May 14, 2023
On Mother’s Day last year I woke up terribly early—too early for a Sunday, anyway. My bags were packed, gas tank full, and I grabbed my water bottle and some Perfect Bars to hold me over on the 4-hour drive to Philadelphia.
Just three months prior I was daydreaming about this day. About how Mother’s Day 2023 would be extra sweet, and how I’d be in the glow of the second trimester of my very first pregnancy, celebrating with my own mama the upcoming arrival of a next generation for our family.
Those dreams were quickly dashed away with my miscarriage earlier that spring. Part of the pain of pregnancy loss is having to walk through the next months of holidays and milestones that you thought you’d still have your baby with you—Mother’s day, vacations, family gatherings, the expected due date, Christmas.
So, last year, I didn’t spend Mother’s Day how I had originally anticipated. But I did the next best thing.
I went to see Taylor Swift.
In true Midnights fashion I was in a sleepless nights era at the time — not knowing how things were going to end with our fertility,1 or how we were going to get through a lag in business. But also knowing that one day I’d sleep fully again, that we’d come out on the other side of it knowing how the story ends.
I went to the concert alone. Exorbitant ticket prices scared away any realistic thoughts of my husband coming as my companion, and I didn’t dare put any friends in the position of having to choose between Mother’s Day plans and the Eras Tour. It was a practical choice to go alone, but it was also what I emotionally needed.
I savored every minute of the long drive to Philly in solitude, blasting TS’s entire discography. I spent the afternoon walking the city blocks, marveling at the hotel lobbies full of concert-goers curling their hair, their makeup palettes laid out across lobby carpets, all camping out until their rooms were ready for occupation.
I joined the pilgrimage of Swifties navigating SEPTA to get to Lincoln Financial Field, picked up a few friendship bracelets in exchange for taking some photos of friend groups, and settled into my seat with a Cherry Coke (or was it Pepsi?), just in time for Gracie Abrams and Phoebe Bridgers. I (mostly) quietly took in Taylor’s 3.5-hour performance, trying to memorize every detail.
I forgot about Mother’s Day, and for the first time let myself be lifted from my months-long slump. It was a gorgeous evening, a spiritual kick-off to the summer, and I vowed to hold on to this aura enveloping me. Moving forward, I’d channel all that was holy of Taylor Swift. Voluminous hair. Painted lips. Finding the meaning. Being happy. Surprising everyone everyday (including yourself) just how much you are capable of. Loving feeling strong and healthy. Putting on the best damn show every day. Letting creativity take you where you need to be.
October 21, 2023
Fast forward five months to October. I’m in a fancy new AMC in the Lower East Side with the people I had always wanted to enjoy the Eras Tour with, watching the concert movie on an impossibly large screen. Sitting in my best dress (fearless), red lip, and friendship bracelets and rings, taking it all in once more.
In the back of my mind, I was also wondering if this would be my lucky cycle and if I was finally carrying the baby that would join us earth side. Maybe, just maybe, there was another little soul sitting here with us in this dark theater, subliminally taking in the sounds of an artist at unprecedented height.
It was too early to test, but the hope and possibility of those days during the “two-week wait” always felt so magical.
Just a few days later I got my answer: yes.
April 19, 2024
Happy The Tortured Poets Department release day to all who observe. We are in a new era—of knowing and being reminded that no matter how bejeweled our outer lives seem, we all wrestle with madness and broken hearts.
Just days earlier I had experienced the first of two sequential chemical pregnancies. This was the first cycle we had tried since my miscarriage, and I was thrown for (yet another) loop to see a second line on that pregnancy test, but immediately knowing it was not dark enough to last.