I’ve never really considered if I was “enough,” not for any job title, not as a friend, wife, sister, daughter, etc etc etc. I’m confident I’ve fulfilled every role I’ve held to the best of my abilities. But I woke up the other day and I asked myself this question in terms of being a parent and I just started crying.

It’s not likely I can fill both roles of mom & dad. I don’t know what will happen one day and the kid starts asking for a father.

I’m getting ahead of myself, I should probably back track.

So I’m cleared.

I’m good to go. My egg follicle count is above expected. My fallopian tubes are unobstructed. My uterus is a suitable environment to grow a fetus. In theory my reproductive system is as healthy as can be for a woman my age. I say the term “in theory” because I have yet to figure out how well my body will work in practice.

I wanted to write about how I kept showing up to my fertility clinic appointments hung over and how fitting those moments were since I view my life as a Judd Apatow movie, but the reality is all this shit is serious as fuck.

You’re there in an examination room eagle-eyed spread open as an entire medical team is sticking a probe up your lady parts and you’re holding your breath hoping they tell you everything is ok as you try not to read into their facial expressions. Alone.

It’s serious shit, I’m always just trying to make jokes to cope.

God, it’s so fucking serious.

To ease my mind I’ve allowed my self-assured Leo psyche to remind me that while I not might be able to fill the role of a father, I’m pretty fucking sure I can kill the job of mom without question.

…and in the end, I’m hoping thats enough.

PS. My genuine thanks to anyone who has reached out to me who is an actual mom. Having the support of those who actually know how difficult this job is and believe in myself/my plans is a type of love that hits different. It’s gonna take an entire village and that includes care for myself as well. <3