Done Waiting: A Bold Woman’s Guide to a Sperm Bank Baby

While 2025 was my wake-up call, 2026 has been my year of loss—although I prefer to call it aggressive shedding.

The removal of support structures that were never actually healthy or felt good has created a profound sense of loss.

I think one of the hardest parts has been learning to hold two completely counterintuitive truths at the same time.

Relationships can be toxic and damaging to your well-being, yet still feel less scary than being alone.

Being completely overworked with no time to rest can somehow feel more familiar and safe than waking up to days with no demands.

Being around people all day—even when it doesn’t feel good—can sometimes be easier emotionally than sitting alone with your own thoughts and feelings.

I’ve learned that something doesn’t have to be healthy to feel like a support structure.

And removing it doesn’t necessarily create immediate relief. Sometimes it creates a giant empty space where something used to be.

But when I look out into the world, I’m reminded that there really isn’t rebuilding without some process of breaking down first.

You can’t grow a beautiful garden without pulling out the dead foliage.

You can’t build your dream home without being willing to demolish the condemned one sitting on the land.

Trees drop their leaves and become bare bones before entering their next season of growth.

There’s really no way around it. You have to clear out the old to make space for the new.

And I think the in-between is the hardest part.

When you’ve removed the old, but haven’t yet built the new.

When you know you can’t go backward, but you can’t see what’s ahead of you either.

That’s where I am.

And it’s scary as hell sometimes.

But just because I can’t see what’s coming yet doesn’t mean nothing is coming.

We don’t see what’s happening underneath the soil after we plant something. For a while, we just see dirt.

Nature reminds us constantly that everything has seasons. Things grow, bloom, die back, shed, become bare—and grow again.

So maybe 2026 isn’t really my year of loss.

Maybe it’s the year I finally became willing to clear out what wasn’t right for me, even without having guarantees about what would replace it.

And maybe this uncomfortable space I’m standing in isn’t the end of something.

Maybe it’s the space where the next part gets built.

DW LAW #8: Thou shall not mistake survival for living.

Done Waiting™

Nearly 2 years ago I turned into a hoarder.

But not just ANY hoarder….rather, a specialized type of hoarding geared at preserving my children’s footprint.

Not literally, but I do plan on making ink footprints like 30 copies minimum and hoarding those too. 🤣

See, about two years ago I was shocked, electrocuted, basically lit on fire with a flame torch after my cost of living increased over 300%, I had to block my entire family, and I stood up for myself professionally—which wasn’t well received.

All of my closest relationships were broken simultaneously.

And that damn money issue on top of it.

I’m very accustomed to being a loner and being alone most of my life. What I am NOT accustomed to is being on bad terms with basically all of my closest relationships simultaneously.

During that time, I grasped onto the only thing that made me feel completely safe:

My relationships with my children.

Problem was, my whole fu***ng life revolved around a commute, a job where I was the problem child, and an hourly time clock punch that had me counting on my fingers every single day trying to figure out exactly what time I could leave and still get my eight hours.

And the whole scenario started to feel incredibly punishing.

It was almost like having to continue living with your ex-boyfriend immediately after a colossal breakup because, for money reasons, neither one of you could afford to move out.

Like cool. We fu***ng hate it here, but see you in the kitchen tomorrow morning. 🤣

I hated it so bad I submitted over 700 applications in 5 months, but still no match.

Apparently everyone wants a manager, but nobody wants to pay $110K.

My community service hours were redeemed in 2000. I’m not donating tens of thousands of dollars of my time to an employer. 🤣

Meanwhile, I’d get a couple hours with my kids in the morning, spend the entire day at work, and then we’d get home around 6:30 and they needed to be in bed two hours later.

I felt like I was living for the weekends and missing my children growing up.

That anxiety led to some other weird behaviors.

I started getting up at night and watching my children sleep.

Sometimes I’d hold their hands while they slept.

Every scrap of paper they touched?

KEPT.

Every piece of art?

KEPT.

Coffee spilled all over it?

KEPT.

Cat used an entire tub of their artwork as a litter box?

KEPT. P*E SMELL AND ALL. 🤣

I literally sat there and RESTORED IT.

