For a first grade assignment I wrote a book titled “When I grow up I want to be a mother.” It was my dream to be a mom from a very young age. I grew up with six siblings and when we got married my husband and I said we wanted at least 6 kids … maybe 8.
Each one of us chose to come to this earth knowing we would face challenges and hardships in all its forms. For me, navigating the world of infertility was physically and emotionally overwhelming. I became consumed with all the “to do’s” and “not to do’s.”
I wish I’d understood at the beginning that it was ok to take care of myself, work less and give myself grace during this time, but it’s nice to feel comfortable with that decision now. I tried to keep it all together, keep working at the same level and didn’t ask for enough help. If I could go back in time I’d cut myself some slack and remind myself I’m not superwoman.
Ours is a story of secondary infertility and loss. We married February of 2005 and because I had been battling health issues for many years, Rheumatoid arthritis in particular, and didn’t know how those health issues might effect our ability to have children, we decided not to wait.
