Infertility

After spending our first year of marriage as newly-weds, my husband and I were ready to have a baby. We decided that we should just “see what happens” when it came to starting our family. We wouldn’t prevent, yet we wouldn’t be trying. This continued for a year with no success. After a visit to my OBGYN, being put on Clomid for 4 months, we still had no positive test. No pregnancy. It didn’t make sense. Was it my body failing us? My husband? None of my friends were having any complications. My mother and sisters all had children of their own with zero issues, why couldn’t I? We spent the next few years as regulars at our fertility center.  We were...

Two years ago, this month, we were in the midst of a medication cycle to prepare my body for our second and final frozen embryo transfer. That period in time was filled with anxiety and hope. I can’t imagine what I would have done or how I would have felt if my doctors had called to tell me I couldn’t finish my cycle, we would have to delay the embryo transfer and they weren’t sure how long it would be before I could start another medication cycle again. I can’t imagine what it feels like to have to delay your deepest desires to build your family. Six years ago, we were longing for a child, longing for a successful pregnancy...

“So when are you going to have a baby?” I knew the routine. While I wanted to lecture on infertility and inappropriate questions, I slapped on my fake smile and uttered through gritted teeth “we’re working on it.” This seemingly innocent, albeit nosy, question was so painful to answer. My husband and I suffered through years of infertility, not knowing if we would ever become parents. We found out later that 8 of my miscarriages likely occurred because of chromosomal abnormalities, causing me to miscarry early on in each pregnancy. A little background. My husband and I met in October 2002. We married in June 2005 and decided to wait a few years before we started trying to get pregnant. We both come...

I didn’t miscarry my baby. I felt her die inside of me. I felt every contraction for days. I cried & begged & pleaded for life. I didn’t lose my baby. I was painfully aware of that life bleeding out of my body. She’s not lost, I’ll never forget her.  It’s been three years and I’m still plagued with thoughts who she would have been. I still cry over never getting to see her face or feel her move. Despite my doctor’s kind reassurance, I still fall into the black hole of “what if it *was* something I did.” Even when we did get pregnant again, I spent nine months holding my breath. I lied about date of my last period because I...

You know how you feel when someone punches you in the stomach and you lose your breath for a few minutes? That is how I’ve felt about writing lately. As in for over six months. Traumatic experiences tend to mark you in some way and can take the wind out of your sails. Well, it has left me literally speechless. I’ve been writing for this blog for two years now. I love that moms from all backgrounds can share their stories and experiences, even sometimes regarding the same topic. There’s always something interesting and relatable. But lately, I’ve only been able to produce the monthly event guides, which are just the facts and don’t tell you anything about me at...