Rising Stars: Meet Hannah Froehlich

Today we’d like to introduce you to Hannah Froehlich. 

Hi Hannah, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I never really know how to answer this question. I feel like my “story” keeps changing… but I guess that’s the point. The beginning of my story I like to always refer to as an “oops”. Literally; I was an unplanned pregnancy. My parents were in the middle of a divorce and yet, here came little Hannah – making her big debut on Christmas morning. My mom always told me that I kept her alive. She was drowning – no money, three kids, and an addict ex. I will never understand how she did it, but she did. She stayed afloat. She raised us by herself. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to discredit my father. I thank him for the trauma, abandonment, and daddy issues that I continue to have today. Hats off to you sir.

All jokes aside, my dad’s absence molded me more and more into the woman I am today. That’s what trauma does. It breaks you into pieces that then you can take back and mold together into something new and more beautiful than before.

And as I grow older, I am becoming more friendly with the idea that our stories do keep changing. There are seasons to life. Some seasons of joy and some seasons of sorrow, but sometimes certain seasons happen so that we can be prepared for another one that will happen 20 years later. The more I come to terms with the inevitable, the more peace I find in my heart when things get rough.

I turned 27 this past Christmas, and even though I have more baggage than ever before, I have more peace than before too.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
I used to think that abandonment was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. I’m almost embarrassed of how entitled I was as a young girl. Always saying “Why me? Why did this happen to me?” If I could go back and tell me twelve-year-old self she had another thing coming, I would.

High school was full of your typical heartache, drama, and rebellious attitude, but it was at this time that I fell in love with art. I loved creating and watching my ideas come to life. I also wasn’t the greatest academic scholar, so my art classes were really where I excelled the most anyway.

After high school, I really wasn’t sure what I was going to do. Everyone would continuously tell me, “College will be the best four years of your life!” All I knew for sure, was that I had to go. The only exciting thing I had going for me was that I chose to study art. However, that was really only about 50% of my classes. I definitely failed a class… or two… or seven. Although, school wasn’t the only part I struggled with. I had a hard time building a community. I had a hard time getting connected. I felt really out of place most of the time. I was in and out of relationships and found myself in really bad places. Once so bad that it changed me forever. I was sexually assaulted at the beginning of my junior year of college. It felt like someone had threw me into a dark room and closed the door. I wouldn’t leave my apartment. I watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S on repeat for weeks. Until the people in my life started to pull me out of the darkness. I slowly started to rebuild my relationships and rebuild myself.

But again, with every new season comes new joys and new sorrows. As my relationships grew, I started seeing someone again. My life felt more at ease; more normal. That was until what I thought was to be a short doctor visit for headaches turned into a long doctor’s visit with a positive pregnancy test.

Yep. Pregnant.

Here I was 21 years old, sitting in a doctor’s office alone, with all these paper packets on what my “options” were. All I could think about was “oh my god my parents are going to kill me”. I could see my cookie-cutter dream of falling in love, getting married, and having babies just BURST into flames.

My whole life, I told myself I would make sure my children never went through the heartache that I went through as a young girl. Yet, here I was, pregnant with no plan and all alone.

I struggled with what to do my entire pregnancy. I didn’t want to have an abortion, so it was either be a single mom or place for adoption. I watched my mom be a single mom. I knew how hard it would be… But I thought that at least I would know what to expect. I would know what my little girl would go through watching her mom do it alone. Adoption was scary too. My dad was adopted and his own issues with it carried out into the rest of his life. I didn’t want to do that to my child. But how do you make a decision that’s forever? Be a mom forever… or give my child to someone else forever.

I hid my pregnancy for as long as I could. I finished out the semester at school and moved back home to do online school and get a full-time job. I was doing my best to makes sure I had everything I needed if I was going to choose to parent. Simultaneously, I was meeting with a counselor from an adoption agency every week to discuss what I would need to do if I was going to choose to place.

I have never prayed so hard in my life. I was seeking guidance…. seeking answers… “God just tell me what to do and I’ll do it…” but the answer never came. I was constantly being told by other people what I should and shouldn’t do. I was constantly trying to put on a fresh face when really all I wanted to do was scream. I knew that whatever I was feeling, baby girl was feeling… so I had to step up. Every negative voice, situation, or experience I pushed under the rug. I did not have the energy to care about how I was being treated. I had to care about baby girl. I walked through 9 months of pregnancy on autopilot.

