Father’s Day came and went. I scrolled through captions with messages like “thank you to the best daddy ever,” “so thankful for all you do,” “couldn’t do this without you.”

The last one kinda struck like a dagger.

Couldn’t do this without you.

Hmm. I’d have to. Let’s say I’m blessed enough to conceive a child with as little of fertility treatments helping me out as much as possible. Let’s say the plan actually works.

It’s just gonna be me. (Fuck, I read this high and it came out in N’Sync lyrics.)

Nah, I know. The village will help. I 1,000% believe and know the village will help.

But there is no partner, no daddy, at least for any foreseeable future. Just me.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t think that I’m up for the challenge, it’s that my life has really come to this junction. We’re fucking here, guys. I made it to this fork in my life. I said I would do this for years. I’ve said it out loud enough to my closest friends and family that I’ve normalized it, I’ve digested it. But it doesn’t get any easier trying to go through the motions.

I finally made a gyno appt. to prep for an appt for a fertility clinic.

I have an initial consulting appointment at a fertility clinic—it’s next week.

It’s weird saying that out loud. It’s difficult to verbally articulate each step of this process because I barely got over the first.

I’m not scared of what happens if everything works out, I’m scared if it doesn’t. I’m scared as fuck of getting bad news and having to process the potential disappointment in not fulfilling a life long dream of mine. But that’s the cart getting front of the horse, I’ll cross that bridge if I get there—but I hope I don’t have to.

I’ll only take in this life what is meant for me and if a biological child is in the cards then I have every ounce it takes to be a single mom (and more) and if it’s not… well, there are alternatives.

I guess we’ll all find out soon enough…