I thought that I was doing the right thing: waiting until I was married, had a high level of education, and secure in my position at my job to have children.
A year went by and nothing. I researched and made some changes. Another year of nothing. No missed periods. No miscarriages. Friends that were trying were holding beautiful babies in their arms. Friends that weren’t trying were holding beautiful babies in their arms.
I was scared, but after two and a half years of no success, I finally went to the OB-GYN during the pandemic. All the tests were normal. During the last test I took, the nurse said that sometimes, infertility is a mystery. I was broken. I was angry. I felt like a failure. I was fighting with my husband. I hated myself and questioned why my body wasn’t “working”. I knew something needed to change because none of my thoughts and feelings were helpful.
I started to change my perspective about my body and how I felt about it. Every day, I am grateful for my body and how it works, instead of just focusing on what is lost. I also think about other possibilities for my family. A friend recently revealed to me that her dad was adopted, and it gave me hope.
Infertility feels like death and loneliness, but it can be an opportunity for things and people you never would have considered. I’m excited and hopeful now, even with the possibility that I’ll never get pregnant. I want others to know they are not alone, and they can learn to appreciate their bodies.