My prayers got more specific, thinking maybe I wasn’t asking the right questions or seeking the right answers. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I had this check list. If adoption was the path I was going to head down, I needed the perfect couple. It was so specific that I figured, ok – if I don’t find a family that meets all the boxes, then I am meant to parent…. and if I do find the family, then I am meant to place.

I spent 3 months looking at profiles and nothing ever came about. Towards the end of my pregnancy, I was introduced to a couple that checked almost all the boxes, and to be honest, it freaked me out. I took a step back to continue evaluating the pros and cons of my choices: like a never-ending teeter-totter of “what if’s”.

Well, that 9 months came and gone and baby girl was making her way into the world. The night my water broke, I remember thinking “I’m not ready”. I had no plan. I hadn’t made a decision. I had no time left. My mind starts racing. Maybe when she’s born and I hold her for the first time I’ll know in my heart what to do. Maybe I’ll look at her and something will click and I won’t question anymore.

That didn’t happen.

I remember the nurses putting her on my chest, looking at her eyes, and then nothing… no feeling. Granted, I’ve been on autopilot for 9 months and wasn’t FEELING anything. I spent 3 days in the hospital with her. People came to visit here and there, but for the most part, it was me and here. Baby Girl. I didn’t feel ready to give her a name. I didn’t feel ready to make a decision. All I knew, was that I didn’t want to walk into this hospital pregnant and leave without a baby. I couldn’t do it. My adoption counselor reassured me that everything I was feeling was completely ok. If I didn’t want to leave without her, then I didn’t have to. So, I took her home. One day turned into one week. One week turned into one month. I thought, maybe but not making a decision… I had make a decision. I was parenting.

I gave her a name. I shared her with my friends and family. I even made birth announcements to send out. 3 months of being a mom. Yet, the fear and doubt crept around my mind constantly. I couldn’t stop thinking about the couple that had checked all the boxes. I prayed for them, and they came. Yet I didn’t choose them.

I contacted my counselor to talk it over, and I decided to meet with the couple one last time. I brought baby girl with me, and the moment they met her, I broke inside. I knew right then and there she was meant for them and not for me. I loved her so much, and now I had to let her go. That list I had made…. was a list I have always wanted for my children. I just wasn’t the one who was going to provide her with those things – they were.

I was ashamed to admit that for a long time. I was scared that I was going to fail her either way. I was haunted by the idea that this was a decision I could never go back on. Yet there, at three months old, I placed her in her new family. I signed what felt like 1000 documents, spent our last breakfast together, and drove her to her forever home to say goodbye.

Yet my goodbye wouldn’t be goodbye forever.

Today, I hold a very special bond with my little girl. The couple and I created a very unique open adoption. I have had the opportunity to be someone she has known from the start and someone she will always know in the future. She turned four this year, and I have found so much healing and understanding through the years. My idea that the seasons we face sometimes prepare us for seasons of the future has been made clear. I have been able to share my story with others. I have been able to walk through life with other women who have gone through similar moments of life. I have leaned on others and others have leaned on me. I welcome all seasons know. I know that nothing will ever compare to that one, but I know that regardless of what I may face in the future, I can overcome anything.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Today I continue to fall in love with art. I became a teacher at an all-girls high school and have been able to share my love for art with my students for the past three years. I try to share with them the freedom that art gave me in hopes that it can give them the same.

I encourage them to get messy… to be different… to allow their weird thoughts and expressions have a voice.

We share ideas and struggles. We share dreams and beliefs. We create a space that meets the needs of us all. I try to share with them that transparency is something I will always strive to give. How can I expect them to be vulnerable if I myself cannot be vulnerable with them. I share all parts of my story with them. In hopes they feel comfortable sharing their stories with others one day too.

I have been humbled by the amount of skill that oozes out of my students. Most of them have never had to opportunity to try and art class before. I have seen students become totally new people after diving into their creative side.

It reminds me of how I fell in love with art when I was their age. It reminds me of why I do what I do.

What sort of changes are you expecting over the next 5-10 years?
If I wasn’t a teacher, I would hope to be still in an either an industry where I still get to use my creativity every day or an industry where relationships are a priority – being vulnerable and being human. We often forget how to do that… to just be completely and wholly yourself.

During the pandemic, I earned my Yoga Certification so maybe I’ll pursue something more with that in the future. Teaching yoga

Wherever I end up, I hope I still have a career that allows me to pour into the lives of others in some capacity.

Image Credits
Tiffany Campbell Photography