I told my mom I was infertile after years of trying.

Her response cut deeper than anything I’d ever heard: “Maybe it’s karma.”

I froze, unable to comprehend how the woman who raised me could meet my pain with judgment instead of comfort.

That day, I blocked her number and shut her out of my life.

Months passed. Then one afternoon, I received a letter from her.

My hands shook as I opened it, unsure of what to expect.

There was no apology, no acknowledgment of the hurt she had caused.

Instead, tucked inside was a single flyer — information about a local adoption agency,

with one word scribbled on the margin: “You.”

At first, anger flared. Was this another way to belittle me?

But as I read through the flyer, something shifted.

For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of possibility.

Maybe becoming a parent wouldn’t look the way I had always imagined,

but it could still happen. Perhaps this wasn’t a cruel reminder,

but a door opening where I had only seen walls.

I haven’t spoken to my mom since, and maybe I never will.

But I kept the flyer. It sits on my desk as a reminder that even in the harshest moments

, unexpected paths can appear. Sometimes,

life doesn’t give us the answers we long for — but it does give us chances to create new beginnings.