Carrie Hauskens

The short introduction…

Hi, I’m Carrie, a freelance writer based in Northern California. My expertise is writing about infertility and the many tangents that radiate from that experience. My trademark is vulnerable and authentic writing.

After eight years of trying to conceive, multiple miscarriages, working with surrogates, and delivering my stillborn daughter, I embody all things grief and infertility based. 

I was a guest speaker at the Sharing Parents Memorial, Infertile AF Summit and the Childless Collective Summit and have published articles in The MAPS Institute and Tutum Journal.   

My first career was in education, where I focused on teaching writing skills and incorporating social and emotional learning techniques. This proficiency has cultivated my blog, newsletter, and goal curriculum I designed while dealing with infertility. I’ve completed courses with the School of American Thanatology, which focuses on the science of death, dying, grief, loss, and bereavement.

I bring intention and emotion to fact-based writing.

And if you’re into reading the longer version…

I’m not dead, yet… but If I were to die today, this has been my life:

Best known for my oversized heart, sugar cookies, and doing things my way.... I lived loud with a glass of champagne in hand. I was grateful for the chance to have this exciting adventure. 

April 9th, 1983, in central California, I made my appearance earthside. “She’s tall!” was exclaimed by the doctors and was repeated over my entire lifetime. I was my mother’s only biological child, but thankfully had my stepbrother, Jason. My mother taught us to be tough while still loving each other, which meant forgiving often and not taking any shit. My dad came in with the humor aspect and always had us rolling with laughter.  

Being a cowgirl developed a lot of my character. For my fifth birthday, I received a horse and a rifle. The gun scared me while Peppy became my everything. Competing in rodeos taught me to raise my voice when needed while being compassionate at the same time.

My love for the outdoors was a gift from my parents. Camping in Yosemite during each season showed me that nature was my church, marshmallows are best toasted, and hiking all day makes you a better human. I enjoyed nature throughout my lifetime.

As an adult, I began educating the youth, or were they educating me? Either way, I was meant to teach. Students with special needs became the reason I got up each morning. Together we learned how to stop crying under the tables and express ourselves in healthy ways. My classroom centered around laughter, dancing, and lots of kindness as we learned to navigate the world. 

My life’s most significant treasure was my husband. Bradley and I shared a great love. We met at our favorite restaurant, Sin of Cortez. I was a server, and he sat at the counter where he came in often and tipped well. When he first asked me out, I didn’t think it was OK to date a man shorter than me, and he said, “That’s not real.”  Thank goodness, because this type of love was unbelievable. 

We wanted children, but that didn’t happen. Becoming bereaved parents to Clementine after years of infertility somehow created more love between us. We were good like that. 

Travel became our passion. Bali, Italy, Denmark, and France were favorites. My most cherished journey was converting a school bus into an RV. We loved the Pacific Northwest and bringing our rescued pit bulls along. Spending days sleeping near the ocean with only marshmallows, chocolate, and champagne was exquisite.

I had some accomplishments. At the age of five, my dream was to be a teacher, school bus driver, and server. I did all three! I kept fifty-two house plants alive and finally learned to cook in my thirties. I stood up for myself when I didn’t want to ride roller coasters or watch scary movies. And I changed the lives of many students. My marriage has been the best thing in my life, though. That love was genuinely magical. 

So, in the end, remember love is the answer to everything. Cry when you need to and find people that love to laugh whenever you get the chance. But never stop loving, especially yourself.

Don’t worry about missing me...

That new leaf growing on your plant, yup! It’s me saying hi!

A champagne bottle popping open is me! Cheers!

That first sip of coffee in the morning is also me, and your welcome for that one!

And when you have dance parties in the kitchen, I dance with you. 

I love you, but you already knew that.