July through September of 2018 was an insane time in my life. I was fighting with everyone I loved, my boyfriend included. I was transitioning back into college life. I was, quite honestly, using sex as a bit of an outlet and being a little bit reckless with how I was going about it.

I thought that my life couldn't possibly get any worse, I put way too much faith in my birth control, and I stopped caring about much else. Until I had a bleeding incident that made no sense and I was launched into a week of doctor's appointments, unanswered questions, and heartbreak I hadn't seen coming.

In September that year, I went to the campus health center because I had some unexplained bleeding and a lot of pain a few days prior and my boyfriend and I desperately wanted answers. I had googled my brains out and couldn't find the answer myself and the doctors in the health center were also at their wit's end.

It took 2 false negative pregnancy tests, a clean STD screening, one gynecological exam, and 4 positive pregnancy tests for me to get the news that I was pregnant.

Well, not exactly pregnant. Miscarrying.

I had what is known as an ectopic pregnancy. Basically what that means is that an egg was fertilized outside of my uterus but it obviously couldn't survive there without risk of damaging my internal organs so my body aborted it.

When I got that news I was relieved at first. I wasn't going to be a mom. But then I told my boyfriend and he didn't take it quite as well. He kind of went on a bit of a spiral about how awful it would have been if we'd had a kid and then disappeared on me for a few days.

I don't blame him for that. It was a lot for one person to understand and to process. He needed the time to be in his thoughts and navigate what to do. I'll admit I'm a little resentful that he wasn't there for a lot of it. But we were young and it was scary. Fight or flight took over. I would have run if I had the option.

I went through the hardest two weeks of my life. I cried a lot. Both from pain and from a loss I didn't even realize I cared about. I felt empty and I felt bad for myself. I found myself missing a baby I hadn't had the chance to grow or even know existed.

But if I'm being honest with you, I'm glad it happened.

I had a lot of time to think about what my life would have been and where my relationship would have gone if I hadn't miscarried. My relationship definitely wouldn't have survived. We weren't ready. Our relationship wasn't strong enough to handle taking care of a baby and all of the growing up that comes with that.

Sure, we were in love, but we weren't in any way strong enough together to take on a new life together. The miscarriage showed us that more than anything. Just miscarrying nearly drove us to break up.

I know that I have always wanted to be a mom. But very highly doubt that I would have been able to finish school. I would have had to go home to my parents and put my life on hold for a new one.

I have all of the time in the world to have a child and be able to raise it the way I have always dreamed. I wouldn't have been able to be the mother I hope to be had I stayed pregnant.

The pregnancy terminated itself way before there was a chance for a heartbeat or noticeable growth. That made the understanding of the miscarriage that much easier.

It was one of the hardest times in my life and talking about it still makes me a little sad sometimes.

I wouldn't change what happened because it made me think about my life, where it's headed, and what I need to do to keep it headed in that direction safely.