“For ten years, we rode the infertility train. It was mostly no.

No, we can’t help you.
No, you can’t get pregnant.
No, you were born this way.
No, we can’t do IVF.
No, get yourself a surrogate.
No.
No.
No.

The whole time, all I wanted was to get pregnant. Loss was never part of the equation. You can’t have a loss without a pregnancy.

The pain of those 10 years is not something I can put into words.
It became a part of us.
We didn’t have kids.
But we continued living. And thriving.
And then we got our miracles.
Someone finally said yes and after our first IVF cycle, we were pregnant with twins.

Loss never entered my mind.

And then a few months before my twins turned 3, I got pregnant.
On my own.
No intervention.
It was a miracle.
And then it was gone.
They called it a “missed abortion.”
What a horrible term.

And in that moment I knew..
I will take another 10 years of infertility as long as I don’t have to go through a miscarriage again.

The first 10 years there was no hope.
With no hope, comes no expectations.
With no expectations, comes no disappointment.
With no disappointment, comes no heartbreak.
Only dreams.

Getting pregnant made me hopeful.
And with that hope, I expected to hold my baby in my arms.
I didn’t expect to see the disappointing look on the sonographer’s face.
But when the bleeding started my heart broke.

My dreams were shattered.
The first one was the most painful. My baby would have been turning one right about now.
The next one I don’t even know the due date.
I didn’t bother calculating it.
Why get my hope up only to be heartbroken again.
So now I’m terrified to get pregnant.
But I’m more terrified not to.