“It was 2010.
Two years after we happily walked down the aisle of a Catholic church and exchanged our wedding vows, we found ourselves in an unfamiliar place.
It was a place I never pictured we’d need to be.
I sat nervously twiddling my thumbs with my pants pulled down and a thin paper draped over my lap.
This is it, I thought. This is the beginning of our family…
It was the beginning of our first round of infertility treatments with a reproductive endocrinologist, and we were making plans based on what things looked like ‘down there’ and ‘in there.’
The appointment ended 20-minutes later.
And even though we left with a plan to get pregnant, I cried as my husband and I walked out of that clinic.
The reality that we were now one of those couples — you know, the 1 in 8 who experience infertility — was almost too much of a burden to bear.
I felt like we had done everything right. We had good jobs. A beautiful home. We were paying off our student loans, and we were financially secure. We started asking ourselves, ‘What did we do to deserve this?’
My sadness turned into frustration as we drove to the pharmacy to pick up my injections. Lots of injections. Hundreds of dollars worth of injections. And we asked ourselves again, ‘What did we do to deserve this?’
We justified the hefty price tag, though, with a renewed sense of hope from one of the top specialists in town. But like most couples with an infertility diagnosis, we had no idea what was around the corner.
Month after month, we gambled with our emotions, our finances and my body.
But the infertility treatments never worked. Our specialist — as much as she tried to convince us otherwise — filled our hearts with empty hope. Our bodies failed us time and time again.
Out of dozens of pregnancy tests, there was never a plus sign.
Out of all of the vitamins and supplements and acupuncture sessions to increase our chances of getting pregnant…none of it ever worked.
It was heartbreaking.
It took us an entire year to grieve the loss of having biological children.
We cried. We were angry. We were envious of the perfect lives everyone else seemed to live.
And then little by little we became hopeful.
You see, there are many ways to build a family.
Some people choose to pursue embryo donation or IVF; others use donor sperm or donor eggs. Some people choose to foster parent or accept a life without children.
And us? We felt a tug at our hearts to adopt. So that’s what we did.
The road to get there wasn’t always easy. But my goodness, it was worth it.
And now, four [fast] years later, I look back on our family’s journey through infertility, two adoptions and two pregnancies and biological children later, and I’m incredibly grateful.
I’m grateful for it all. Yes, even the disappointments and heartaches, for they’ve provided me with a level of empathy and understanding only those who have walked can understand.
Most importantly, though, I’m grateful for where it eventually led us: to three little girls and a sweet, new son who we get to call our own.
And now, amidst the chaos of raising four young children, we find ourselves asking that same question we asked years ago, except in an entirely different context: What did we do to deserve this — to deserve the honor and privilege of raising these four beautiful children?”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Shelley Skuster. The post originally appeared here. Photo credit: Photography by Kimberly Murphy. Submit your story here.
SHARE this story on Facebook or Twitter to celebrate the journey of becoming a parent.