I use to hate mother’s day, not because I had a bad mother (she was AMAZING), but because I was not a mother. All I could ever remember was wanting children, 4 children to be exact, 2 girls and 2 boys. So after years and years of trying without any luck and unsuccessful fertility treatments, I began to wonder what was wrong with me that God would not want my offspring on this planet.
My husband would ask me every birthday and Christmas what I wanted and the only answer I had was a child. My mom passed away a year after we had started fertility treatments. I remember one of her friends telling me it was too bad I could not have given her a grandchild while she was alive. People unknowingly can say the most hurtful things. Like, maybe people can’t have children because they were not meant to be parents.
My husband and I went back and forth about adoption or IVF. Money was a concern, so I felt adoption was a better choice, but my husband talked me into one round of IVF first. When the retrieval finally came around, we had two eggs transferred. On the day of my blood test to see if we were pregnant, I asked them to leave the results on my voicemail because I knew I would not be able to handle teaching 6th grade social studies all day if the results were negative. At the end of the school day, I walked to my car and noticed roses and a note on my windshield. The note said “Congratulations Mommy”. My husband had listened to my voicemail and surprised me. It was the best birthday present ever; my birthday was the following day.
The day after Mother’s Day we had two healthy baby girls!
You would think my story was over, but it was only beginning. When my girls were two, I took out all my retirement and tried IVF again. We had two eggs transferred, but this time the procedure was unsuccessful. I was devastated. We had bought a minivan for our future large family and a new house, the house and van were constant reminders of the failed transfer. We decided that we could not financially or emotionally do IVF again. We thanked God for our amazing daughters and tried to move on.
Years went by, but God had still placed dreams of a son on my heart. We decided to look back into adoption, but eventually excepted we were lucky to be a family of four.
I went back to work and my girls entered kindergarten. I was 10 weeks pregnant when we finally realized it was not a stomach bug making me feel nauseous. Pregnancy never entered my mind due to our past struggles. We had a baby boy one day after we celebrated his sisters’ birthdays. We named him Gabriel, a named we agreed on years before starting fertility treatments. The doctor suggested having my tubes tied but it did not feel right after all the years of trying. Plus, what are the odds of having another baby when it took us 16 years to have one naturally.
Fast forward 16 months and we found out we were pregnant again. This time I knew immediately. We went to the doctor for the sonogram but they could not find the baby. We told our parents at that time, so they could pray for our baby. The prayers worked because we had another baby boy two weeks before celebrating his siblings birthdays.
Infertility has taught me patience and an understanding that everyone has inner struggles they are dealing with. Most importantly, I learned I was not in control and God has a plan for our lives. I know I am beyond blessed. I am sharing my story to give others hope and testify to God’s faithfulness to always stand beside us during our darkest days. Never give up hope!