Two pink lines. One much fainter than the other, but there were undeniably two lines.
I will never forget that moment standing in our tiny bathroom. I held the home pregnancy test up to my husband and we stared at each other in disbelief. Over the next couple of days four more home pregnancy tests (what can I say? I was excited!) and two blood tests would confirm it: we were pregnant!
We excitedly began brainstorming creative ways to tell our family and, of course, how to share it on Social Media. Even more important than the cute announcement picture, I knew we needed to open up about our journey to pregnancy.
From what we see in the media and on Facebook, getting pregnant seems simple, fun, and easy; but one in eight couples struggle with infertility. We learned we were part of that one in eight shortly after we began trying to conceive.
I always had an inkling in the back of my mind that getting pregnant might be more difficult than I wanted it to be, but nothing quite prepares you for the rush of emotions that hit when a doctor tells you there is something wrong and you won’t be able to do it on your own.
As a woman, I felt completely betrayed by my body. We are told that God created us with the amazing, unique ability to grow and create life; it’s something to be proud of and something to cherish. Then one day you find out that your body has a hard time with that God-given purpose. Modern medicine, miracles, and “God’s perfect timing” aside, I just wanted my body to work.
As a couple, we not only had to face the reality that our dream of a family would take longer to accomplish, we had to prepare for a litany of medical appointments and tests. We had to answer difficult questions and be open about a very private, intimate part of our relationship; often to doctors we had just met.
The Lord redeems all things for good, and I would not change a single thing about our story. David and I saw our relationship stretch and grow in incredible ways, and we felt bolstered by a wonderful support system of family and friends. There are blessings in every circumstance. I don’t share our story to complain or make anyone feel sorry for us, but to try to bring awareness to an issue that is very common but often not discussed.
I want to give hope to the woman scrolling through Facebook who cries at yet another pregnancy announcement, or comfort to the couple who want children more than anything, but it’s just not happening how they envisioned. I understand you, I feel your pain, I will never tell you that your current struggle will make your future kids “that much more precious,” and I hope by sharing our story, I can make your journey a little less taboo.
The road to pregnancy looks different for everyone. Our road included eight months of trying, a litany of blood tests and invasive exams, countless doctors’ appointments, a lot of money spent, an initial diagnosis of Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, and a re-diagnosis of Chronic Anovulation which culminated in a round of Clomid and ultimately getting pregnant with our current little love.
We need to respect the differences in our stories; one size does not fit all and that’s beautiful. It is my hope that we can talk more freely about the story behind the cute announcement picture and celebrate those stories with genuine joy.