Society tells us to graduate; pursue a career; travel; build a home for ourselves; get married; and eventually, start a family. However, what we don’t realize is how this sequence of events can put so much pressure on women and make them feel like they’re racing against a clock.

I never felt the hands of time pressuring me in my own decisions until one day that sequence of events became challenged by a diagnosis that left me confused and incredibly vulnerable at an age where motherhood was the last thing on my mind.

I was 26 years old when I was suddenly admitted into the hospital after experiencing extreme pains in my lower abdomen. I was also 26 years old when I was diagnosed with endometriosis. I was 26 years old when the challenges of fertility were explained as a potential complication associated with my condition; and I was 26 years old when I in turn fell into a deep depression. At 26, I wasn’t thinking about whether I could or couldn’t be a mom; I assumed that would happen naturally for me. But when suddenly I was diagnosed with a condition that would challenge that assumption, my priorities immediately shifted from chasing my career to chasing motherhood.

It’s hard being diagnosed with a condition, learning of its potential challenges, and being explained options available to you when for me, at 26 years old, I was no where near ready to have a child. Instead, all of this information lingered in my mind, drowned me in sorrow, and challenged me both physically and mentally for a very long time.
In my first year of diagnosis, I remember how hard it was to see a pregnant mother; a newborn child; or even families walking down the street. Despite having no idea what challenges may or may not arise in my future, the what ifs ate me up inside and spat me back out weaker than I had ever been. That, paired with the side effects of medication, made for a very dark place where misery truly does love company.
I thankfully found my way out of this dark phase of my life with the help of a pen and paper (or in today’s more modern reality — my laptop). I took every ounce of raw emotion that, at the time, was oozing out of me in abundance, and wrote the poem that today is known as The Lighthouse.

I was beginning to feel hopeful, but more than anything, I was starting to feel acceptance.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.

I couldn’t foresee what my future would hold so I learned to let go of the worry and pain that kept me hostage and learned to accept whatever plan God had for me.