Ash Thoreau

Here’s the truth: I want to move forward, but I’ve been stuck. For a while now, I’ve avoided this blog because I didn’t know how to share what’s been going on. But continuing to post like nothing happened has felt dishonest—like I’m ignoring the elephant in the room while it quietly crushes my chest. So today, I’m opening up.

Back in April, my husband and I found out I was pregnant. After the initial shock passed, we were filled with joy and hope. Then, in June, we found out I had miscarried.

It was devastating—emotionally, physically, spiritually. What no one tells you (because we don’t talk about this enough) is that the aftermath of a miscarriage is highly traumatic. Now it seems obvious, but I wasn’t prepared for the emotional fallout or the physical toll. I’m still walking through that process, appointment by appointment. If all goes well, I’ll have one final test this Friday that might mark the end of this chapter of hospitals and doctor offices. Cross your fingers for me.

That’s as much as I can bring myself to share for now. It still hurts too much. I keep catching glimpses of that alternate timeline, the one where everything turned out differently. Every time, it feels like something was stolen from me.

To cope, I’ve been hyperfixating—this time, on creating a plan. A really big plan. I’m cautiously optimistic it’ll lead to something good.

A recent spiral of depression collided with a reality check: my 39th birthday is just around the corner. Believe it or not, I became excited for my midlife-crisis-age. I suppose it’s not really a crisis then, huh? I’m going to be using it as fuel. I’m done letting life pass by while I sit on the couch, exhausted from 12-hour night shifts and full-time toddler-wrangling. My daughter is watching me, and I want her to see a mother who fights to reclaim her life.

Don’t get me wrong—I cherish the little things. The quiet, everyday moments matter. But I also want more. I need more. And no matter how impossible it feels when you’re sleep-deprived and burnt out, I believe I can do something about it.

So I’m launching a personal project: The Midlife Challenge.

It’s a two-year journey over my 39th and 40th year of life to reclaim myself, one small step at a time. The goals are multi-tiered—from simple daily wins like “drink 120 oz of water” to dream milestones like “travel to Scotland.” Some are mundane. Some are massive. All of them matter.

Right now, I’m calling this the “soft launch.” I’m testing the waters with some preparatory goals these last few weeks of July so that I’m ready to officially kick things off in August—just in time for my birthday. I’ll post weekly blog updates and plan to share daily check-in reels on Instagram to keep myself accountable.

This isn’t just a project. It’s a path to a new life direction.

If you have ideas, suggestions, or questions—drop them in the comments or shoot me a message. I’m open to all the wisdom and encouragement you’ve got.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading this rollercoaster of a post. I look forward to sharing my journey with you.