I started buying hand-casting kits. I boxed up their old clothes that didn’t fit anymore instead of getting rid of them.

I even started hoarding shopping receipts—specifically Dollar Tree receipts—because Dollar Tree was one of my kids’ favorite places to go. 🤣

I obsessed over my photos.

Did I have enough?

Was I documenting enough?

Was I even spending enough time with them to capture all of these tiny moments that were NEVER going to happen exactly this way again?

I’d wake up at night panicking thinking:

Oh my God. I’m missing their entire childhood.

For over a year, I desperately tried to get my footing in a life that didn’t even feel like it belonged to me anymore.

And I missed my kids so damn bad every single day.

Somehow, hoarding proof of their existence made me feel like I wasn’t missing it.

Fast forward to the last couple of weeks.

Instead of picking my kids up around 6:00 from aftercare, I started picking them up directly after school.

In fact, I’d get there before class even let out, stand on the grass and anxiously wait to see Levi’s face as he scanned the crowd looking for me.

Then we’d have the whole afternoon together.

We’d go to the creek and build a crawdad hotel.

Grab ice cream on a hot day.

F**k around outside.

Nothing elaborate.

And Levi’s mood improved dramatically.

He started talking to me WAY more.

I swear I get about 20 more hugs a day.

He tells me he loves me constantly and asks me to bend down so he can kiss me.

Instead of meeting my kids at the END of their long day and basically picking up the pieces before dinner and bedtime, I was actually getting to live part of their day with them.

And then something happened to me too.

That obsession with preserving all their scraps started to lift.

I stopped waking up at night panicking that I was missing their childhood.

Because suddenly—

I wasn’t missing it.

I was fu***ng THERE.

And that reminded me of a very powerful truth:

I didn’t need to preserve more evidence of their childhood.

I needed more of their childhood.

Apparently spending a random Tuesday afternoon standing in a creek building a crawdad hotel with my 6-year-old does more for me than an entire closet full of s**t I’m desperately trying to preserve because I’m terrified time is getting away from me.

I’m still keeping their artwork though.

Let’s not get fu***ng ridiculous. 🤣

DW LAW: THOU SHALL NOT WAIT — TO PRIORITIZE LOVE.

Who has every single food bank site and location in the entire county saved to her phone with alarm reminders set?

This girl. 🙋‍♀️🤣
Kidding on the alarms they’d be going off constantly.

It’s almost criminal how much food bank tracking I’ve been doing lately.

Here’s what they gave me on Monday (plus hella milk), and I’m headed there again this morning for another jolly old day of Christmas. 😂

My reasons for using the food bank:

1. Save hundreds of dollars.
2. Put that $$ straight into savings.
3. My kids love the variety.
4. Because it feels like Christmas every time. 🤣

Over the last 3 months, I’ve saved roughly $1,500 using the food bank. 💸

And just in case you’re questioning my food bank obsession…

I witnessed a WHITE TESLA picking up free groceries.

Yep. I thought I was hallucinating. 😂

DW Law #3: Thou shall not fear judgment.

😭

As someone who was assigned the “digital creator” label without asking for it — and without selling anything — I was genuinely shocked by my brief experience posting in online groups.

I was picked apart, thrown to the side of the road like a deer hit by a big rig, and then seemingly eaten alive, belly up, by some very interesting women who apparently ruled the chicken roost. Bok. Bok. Bok! 🐔 🤣

And as if that wasn’t severe enough, along came the groupie flies to really amplify the whole “we hate you, Maxine” vibe. 🙄

The funny thing?

I know I’m not the only one.

Online bullying is real.

I have plenty of screenshots.

I’m not posting them.

I’m taking the higher road.

But one thing has become abundantly clear:

I’m apparently not welcome in women’s groups.

Which is precisely why I’ll be creating my own.

Completely free.

Not selling a thing.

Stay tuned. 🤣

Last week I walked Levi to his 1st-grade class 3 days in a row.

And I was present for it.

