My fertility struggle, while nowhere near comparable to the stories of women who have gone to hell and back, fighting to have their own children, was a very tough time for us. After a second surgery, we were told to schedule IVF treatments. I'm a master procrastinator, and I knew I'd never be truly ready to make the call. I battled my own thoughts daily: Would I be a good mother? Would I be able to make my children happy? Can I maintain my identity and help a child learn to have its own? When I finally realized that if I wanted to even try to be a mother, my time was running out. I didn't know how long my (very, very mean) reproductive system would do what it was supposed to do. I decided it was time to make the appointment, and I truly believe that when I made that decision, my body relaxed and allowed us to get pregnant naturally. What an incredible blessing that was!
I haven't decided yet if I'm a phenomenal mom, but I do love my sweet girl more than I could ever imagine loving anything. I feel overwhelmed every day, I worry every day, and I love her every day. It's maddening.
I will always, always, always remember how terrifying those years of treatment were and how lonely I could sometimes feel, but what I take away from all of that is how amazing my family and friends are - how they lifted me up when I couldn't find a way, got down in a hole with me when I wanted to sit in the dark, celebrated with me when I had great news to share, and showered my girl with love when she finally made her way here. She is, no doubt, the luckiest little creature in the world, not because she has me, but because she has them.
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