The thing that’s been on my mind for months.

Back in October, when I last posted (has it really been 6 months?), I said there was some stuff going on in my life that I wasn’t really ready to write about publicly. I’d talked to friends and family about it, but I wasn’t ready to put it out there, on the internet.

But I think this is a pretty safe place to write about it. It’s not connected to my Facebook and I don’t know of anyone in my circle who is following this page. And at this point, enough people know that even if someone who knows me did stumble across this blog, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they read what I’m about to write.

Last April, my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. Again. The last two times she’d had it (many, many years ago), she’d been given a few weeks/months to live, but she’d kicked ass and beat it. This time, it was in her brain, along with other places, and although she started off strong and fiercely positive, it quickly took away her willpower. We had no idea there was cancer spreading through her brain when we got together for our birthdays (hers, April 3rd, mine, April 10th) mid-April 2017. By May 27th 2017, she was gone. I sat next to her for 8 hours before she died, and was there with my mom, my grandpa and my aunts when she took her last breath.

It was my first time losing someone close to me. It was my first time being with someone as they passed. It reminded me, as death often reminds people, of how uncertain life is. How fragile. And how awful it would be to be facing the end alone.

I’m not dating anyone. I haven’t dated anyone in years. I live alone (with my two adorable cats). My best friends live in the United States and I don’t have a lot of friends here. My mom and I are close, but her family either doesn’t care much for us, or lives too far away to be much help/support. And as close as my mom and I are, due to the fact that she is, obviously, older than I, there’s a good chance she’ll die before I do. (Hopefully not for many, many years.)

Basically, I am alone. And while I’m happy enough being independent — paying my bills, on my own, doing my own thing, going/doing what I want, etc. — I don’t want to die alone, with no family there. No one to mourn me. No one to remember me when I’m gone.

I’d already been thinking for a while that maybe, just maybe, I’d want to consider going the route of having kids on my own. It’s not entirely unheard of — there’s this  organization called Single Mothers by Choice that has chapters all over the world. I’ve looked into them, and they seem pretty great. For a while I just figured I’d adopt, but that I’d do it when I was 30 if I hadn’t had any kids yet. (Most Single Mothers by Choice are in their 30s and up.)

But… I’ve always wanted kids. I used to think I’d have three or four by the time I was 30, not be just starting out. I dreamed of being a mother far more than I dreamed of finding a prince charming and having some fairy-tale wedding. (Honestly, I don’t know that I ever fantasized about what my future wedding would look like.) Every birthday I’ve had so far in my adult life has just made me sad — the start of another year in which I was childless and alone.

For the record — I want kids because I want kids. Not because I feel like I should have them by now. Not due to any external pressures – societal or otherwise. I legit just want to have kids and always have.

So when my grandma passed away, I decided to hell with it. Life is short, why wait for some magical milestone (why is 30 this age where it’s “okay” to “settle” and start looking into doing this, by the way?)? At that point I had just turned 27, I knew the process wasn’t going to be a quick one, and I thought, I’m going to do this.

So I found a donor, and here I am, on my fourth cycle attempting to get pregnant. (I’ll write about how and where I found a donor later — I didn’t go the “normal” route. I’ll also write – in super general, non-TMI/non-specific terms – about how I’m going about this. Hint – there are no doctors/medical professionals involved.)

It’s already been a long road (except not really… some women try a year + to get pregnant). I’ve had one super early miscarriage/loss (cycle #2), which sucked.

But having kids is a non-negotiable for me. And if this is the way I have to go about it, so be it.

This is my life, by choice. And it’s going to be amazing. ❤

PS. I’m long overdue posting about my conversion. I’m going to backtrack, and write a whole bunch of posts about that as well. My conversion is coming up on May 27th, 2018. (And I’m starting an introductory Hebrew class this week Wednesday.) It’s been a whirlwind, and I can’t wait to share it with all of you.