I tried to abort this pregnancy 4 times.

At the heart of my life's story is an intimate tale of struggle, resilience, and unexpected transformation. I found myself in a maze of fear and confusion when I discovered I was pregnant, twelve weeks along, a reality that seeped in when the stimulants I was consuming, the Redbulls and coffee, couldn't battle my unusual fatigue. My life at the time was a whirlwind, juggling two jobs, squeezing in naps in my car during breaks – a stark contrast to my habitual aversion to daytime sleep.

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Work was my excuse to not be around my child.

Every nuance in this image speaks volumes - the weight of #Stress, the tinge of #Sadness, and the pang of #Loneliness. In that moment, I felt a fragment of my identity slipping away, my cherished #Independence fading into the background. Nostalgia tugged at my heartstrings, as I yearned for my family, the sun-drenched days of LA, the laughter-filled brunches with my girls, the familiarity of my front yard, and even the scent of #Weed permeating the air each morning in my backyard. Homesickness gripped me, intensified by the absence of the familial #Support I longed for while raising my precious little one.

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