Four years ago today, at 3:06 am, we met your for the very first time.
Maybe met is the wrong word. Because we knew you well before then.
For so long before that day, we knew you were ours. You filled our dreams with hope for a family; one that had to include you- your spirit, your heart, your love of life and happiness and us.
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My journey with infertility began in January of 2014.
Phil and I got married in October of 2013; but knowing my history with PCOS, I decided to stop taking the BCP the summer before we tied the knot. I had known for most of my adult life that it would take some time and help to start a family, so I figured I would roll the dice and see what happened.
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Sayonara, 2017; and welcome, 2018.
This past year was a full one. It was full of up and downs; lessons learned; successes and setbacks.
The wild majority of our year was filled with so much joy. Our girl turned two. My mother finally moved back east. We celebrated five years together and four happy years of marriage. I turned 33, feeling strong and happy as ever. We vacationed and laughed and loved and drank delicious wine. Lots of it.
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Today my husband and I celebrate four years of marriage together.
Four years filled with laughter and tears; trying and triumphs; challenges and successes.
In those four years we made our girl. I turned thirty. We said goodbye to our first fur baby. We welcomed a crazy black lab to the family. We've become better friends. And better versions of ourselves.
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Throughout my fertility journey I enjoyed a rollercoaster of feelings and emotions, many of which were new to me entirely. And as a result, it momentarily changed me- the very essence of who I was at times; inevitably shifting the relationships I had with those around me. Particularly when it came to my more fertile counterparts.
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