When I first learned I would not be able to have children the good old fashioned way, I found myself questioning why. Why was my body broken? Why was my husband’s? Were we being punished? Why couldn’t I just be “normal”? But as time passed, I grew very comfortable with being infertile and cherish my infertility. It’s part of ME. And it’s what makes my family unique.
Why I’m Grateful for Years of Infertility
Two years after we happily walked down the aisle of a Catholic church and exchanged our wedding vows, we found ourselves in an unfamiliar place.
It was a place I never pictured we’d need to be.
I sat nervously twiddling my thumbs with my pants pulled down and a thin paper draped over my lap.
This is it, I thought. This is the beginning of our family…
It was the beginning of our first round of infertility treatments with a reproductive endocrinologist, and we were making plans based on what things looked like “down there” and “in there.”
The appointment ended 20-minutes later.
And even though we left with a plan to get pregnant, I cried as my husband and I walked out of that clinic.
The reality that we were now one of those couples — you know, the 1 in 8 who experience infertility — was almost too much of a burden to bear.
I felt like we had done everything right. We had good jobs. A beautiful home. We were paying off our student loans, and we were financially secure. We started asking ourselves, What’d we do to deserve this?