In previous years, I relied on before-care to take him while I rushed off to work every morning. I’ll leave it there. 🤣

While standing in line holding his little hand and waiting for his teacher, I realized how little I actually knew about his school routine… like where to even line up on the blacktop. 🙄

I confidently walked him right up to the classroom.

They immediately redirected me.

“Nope. You line up over there.” 😂

And because some things never change, my car ended up blocked in by numerous parents parked in the red zone.

The difference?

This time I wasn’t watching the clock.

I wasn’t worried about being late.

I wasn’t in a rush to be somewhere else.

Instead, I stood there waving other trapped parents out of the parking lot and laughing at the whole situation. 🤣

Last week, I realized I needed to reprioritize my life.

And it reminded me of one of my favorite DW laws:

Thou shall not mistake survival for living.

I don’t know exactly what comes next, but I do know this:

I’m no longer willing to sacrifice the things that matter most to me for a paycheck.

Here’s to building a future that meets our needs without costing me everything. 💜

Ever wonder how influencer moms do it all?

Massive Facebook following.
Weekly videos.
Pristine white backdrops.
Four strategically placed bestselling books.
Perfectly manicured mini plants.
Custom-framed family portraits.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting at home looking at your reality:

One hundred ragged, random books shoved onto a dusty shelf.

Three dying plants.

Those dead roses your mother-in-law gave you last Mother's Day, sitting there because you know she'd notice if you threw them away.

And the family portraits?
Fifty stick-figure drawings taped to the refrigerator, hanging on by a thread, because you ran out of magnets.

I know their secret. 🤣
It takes bribes.
The TV remote.
Endless verbal warnings.

And then there is the real magic trick…A locked bedroom door.

A loud sound machine.

Total isolation from the sibling bickering just steps away.

Turns out, she is just like everyone else. 🤣

🎬 How I Broke the "Just One" Cycle (And Stopped Letting My Brain Destroy My Life)

Social media attention spans are short, so I will give you the raw data immediately🤣

Like many people I’ve faced addictions and obsessions.

My formula works if you execute it until it works, ( don’t worry no link or subscription required to access my formula🤣)

Brain: "Just 1." (Drink, smoke, text to me ex…).
You: "Why?"
Brain: "To feel better.”
You: "I’m ok with how I feel right now."

Hang up.

🧠 Why It Works
You refuse the bait. To be seduced by "just one," you must believe your present feeling is a problem requiring an immediate solution.That is why people swap addictions—quit drinking, start smoking.

True freedom is simple: Accept how you feel without trying to change it.

🚨 The "No-Treatment" Option
I’ve never been to treatment but I believe in it. This isn’t a let’s compare and contrast treatment to Maxine’s “stealthy mind F strategy 🤣” . I didn’t crack the code on addiction- I learned how to stop fighting with the thoughts that led to my behaviors that were sabotaging my life. No it’s not bc I’m exceptionally smart it’s bc I had decades of “alone time” ( more like isolation) to figure it out 🤣🤣

The "Healthy" Addiction Trap
Trying to escape your feelings with "healthy" habits is just the core problem wearing a nicer outfit.

If you only feel good after a rigid 4:00 AM routine (run, sauna, journal), you are locked into a cage the minute you miss a sweat session( fellow exercise addicts I know you feel this).

The second you miss a step, the anxiety and obsession flood back. "Healthy" addictions still cause emotional suffering and deep isolation.

🎯 The Caveat: Beginner for Life
Your brain’s goal is comfort and laziness- it’s gonna hit you with “just one more” indefinitely. Daily practice required for any results at all🤣

Why Me Syndrome😕
Honestly you don’t need to look far for answers. Diagnostic tool: Were you ever exposed to “prolonged threat” as a child? There’s your answer. Move on.

Knowing the root cause removes self-blame. People underestimate how their environment drives behavior. That’s bc somewhere along the way many of us were made to believe we were the problem( not the abuser or poisonous environment 🙄).

The past is over. Stop replaying the miserable movies.

Learn to accept how you feel. Your environment is the gatekeeper. Pull out the weeds. Grow some flowers. Gate your garden . And never give up.❤️

PS: Deeply apologize there isn’t an easier more permanent route. If I discover one I’ll update you immediately 🤣🤣