To the Friend Who Stopped Calling
"I didn’t fall into this. I chose it with both hands open."
You used to call every day. Then I told you I was doing this alone, on purpose, and the calls got shorter. Then weekly. Then not at all.
I think you thought I was being reckless. That I'd regret it. That a baby needs two parents or it doesn't count.
What you didn't see: the two years of research. The appointments I drove to alone. The savings account I built dollar by dollar. The therapist who helped me grieve the version of this I thought I'd have.
I didn't fall into this. I chose it with both hands open.
I stopped waiting for someone to make my family feel real. My family was already real. It just needed one more person in it.
You didn't have to understand that. But you could have stayed.
— The Mom Who Chose With Both Hands Open
Typed. Deleted. Rewritten. Never sent.
If this letter could have been yours, you’re not alone.
Letters I Never Sent is a series by Mamentum: honest letters written to the people, places, and versions of ourselves we never actually sent them to.