If you’re someone who “makes things”—in any creative medium or artistic practice—I’m writing this for you. And for me, as a reminder for my next project.
I’m currently in the midst of releasing the second season of Aborsh, my podcast about abortion in Canada, while preparing for the remount of its companion project, my solo show Hypothetical Baby, which explores the practical and personal complexities of deciding whether to become a parent. These projects have been my creative focus for the past five years, and I want to share the journey behind creating them.
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Because both the play and podcast are rooted in pressing social issues, most conversations I have with audiences tend to focus either on their own abortion experiences or the societal questions my work explores. And I love those conversations—it’s why I created these projects in the first place: to normalize abortion and connect reproductive choice to the larger issues we’re all reckoning with.
What I talk about less often, is the messy, nonlinear, frustrating (and, yes, sometimes, fun) process of bringing ideas to fruition. This isn’t about the creative sparks but rather the practical grind: the unglamorous but essential job of building the infrastructure for your work—a task that demands time, patience, other people, money, and, frankly, an irrational belief in yourself. When a project finally meets an audience, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Beneath that moment of visibility lies years of unseen effort.
I’ve always appreciated when artists pull back the curtain and reveal the not-so-sexy parts of the profession. So, this is my contribution to that ethos of transparency. Here’s an approximate timeline of the past five years of making Hypothetical Baby:
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December 13th, 2019: The opening scene of the play is a verbatim account of a conversation I had with my doctor on this day about getting an abortion. When I realized he wasn’t going to help me navigate the process, it was upsetting and enraging—but also my writer-brain immediately registered the conflict. I literally heard a voice (or had a thought that felt like it was speaking to me) say: This is a scene!
The play’s first draft on my computer is dated February 17th, 2020. It’s cringy and half-baked, but it got the ball rolling. The working title was Aborsh, a nickname my friend and I used for our abortions. A month later, the world shut down.
Stuck inside, I wrote more. With theatres dark and amidst massive uncertainty, the Canada Council for the Arts introduced a program called Digital Now to support artists during the pandemic. I applied, got the grant, and planned to create an audio play but as my research and creative preferences evolved, the project morphed into a podcast.
In April, I applied to Nightwood Theatre’s Write from the Hip program and wasn’t selected. It was a bummer for my pandemic-self, though I had no way of knowing that the same company would eventually produce the play.
In June, I emailed Courtney Ch’ng Lancaster with the subject heading ‘directing?’: “So… I’ve written a one-woman show about abortion. I have a working draft that I feel is ready for some kind of workshop and development; how we do this during COVID admittedly… not sure. I’m reaching out to see if I can talk to you about this piece and if you maybe would be interested to come aboard the team as a director?”
That summer, I applied for grants from the Canada, Ontario and Toronto Arts Councils for a development workshop. I got the federal and provincial grants but not the municipal one. At the end of 2020, I applied for four Recommender Grants and received one.
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2021 was a year of intense writing, mostly for the first season of the podcast for which I applied for and received some additional funding from the Canada Council, and continued to develop the play. I applied for the Cayle Chernin Award (for the second time) and persistence paid off. I applied for production funding from all the Arts Councils, for both the spring and autumn deadlines, and none were approved. I applied to two theatre festivals and got emails about “the high volume of strong submissions.” In November, Courtney and I did our first in-person workshop for the play. I approached all the usual suspects—artistic and associate directors of theatres across the country—but no bites.
2022 entailed more writing, more applications, more rejections—but also progress. I applied to the Toronto Arts Council for podcast funding and was turned down. I applied to Write from the Hip again and wasn’t selected. I was shortlisted for a new work presentation program but ultimately not chosen. I applied to those theatre festivals (again) and was wished all the best with my creative endeavours. In June, I released the first season of Aborsh, two weeks before the overturning of Roe v. Wade. A mentor emailed me, asking, “Are you going to produce your play now?” I emailed back, “No one seems interested. I’ve made a podcast instead.” They told me to reapply for the grants. I did, and this time, I got them.
Having given the manuscript a rest while I focused on releasing the podcast, I returned to the play and started doing readings for friends and rewrites and renamed it Hypothetical Baby. I circled back to all the usual suspects to see if any theatres might have renewed interest, given the warm response to the podcast and the renewed “relevance” of abortion after Roe—but still, no bites.
2023 began with receiving funding from the Toronto and Canada Arts Councils to develop the second season of Aborsh. The year focused on writing and researching the podcast while preparing for the play’s premiere, which opened on December 13th—four years to the day after that doctor’s visit sparked it all.
In 2024, I focused on creating the second season of Aborsh—a simple statement entailing hours of work, but that’s an essay for another day. Which brings us to the present: the rollout of the podcast and the remount of Hypothetical Baby with Nightwood Theatre and the Howland Company.
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Of course, throughout all this, I was also working my “normal” jobs. This was a simultaneously all-consuming and part-time labour of love.
I’m not sharing these “receipts” to valorize my resolve. I’m sharing them to remind myself—and anyone else who needs to hear it—how normal it is to face resistance, both internally and externally. For those days when the work feels stagnant, my blood sugars low, and I’m questioning why I even bother, or if anyone will care, I want to remember that the slog is often part of the story; it comes with the territory—and all those platitudes that are peevishly and profoundly true.
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If you have the creative impulse to make things, you’re also probably a sensitive, reflective person. That doesn’t always pair well with the realities of putting yourself out there, especially when you’re not getting the feedback you’d hoped for, or when it feels like no one is picking up what you’re laying down. Setbacks can feel deeply personal. But it’s worth remembering: the art we love and that inspires us likely had a circuitous journey and involved pushing past bumps and blocks in the road.
Hypothetical Baby wouldn’t exist without countless drafts, grant applications, and the support of collaborators and mentors who believed in the work—even when I thought, “maybe this is just supposed to be a podcast.”
What I want to remind myself for the next marathon of creating, is this: take the long view and keep going. The messy parts of the journey aren’t signs you’ve failed, they’re part of the process and proof that you’re still on the path towards “making something.”
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Hypothetical Baby, a Nightwood Theatre production in association with The Howland Company, runs February 22 – March 8, 2025 at Factory Theatre Mainspace; written and performed by Rachel Cairns; directed by Courtney Ch’ng Lancaster. Visit factorytheatre.ca for tickets.
Throughout the run of Hypothetical Baby, there will be a series of post-show talkbacks:
- February 23 – Universal Contraceptive Care
- February 27- Sexual Education 2.0
- March 2 – Theatre as a Catalyst for Change *Supported by the (Re)Setting the Stage project at York University
- March 4 – The Future of Abortion Advocacy
- March 6 – Affordable Housing: Reproductive Justice’s Foundation
- Date TBD – Reproductive Choice in a Climate Crisis
Cairns’ interview with Sesaya Arts about the world premiere of Hypothetical Baby in 2023 is available here.
© Rachel Cairns, Sesaya Arts Magazine, 2025
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Sesaya Arts Magazine invites guest contributors to share stories and experiences from their perspectives and is grateful for their contributions.