Three months before I discovered I was pregnant, my life felt steady and full. I was healthy, fit, and mentally grounded, genuinely enjoying every moment and learning more about myself every day. My husband, Hayden, is in the military, and in 2017, we were relocated from Fredericton, NB—the town where we met and fell in love—to Petawawa, ON, a much smaller town that would become our first home together.
We had been settling into Petawawa for about a year when Hayden received his deployment orders. He was to head to Latvia in June 2019 for six months, split into two three-month stints separated by a short two-week break. Distance wasn’t new to us; in fact, it had often strengthened our relationship. I had also grown to appreciate solitude—it was therapeutic and crucial for my personal growth.
When June arrived, Hayden left for overseas duty. I adjusted quickly, embracing independence, learning how to care for myself, and building meaningful, adult friendships. Meanwhile, Hayden was navigating intense career milestones and challenges. One of the most significant lessons I’ve learned in our four years of military life is that his professional experiences ripple into every part of our personal lives. By the time his two-week break arrived, we were both completely different people—mentally, emotionally, and physically—from when we had said goodbye.
It was on the very first day of his homecoming that we conceived. After three months apart, the intensity of being together again was overwhelming. That morning, as we began packing for the airport for his next flight, I felt an unusual wave of nausea. Months earlier, we had bought a pregnancy test as a joke, and for some reason, it was the first thing I thought of.
We decided to use it. I took the test, placed it upside down on the sink, and paced around our tiny living room for what felt like an eternity. After what was probably ten minutes, I finally looked. Two lines stared back at me, and my mind raced: “What the f*ck? I’m not ready. I did not expect this.” I immediately felt faint, collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor, and began to sob. Hayden knelt beside me, holding me close, whispering, “It’s going to be okay,” and asking, “What do you want to do?” Time blurred after that. We still had to make it to the airport, and the two-hour drive to Ottawa felt simultaneously like five minutes and twenty years. Before I knew it, Hayden was gone again, and I was heading home, alone, into a future that had just shifted dramatically.
Distance had been part of our relationship before, and in those two short years in Petawawa, Hayden had been away more than he had been home. I leaned heavily on the few close friends I had, who became my lifeline. One of them, Marlee, quickly became a constant presence in my life. She stayed with me whenever Hayden left, and we had already planned for her to stay with me when he returned overseas.
The day after discovering my pregnancy, I told Marlee. Her excitement and support were overwhelming, and we spent the day discussing the future and what this new chapter would mean. The next morning, with her by my side, I went to the hospital to confirm my pregnancy. While waiting, I ran into Jess and Aaron, a couple I had briefly met months earlier—ironically, they were there for the same reason. Jess would soon introduce me to a pregnancy group that became my saving grace. Surrounded by women sharing the same experience, I felt a sense of community and strength that was both grounding and transformative. Looking back, I see how every step felt orchestrated by God, placing exactly what I needed into my life at the right time.
That first hospital visit left me feeling alienated. The doctor I saw was dismissive, rude, and judgmental, expressing disapproval of my choice despite my repeated assurances that I intended to continue the pregnancy. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through that day without Marlee by my side.
The months that followed were challenging. The mental stability I had carefully built over the previous years crumbled. Feeling vulnerable, I quit my job and, along with my two dogs, drove fifteen hours to live with my parents until Hayden returned. Depression crept in quietly, mingling with the emotional whirlwind of pregnancy hormones, leaving me feeling unrecognizable to myself.
When Hayden finally returned for good, settling back into life together was harder than we anticipated. Six months apart had changed us both in profound ways. We had to consciously decide to grow together rather than grow apart. And that decision, like love itself, is something you make every single day.
Looking back, our journey is a whirlwind of milestones: marrying on June 3, 2017, at 19 and 20 years old; moving from our hometown two days later; conceiving in the middle of an overseas deployment; relocating back to Fredericton while eight months pregnant; and giving birth four weeks early, before even unpacking our new home. The past few years have been a series of defining moments, but nothing compares to becoming parents.
Pregnancy and childbirth taught me both my deepest vulnerabilities and my greatest strengths. Motherhood has reshaped me, challenged me, and empowered me in ways I never could have imagined. It brought battles I didn’t anticipate and a strength I didn’t know I had. This journey continues to shape me every day, molding the woman—and the mother—I am today.
