Maybe God Got It Right This Time - my journey of infertility

If you had known me from the years of 2017-2023 you would know how desperately I did not want kids. I never had much of a desire to be a mom, if anything it was just something I figured I'd have to do. Something in a woman's DNA and life destiny, I guess. I forced myself to create a running list of baby names, as all the girls around me did. It was not something that was ever fully present on my mind, but I practiced my mothering abilities by being a nanny and weekend babysitter. Then one day it changed. I sat in the hospital waiting room as someone very close to me was experiencing a miscarriage. I had heard of the pains of miscarriage, seen how other women would talk of it, and I learned all the do's and don't's to say to someone who has miscarried. But I never saw it. I never walked through it... until that moment. The rush and joy of the announcement, days and weeks spent daydreaming of the little cherub to be, giddy over name ideas and what kind of person I would be to this little baby. Then, you're in the hospital. Beeping of the machines, cold white bright lights beaming down on you, and somber and stoic looks from nurses waiting for the doctor to be the bearer of bad news. Just the day before you were dreaming of this little thing to be and then it's all gone. Your heart swelled up a million sizes only to be forcefully ripped right out of your chest.

I went to church the next day after I had spent the night before begging God to change the fate. Let this baby somehow exist. Yet, for the unexplainable reason, the outcome was the outcome. I vowed that was a pain I never wanted to experience personally. I was already a fragile being and I felt that was the one thing I would never be able to come back from. So, during altar call on that Sunday, as others made their way to the front I forced myself to the back. I looked to the ceiling and between gritted teeth, I demanded God never give me a child of my own, for fear of losing such a beautiful thing.

And thus began my child-free by choice journey. Many would tell me one day I would change my mind. Friends would say it would be such a shame because they could tell what a great mother I would be. I vividly remember conversations of how I would be a great girl mom. There was support from some, but the main phrase I was met with was, "it'll change once you find the man you'll marry."

Then I met him. And he is wonderful beyond all my wildest dreams. Our early conversations were raw and open about how I wasn't sure if I would ever want children and I was met with "I love you for you. It is your body and I will never tell you what you put it through." A dream of a man. Plus, we both had wild career ambitions that would take time. So, we agreed if we were to, five to seven years down the road. At least.

A few years into our marriage and not one single pregnancy scare. I just thought we were lucky. Still vowing up and down, no kids for me.

Maybe it was the Bakersfield air that gets to you or maybe because I saw everyone around me stepping into that new season or maybe I was just bored... but something did change one day. In the most twisted fate, I found myself craving motherhood. I cried on my therapists couch about it then walked down to the lobby to see feathers, a sign of fertility. I got in my car and about four or five feathers exploded over me. What did this all mean?? Maybe motherhood was calling me and maybe I was ready to answer!

But not in this economy. That's what my husband and I agreed on. My first act of motherhood was knowing this time was not the right time. My husband wrote me a beautiful Mother's Day card that year. For the mom I was to our fur babies, to the future mom I would be, and to the current mom I am, already thinking of my child's needs by knowing in this moment, I could not meet them and choosing to wait for them was my biggest act of love.

In a plot twist I never saw coming, my fear of miscarriages had been worked through and my growing desire to start a family was eating away at my very bones. And this all happened in the most perfect timing. Just months before my diagnosis.

Stage 3 endometriosis.

Whiplash.

For years I was confident in my desire for a child-free life and then in just a moment's time all I wanted was what I said I never wanted. Then, what I now wanted I couldn't have. Or, I don't fully know if I could have it.

The technicalities of my infertility aren't set in stone but long story short- if I want it, it's going to be a fight. Specialists, medications, surgeries and then, maybe, just maybe, a natural pregnancy. If not, IVF. Which, I am a big fan of IVF considering that is how my husband exists. Though, I am unsure if that is a journey I could take with my fragile heart. And in truth, there is the chance my body just would not be able to hold a pregnancy even with medical interference.

