Many of my readers probably come to my blog looking for sneak peeks or to check out my galleries and (hopefully) hire me as their photographer. This blog post is going to be a bit different in nature, as it’s something close to my heart. Today marks the start of National Infertility Week. This also happens to be the day before my oldest boy’s birthday. The day I officially became a mom nine years ago. That journey wasn’t an easy one, and each journey towards pregnancy and a healthy baby hasn’t been an easy one. We’re one of the families that’s been affected by infertility (yes, even with 4 boys.) On average, it takes us 2 years to get pregnant, and we’ve had losses along the way too. Before we finally got pregnant with our first, we didn’t even think a two year span was an option. Instead, we had heard the words, “never be able to conceive.” I was diagnosed with PCOS, and it was so bad they really thought that babies just wouldn’t happen for my husband and I. With no other choice, we had to pray because we just couldn’t even afford a single try at invitro or any other methods to conceive. Friends got pregnant, and I was jealous. As happy as one should be watching others have babies, knowing in my heart that I’d very likely not have one of my own stung. The wound was deep. I can’t even tell you how many times I cried, pounded my fists at things and screamed. The invites for baby showers seemed to be a monthly event. I really tried to be happy for them, but there was no way I was going. Then, out of the blue a few years into our struggle, I got sick. Very sick. My husband joked that maybe I was pregnant, and I honestly wanted to punch him in the face for even suggesting it, but he was right. I’m saying this to say two things:
Never give up hope.
If you have a friend that’s struggling with it, send them a card, a note, or something that just lets them know you’re thinking about them.
Infertility is a beast, but having people you know care about you can mean the world to you when you’re dealing with it. To all those who are struggling with it, know that I’m thinking of you. I’m hoping and praying you’re blessed with a child soon. To those adopting because of it, I think that’s an even greater cause because you’re forever changing a child’s life and giving them life. It may not have come from within your body, but you ARE their life, and that’s beyond amazing. Lastly, if anyone just needs to talk, feel free to send me an email. I know how important it is to sometimes just need to vent as you’re going through that struggle.