Waiting on a Miracle: My Infertility Story

“Don’t feel upset or mad at all. Don’t feel regret, or sad at all.”

My daughter is going through a serious Encanto phase. I’ll be honest, it’s not my favorite Disney movie. The music, however, written by Lin Manuel Miranda, is very catchy and good to listen to on its own. We’ve listened to the Encanto soundtrack so many times that I’ve practically memorized it.

These past few weeks, every time I learn of another friend, or even celebrity that is pregnant or has recently had a baby, this song line from Encanto pops into my head.

It’s not that I’m not happy for my friends. I am so over-the-moon excited for them, and their sweet babies. It’s just an old wound that resurfaces from my chronic struggles with infertility.

Almost two months ago, I was absolutely sure that I was pregnant. All of the signs were there, and being a second-time mom, I figured I should know. My period was late, I was nauseous, I had some food aversions, but the most tell-tale sign to me was a “pulling” cramping feeling that rolled back and forth across my abdomen. I was so sure, that when asked by a coworker if I wanted more kids, I whispered across the table “I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant right now.”

TTC = Trying to Conceive

Let’s bring it back to when we were “trying to conceive” before I got pregnant with Madison. We had been trying on-and-off for about a year, with nothing really happening. We started actually tracking ovulation and trying more “intentionally” for another 4 or so months. Still nothing. I went to see the doctor who ran a bunch of tests and found nothing really wrong.

We were going to go through one more cycle of trying before we could get a referral to a fertility specialist. Around that same time, my husband’s grandfather, “Bepop,” passed away.

“My Beautiful Granddaughter.”

Bepop and I were very close. We had a special relationship. At gatherings with my husband’s family, I was drawn to him like a moth to the flame. I loved listening to him tell the same stories over and over again. From the first day we met, he treated me like one of his eight grandchildren. He started his letters and cards with “My beautiful Granddaughter.”

Bepop was very enthusiastic about Ben and me tying the knot. Once the papers were signed, he was very vocal that we should have children as well. “I want a great grandson from you before I turn 90” he would tease me.

The last time I saw Bepop was Thanksgiving 2019. We sat in the back corner of the party chatting. Ben’s cousin had just had a baby boy, and he was the great excitement in the room. I asked Bepop if he was happy that he finally got a great grandson. He looked up at me and patted my hand, “Yes… I’m happy… but I still really want a great grandchild from you. I pray every day for you.” Even though he was basically blind at this point, he looked right at me. The expression on his face was so telling. Without me saying a word – he knew what I was going through.

Bepop passed away February 2020. March 2020, I found out I was pregnant.

My daughter, Madison, is named after Madison County, FL, where Bepop was born and is now buried. I believe with my whole heart that she was a gift from him.

Miracles Happen Once in a While

Fast-forward back to present day, when I was walking around experiencing every pregnancy symptom possible a month after my Dad’s passing… of course I thought, “Oh my gosh, can it be? Did Dad make another miracle happen?” Once again, we’ve been trying since Madison’s second birthday, but hadn’t been really paying attention because of all of the chaos with my dad’s situation.

Imagine the utter disappointment I received when I saw only one solid link on that pink pee stick. That single, darkened line ran right through my heart. A resounding “not pregnant,” clear as day.

“Am I going crazy?” I said to my husband. “No,” he replied, “You’ve been through something traumatic, and your mind and body are just searching for joy.”

A Silent Struggle

No one talks about how trying to conceive actually sucks. It is such a mental roller coaster of anticipation and excitement, and then disappointment You become so hyper-aware of every pain and pinch in your body that you’re constantly distracted. It’s taking something as joyful as intimacy with your spouse and turning it into a business transaction. Some kind of child-creation factory where you’re “on the clock.”

Also, fertility, pregnancy, birth, and raising children are all subjects that people are so opinionated about. For some reason, when it comes to babies and children, people just feel like they can share whatever they think, regardless of whether or not you even asked for their opinion. Sometimes I try to open up to someone and share what I’m dealing with, but I’m quickly met with “Just relax!! I didn’t try AT ALL with any of my pregnancies!!” Or, “You should try losing 20 pounds!” Or, “You already have one kid – some people can’t have ANY kids and you should just be grateful for what you have!” I shrink back into my silence and continue dealing with this alone.

It’s hard to see my friends move on to their second, and some third, kids while I wonder if the age gap between Madison and her eventual sibling will be too big. Will they get along? Will they even know each other? Every person who makes a comment like… “It’s about time for another one!” “You’re over 30 now… your clock is ticking!!” might as well be slicing my finger, like a paper cut.

Try, Try Again

Now we move into yet another round of waiting after trying once again. I have a lot of distractions with work and a two and half year old who rules my house! This time, I am trying to focus on getting healthier as we’re trying as well. I can’t help, though, but hold my breath and hope that maybe, just maybe, it worked this time.

“I am ready, c’mon I’m ready. I’ve been patient and steadfast and steady. Bless me now as you blessed me all those years ago when you gave us our Miracle. Am I too late for a miracle?”