But the girl who was once afraid of a miscarriage and never wanted to have children of her own now would have to fight tooth and nail, spend a lot of money, and maybe a child could be in our future. All with the looming fear of the health of my kidneys and the rest of my body, as that is what my endometriosis is currently aggressively attacking. How could I even think of trying for a child when I need to find a way to keep my vital organs safe?

The irony? I had told everyone over the years I thought I was infertile. That maybe that is how God would uphold His promise to not give me children. And guess what? He did.

When the dust settled and the news sank in, I had to laugh. Maybe God finally got it right this time. This curse of infertility, He finally gave it to someone who didn't want kids.

Until she changed her mind.

When I share the news of this journey I am on with my reproductive health and the risks of what it could mean for a future family, I am met with, very well intentioned, but painful comments. "God will give you a child." "I am praying He does a miracle!"

But I don't want Him to. What about the women who so deeply crave being a mom? What about the women pouring their life savings into a potential positive pregnancy test through IVF? What about the women who dreamed of this their whole life and for some reason they have had to let it be deeply put to rest? What about them? I want to be last in line for the miracle of birth. I don't deserve it. God held up His end of the deal that I forced Him into in the back of that church many years ago.

The truth is, for many women, hearing "I believe God will give you a child," is a stab to the heart that festers over time. The longer the miracle doesn't come to fruition, the more painful those words become.

So, where am I at currently? Well, I am happy. Fulfilled. Chasing my dreams with the love of my life standing right next to me. I have far too many fur babies. Friends I love deeply. Family I would die for. Oh, and I am the coolest (and hottest) auntie. All of that is enough for me.

Will I ever have a child of my own DNA call me, 'mom'? I don't know. There are a lot of doctors appointments I would have to get through before I can even be near knowing that answer. Do I even want that still? I actually don't know. I live in Sacramento now with some fresher air so I am thinking a little bit clearer now. I am also less bored. It is a complicated array of feelings. Wanting to experience that phase of life with the man I love so deeply. Wanting to make my husband's moms grandmas. Wanting to pass on my incredible looks and great sense of humor to the next generation. Ya know, priorities.

For someone who has just written a lot, I actually don't know how to fully put these feelings into words. I just know that I don't want offers of prayers for a miracle child. Pray for my health. But if you pray for me to have a child and God showed up with my admission ticket to motherhood, I'd ask Him to send me to the back of the line. If you offer prayer for my fertility, I'd ask you to say someone else's name. Let the miracle go to someone who went to the front of the church begging God give rather than letting the miracle go to the girl who went to the back of the church demanding God take away. As far as I am concerned, I got exactly what I wanted. Minus the ten plus years of debilitating pain, the scarring on my bladder, uterus, and kidneys. I also would love if my uterus weren't basically scarred down to the side wall of my stomach. Oh and the years of being ignored by doctors and all the hormone treatments and flare ups.. yeah I didn't know all of that was included in my deal in the back of the church. But ya know, should've read the fine print I guess.

Again, you don't have to offer up prayers for a miracle child. In fact, now would be horrible timing for that to happen. So, please don't. Unless you have a large amount of money you would like to give me and my husband to provide for said miracle child. Also, will you be the one to sacrifice sleep? Because my husband and I both very much value our sleep right now.

Infertility is a tough subject. My heart aches for all the women on this path. Not enough is said about it, except for sometimes the unsolicited comments from those who I do know mean well. Next time a woman is brave enough to share her part of her journey, maybe ask her what she even wants. Instead of offering up advice, prayers, or words of encouragement. When I first got the news, all I needed was space to cry. To be angry. To play the saddest Taylor Swift songs that alluded to pregnancy on repeat. Right now, all I need is solidarity that my life is enough without children. That I am enough without children. Because I am. And so is every woman. Whether she has children or not. We are all enough whether we reproduce or not. Children can be a beautiful, magical blessing but please, do not let it over shine the beautiful, magical blessing that is already right in front of you. The woman before you. The women around you. We will always be enough as we are. Whether our organs act as they must or not. Whether we even want them to act as they must or not.

Long story short, when it comes to infertility...

maybe God got it right this time giving it to me.