Tatiana is a determined single woman who has spent four years focused on her dream of motherhood, driven by a unsettling discovery about her fertility. Opting for artificial insemination to bypass traditional relationships, she finally embraces her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The morning Joe told me about the trip, I didn't believe it at first. It felt too good to be true, like one of those things you read about in books but never expect to actually happen to you.
But when he handed me the envelope and I saw the plane tickets, the excitement hit me like a wave—overwhelming and a little bit terrifying.
I'd been home with Ocean for nearly five months, wrapped up in this small, tight-knit world of late-night feedings, diaper changes, and the kind of love that's so deep it takes your breath away. The thought of leaving her—even for just a couple of days—felt like stepping off a cliff.
Joe, always attuned to what I needed even when I couldn't articulate it, knew I hadn't taken a break since Ocean was born. He knew I loved being a mother, but he also knew how important it was for me to reconnect with myself, outside of the role of mom.
So, when he surprised me with this trip—just me, my sister Tanya, and my best friend/sister-in-law Kyra—I was torn. He had already planned everything, down to the smallest detail, and I could tell how excited he was for me to have this time. I didn't want to disappoint him. But, at the same time, I was filled with guilt and anxiety at the idea of being away from my baby.
"Don't worry about Ocean," Joe reassured me as I paced the living room, holding the envelope in one hand. "She's in good hands with me and your mom. I'm giving you this time for you. You need it."
"I know," I said, my voice small. "I just... I'm going to miss her so much. What if something happens? What if she needs me?"
Joe smiled gently, pulling me into a hug. "You're not abandoning her, Tati. You're just giving yourself a little space to breathe. You're going to come back even more you. Trust me, she's going to be fine. And we'll all keep you updated, I promise."
That didn't exactly stop the knot in my stomach, but I could feel the sincerity in his words. And honestly, part of me wanted to go. Part of me craved the idea of a couple of days where I wasn't a mom, where I could simply be myself again. It had been so long since I'd done something just for me.
The day of the trip arrived faster than I expected. I spent the morning packing—clothes that didn't involve spit-up stains or leggings that I had worn for the past five months.
Kyra and Tanya arrived early to help me with last-minute details and to make sure I didn't forget anything important like my toothbrush, which I almost did, of course.
The excitement was palpable; they were as eager for the trip as I was, and it felt like we were doing something rebellious—like sneaking away from responsibilities for a weekend.
When we got to the airport, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me again. Ocean wasn't even five months old, and it seemed wrong to be leaving her already. I called my mom, who assured me everything was fine. She'd been waiting for the chance to babysit Ocean, and Joe would be home with her as well. Still, the feeling of being unmoored, of physically separating from her, made my heart ache.
"Go," Kyra said, handing me a coffee she'd picked up from Starbucks. "She's going to be just fine, Tati. And so are you. You deserve this."
Tanya nodded, her usual deadpan humor masking the concern in her eyes. "Besides, think of all the things we can do in Palm Springs that you wouldn't be able to do with a baby. Like sleep through the night without a single cry or... go to a spa and get a facial."
I laughed, though it didn't fully erase the lump in my throat. The plane ride felt long even though it was only a couple of hours. But the moment we touched down in Palm Springs, the sun and the dry heat immediately started working their magic, melting away the tension in my shoulders. I felt like I was being pulled into the energy of the place—laid-back, desert-chic, the kind of place where time slows down, and the only thing that matters is that you're there, fully present.
We took a shuttle to the resort, where we were staying in one of those airy, boutique hotel-style suites with huge windows that opened out onto the desert landscape.
The pool sparkled under the midday sun, and the smell of citrus from the nearby trees hung in the air. I felt like I had been transported into another world—one where I didn't have to worry about a crying baby or the chaos of my to-do list.
The first few hours were a blur of catching up, unpacking, and getting settled. Kyra and Tanya immediately started planning our meals and activities, filling the space with their vibrant energy. I felt lighter just being around them. Tanya was her usual sarcastic self, making fun of everything from the hotel's "rustic" design to the overpriced artisanal soaps in the bathroom. Kyra, on the other hand, was always the peacemaker, the one who would make sure no one got left out or upset. Her calm presence was grounding in a way I hadn't realized I'd needed until now.
That night, we went out for dinner at a trendy restaurant in downtown Palm Springs. I could feel the difference in myself already, the fact that I was no longer responsible for another person's well-being 24/7. I didn't have to think about whether the air conditioning was too cold for Ocean or whether she was getting enough to eat. I could focus on my own needs, on laughing with Tanya and Kyra over margaritas and appetizers.
But it was hard to ignore the emptiness that lingered at the back of my mind. Ocean wasn't with me. She wasn't in my arms or next to me at bedtime. Every so often, I would find myself checking my phone, almost as if I expected something terrible to happen. But Joe would send pictures of Ocean, smiling in her swing or snuggled in a blanket with Grandma. It helped to see those images, to know that she was happy and cared for, even if I wasn't there.
By the second day, I started to let go of the guilt. I had moments of clarity when I realized I was actually enjoying myself. We went to a spa, and I had my first facial in months. The masseuse worked out all the knots in my back, and I could feel myself finally releasing the tension that had been building since Ocean was born. We spent the afternoon by the pool, chatting and reading, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like me again—not just a mom, but a person in her own right.
It wasn't that I didn't love being a mom. I did, deeply. But I'd forgotten what it felt like to have time for myself, to reconnect with the things I used to enjoy before motherhood had consumed my every moment. I realized that this trip wasn't just a gift from Joe; it was a gift to myself. I needed this time to recharge, to remember who I was before I became someone else's everything.
On the final night, we went to a quiet little rooftop bar to watch the sunset. The desert air was cool and refreshing as we clinked glasses and talked about everything and nothing. I found myself laughing more easily than I had in months. It was the kind of laughter that made you feel like you were doing something right, that life could be good, even when it wasn't perfect.
When we got back to the hotel, I found that I was ready to go home. I missed Ocean terribly, and I missed Joe, too. But the trip had given me something I hadn't even realized I needed—a sense of peace and balance that I had been craving. It reminded me that it's okay to take a step back sometimes, to give myself permission to breathe.
It made me realize that being a mother doesn't mean losing yourself. It just means figuring out how to take care of both the person you are and the person you've become.
