and in charge of my life. I called this my “hoe phase”—a period where my relationships were intentional, short-term, and mutually convenient. I built connections, dated, ghosted, and repeated the cycle, all while learning more about myself than I had ever expected.
Eventually, the constant emotional juggling took a toll. I chose celibacy, especially after losing my job at Dell and taking a managerial position at a fast-food restaurant. The pay cut and toxic work environment were daily reminders of what I didn’t want for myself. It was during this time, at 24, that I first seriously considered single motherhood.
Being a single mom didn’t feel like a far-fetched idea. I had been raised by a single mother who supported my two older sisters and me after my parents divorced when I was five. My oldest sister was also a single mother, and I had helped raise her child. Being an aunt gave me firsthand insight into motherhood and strengthened my belief that I could do it on my own.
I began researching what it would take to raise a child independently, especially on my income, and looked into resources if my job search didn’t pan out. When I finally shared my plans with my mother at the fast-food restaurant where I worked, she sighed deeply. She warned me it would be hard. I told her she was my role model, and after another long sigh, she said simply, “Okay.” Her approval was all I truly needed, and I kept my plans private from everyone else except my family.
Finding a donor came naturally to me. I chose a coworker who already had a daughter and who I felt would be a responsible choice. He understood that I wanted to raise my child alone and that there would be no expectations for him to be involved unless planned. After some hesitation, he agreed, and we moved forward with clarity and respect for each other’s boundaries.
By the time I left the fast-food restaurant, I was already two months pregnant in January 2018. I spent the next couple of months job hunting and attending a parenting class by myself, with financial support from my family. At five months pregnant, I landed my current job with the State of Oklahoma, a position I’ve now held for three years.
High-Risk Pregnancy
My pregnancy was generally smooth, though toward the end I wished I had someone to help with the physical demands. I loved tracking my baby’s growth each week through a pregnancy app and documenting the journey with pictures and journal entries. I eventually shared my pregnancy on social media, and the response was overwhelmingly supportive.
But soon after an ultrasound, my doctor called to deliver unsettling news: my daughter had an abnormality called gastroschisis, which meant she would be born with her intestines outside her body and require NICU care. I was referred to OU Medical, where a doctor planned a sutureless surgery to correct the condition, minimizing anesthesia risks.
I was flooded with sadness, confusion, and guilt. I read every journal article I could find on gastroschisis, prayed constantly, and watched countless videos of families navigating the same challenge. I just hoped my daughter’s intestines weren’t damaged and that her NICU stay would be short.
Delivery
On July 18, 2018, one month before my due date, I had an emergency C-section. My amniotic fluid was dangerously low, and my baby had been breech for over a month. I waited eight hours for my turn in the operating room, supported by my donor’s mother. When the doctors briefly brought her to me after surgery, I whispered, “Hey, baby. This is me, this is your mommy. You’re so beautiful.” A wave of love washed over me as she tried to open her eyes. I knew the next time I’d see her, she would be in the NICU.
I named her Sienna Joy, giving her my last name and my mother’s name as her middle name. Sienna stayed in the NICU for 29 days, and holding her for the first time was pure magic, despite the wires and machines surrounding her. The thought of operating on her while so young terrified me, but her doctor continued with the sutureless approach, and her healing went as planned.
Coming Home
The day Sienna came home, I celebrated when I saw her first solid diaper—a milestone that confirmed she was ready. The early weeks were intense; maternity leave was short, and my donor visited occasionally but was largely absent. It was just me and my newborn, navigating breastfeeding, bonding, and the steep learning curve of single motherhood.
I was hard on myself, expecting perfection, but I gradually learned to accept mistakes as part of the journey. Support from my mother and sister was invaluable, and I began exploring conscious parenting, a method emphasizing self-awareness and emotional growth in parents. It helped me understand triggers, manage my emotions, and nurture Sienna in a mindful, intentional way.
Looking Ahead
Now, with my daughter nearly two years old, I’m focused on elevating our life—moving into a house, pursuing higher-paying work, and nurturing Sienna’s interests, starting with gymnastics. My story is one of resilience, self-discovery, and intentional choice. I hope it inspires others to pursue what brings them joy and purpose. Despite the challenges, I followed my calling, and watching Sienna thrive reminds me that every risk was worth it.
Her happiness is my measure of success, and everything else is a blessing.
