And we tell ourselves, “It will all be Okay.”


12 months…1 year….how the time has passed.  “Is that really such a long time?” I ask myself.  I’ve come to the conclusion that it is and it isn’t. It depends all on the person as well as the journey and the weight a particular journey has had on its travelers. Below is a recap of my husband’s and my journey as we entered the world of fertility, infertility, and faced the unknown in regards to our pregnancy.

Much of what follows was written in the style of rapid thought succession as words burned to be released from my mind on many sleepless nights.  It’s not eloquent, and I assure as far as grammar and sentence structure it is far from perfect. However, my intent is not to be perfect. I’m not trying to paint a flawless picture of our lives, but explain our journey in its rawest sense as it has been an achingly beautiful adventure.

May 2017

I lay here at night, wrapped in my husband’s arms. My head is curled against his chest feeling his warmth and the steady pulse of his heartbeat.  My hand toys with the hair on his chest, and I tell myself it will all be okay. 

12 months…no luck…12 months… tic tock… echoes the clock.  I feel like we’ve come a long way since the beginning, but the journey hasn’t been easy and continues to be difficult. Looking back, each segment of time had its own story.

Months 1-4: Hope & understanding

Last year we made the decision to actively try to conceive; one of the most intimidating yet exciting decisions of our lives.  Since then it has been a whirlwind of ups and downs and at times a full out roller coaster of emotions.  I remember that first Dr’s appointment vividly.  I approached it with excitement comparable to a child on their first day of school; a bit anxious but ready to take the leap. I was ready to start our next beginning.

I remember the dress I wore that day: khaki green with a pencil skirt bottom. How confident I felt in that dress like I could take on the world.  From the waiting room to the examination room everyone was all smiles, compliments and “How do you do’s?” The conversation with the Dr. even started out as easy as she was as she stated “pleasantly surprised” to see someone so in charge of their fertility before getting pregnant.

As we talked and compared cycle notes, past and current experiences, a fuzzy gray began to enter the picture.  “You’re cycles are very irregular,” she stated.  “How long have you been off birth control?”  I commented, “About 14 months.”  “Any use of alternative protection during this time,” she inquired?  “We’ve been practicing natural family planning, but were trying to avoid until recently,” I answered.

She hmm’d for what seemed like an eternity as she examined my charts and then informed me that we should do some testing. All of which ended up coming back as inconclusive and lead to a winding maze of  rabbit holes.

At night I’d lay on my husband’s chest and tell myself it will all be okay.

Months 5-9: The struggle

So many thoughts have raced through my mind, some loud and roaring yet others softer and more distant like the constant echo of a faraway train that never arrives. All of them nagging and gnawing just the same.

“Will I be a good parent?” “Will I be good enough?” “Am I ready?” “Is he ready?” “How are people ever ready?” “What if there’s something wrong?” “What if they can’t fix it?” “What if?” “What if?” “WHAT IF?”

Yet I lay here on my husband’s chest and tell myself it will all be okay.

I’ve tried exercising more.  I’ve tried exercising less.  I’ve adapted an already healthy diet to stringently higher levels.  I’ve tried limiting caffeine. I’ve tried no caffeine.  I’ve tried eliminating alcohol completely and on the flip side I’ve tried drinking a glass to relax.  I’ve injected myself religiously with pre-seed, and pretended I was spider man with my legs in the air… (Insert theme song here).   And because I’m me, I’ve tried to stay comical.

At the end of the day I want to laugh not to cry, but to be honest I end up crying half the time anyways.

Yet I lay here on my husband’s chest and tell myself it will all be okay.

Months 10-11: Acceptance

Endometriosis and vulvodynia….????? Can we add insult to injury that I couldn’t have just one?

After visiting multiple doctors repeatedly I finally have some answers. My insides feel like they are ripping apart, and my pelvic and abdomen are a center stage for a boxing match.  If you’re reading this, you’ve pulled up a front seat (Aren’t’ you lucky?). Add the overbearing onset nausea that occurs after eating anything and it’s a damned glorified winner of a disease to have.

At times my emotional stability is less than paper thin and on those days I find myself coming unhinged.  Unhinged…there’s a tragically depressing beauty in that word, and it fits perfectly.

Yet I lay with my husband’s arms around me as he tells me it will be okay. 

Within the sadness, I find beauty in my husband.  He is the strongest supporter and a constant pillar in my life. These crippling blows are not only dealt to me, but to him as he watches me struggle every day.  He gently wipes away tears, mine, his, and on somedays, ours.

Together, we tell ourselves it will all be okay.

Months 12-13: Exhaustion

Time continues to pass, like anything else, and we move forwards with our lives.  It’s been a busy few months preparing for a dear friends upcoming wedding.  Between the wedding events I’ve found myself tired and exhausted. There is little time for anything else but to move onward.

But every night without fail I lay on my husband’s chest and tell myself it will all be okay.

July 24th 2017: +++

Today started out like any other Monday after a wedding filled weekend. In one word, exhausted.  And like any other month, I’m late, or am I on time?  Who knows when your cycles span 28-42+ day?  As I pad to the bathroom still sleepy and groggy I decide to take a pregnancy test.  As I’ve taken so many countless others I expect the outcome to be no different. I stumbled my way back to bed, set the timer and snuggle back into the warmth my husband within the sheets.

3 minutes tick by and I’m brought back to awareness by the buzzing of my alarm.  As I reach over to turn off the alarm my phone illuminates the test.  In the soft glow I blink, look again and blink rapidly. I come to the realization that it is not my exhaustion playing tricks but that there is something there that wasn’t there before. Two pink lines….oh my god…..Two pink lines….

“Cal! Cal! CAL!!!!!!! Two pink lines! OMG! Two pink lines….there are two?!  Right????  I’m not making this up?????” I all about shriek to my husband jolting him from his slumber.

He looks and immediately tears up confirming that while I am one of the loudest women in the world on this particular morning, I am indeed not crazy.

We’re in shock, and filled with happiness. Slowly we turn to each other and simultaneously say, “Well, what now?”

As always eat healthy, stay fit,