My Journey to Motherhood

Notice: It was a long journey!


I was neglected as a child. I coped with it by promising myself I would grow up and do it differently for my children. While other kids were thinking about becoming future nurses and firemen, I dreamed about growing up to be a good mom. Along with this desire was the thought in the back of my mind that not being able to have children would be one of the most painful things that could happen to me.

At twenty, I married a high school teacher. We decided to start our family right away. I knew it could sometimes take a year to conceive, even for the most fertile couples, so I didn't worry until we approached our one year anniversary and I was still not pregnant.

During the second year, my doctor referred me to a specialist at a university hospital, over three hours away from our home. That year was the most difficult. The staff was unorganized, and the specialist only saw us for the brief consultation and to perform a test. We had so many questions.

Our insurance would not pay for any of it.

When it was time, I called the lab at the hospital to inform them we would be coming soon. We dropped everything to be there, only to find that they did not know we were coming and were not prepared for us. This happened more than once, which added stress to an already stressful situation. After a year of this, with no success, we decided to give up on fertility (mis)treatments and adopt a baby instead.

As I gathered information about adoption, I realized we did not have the funds to adopt at that time. I spent the next year working hard labor at a lodge, which was the best job I could find in our very rural area. Financially, other set-backs came along. Our car was terminally ill, so we had to get another one, and we were trying to buy property so we could one day own a home instead of throwing our money away on rent. After more than a year of working, we still did not have the money to adopt. I wanted to at least begin the waiting process, so I convinced my husband to be willing to take a small loan if we were chosen as adoptive parents.

At this point, we had been married for four years, and during all of this, friends, family neighbors, and even girls at the high school were having babies. After years of prayer, and many tears, I was able to make peace with our infertility. I decided that even if we never had children, we were going to be happy as husband and wife.

We met with the case worker and began the piles of paperwork. The case study exposed everything that was personal. It was hard not to feel defensive when every question seemed to ask, "Are you worthy of parenthood?" We did it because we knew that a child of our own would be worth any price. We paid the non-refundable one-thousand-dollar down payment and began the wait. During the next year, I spent a lot of time on the internet, reading profiles of other couples seeking to adopt. I don't know why I spent so much time doing it; I guess I wanted to see what the "competition" was, as awful as that sounds. After many months, I began to feel deeply sad for all of these couples. Many of them knew it would be impossible for them to have a biological child. Adoption (or sometimes surrogacy) was the only way for them to experience raising a child from infancy.

We had given up on having a biological child, and although we never used any kind of birth control, I wasn't keeping track of my cycles anymore. At Christmastime that year, I had strong feelings of love and concern for all the couples who were waiting to adopt. I secretly made a resolution that I would continue to try to conceive. The very next month, I became pregnant for the first time, after more than five years of trying. During those years, I had become a professional home-pregnancy-test-taker, but the day I got a positive result, I called the pregnancy test manufacturer to make sure I had taken the test correctly.

I went to the school and gave my husband his lunch with a note on the napkin that read, "I think I'm pregnant." Wanting to see his reaction, I waited until he read it before I left. All he said was, "Yeah, whatever." All my girlhood dreams of my husband jumping up and down with excitement...but I didn't care. I was PREGNANT!

It took another week before he finally believed it.

I had a great pregnancy. The nausea and heartburn were nothing compared to the years of heartache. I loved the stretch marks, the swollen feet, and especially the big round belly. Our daughter was born the day after our sixth anniversary. I had always wanted to have a girl first because I was the oldest (And a girl. No, really!).

There is a song we used to listen to that has the words, "Where have you been? I've looked for you forever and a day." One night, I heard my husband singing to our tiny daughter, "Where have you been? We've looked for you for six years and a day."

My husband and I love our brothers and sisters immensely. We prayed daily for at least one sibling for our little girl. We began trying for another baby when she was four months old. After she turned one, we found a new RE (reproductive endocrinologist), who was many times more helpful than our first specialist. Also, our insurance would pay fifty percent, up to five thousand dollars total.

I always though I could be content after I had a child, but as a mother I discovered that the desire to give my child what was best was much stronger than any desire I could have for myself--and what could be better than a little brother or sister? When our daughter was two years old, she would pray at night, "Bless my brother." It always brought tears to my eyes. They were tears of sorrow and of joy at the same time.

After more than two years of trying to conceive again, and two more failed procedures, our RE recommended laparoscopic surgery to remove what he believed to be endometriosis. I had the surgery, which revealed class 3 endometriosis (4 being the most severe). We had no idea it was that bad, for I never had any symptoms (other than infertility, which we thought was male factor only). Miraculously, we found we were expecting after our first cycle after the surgery! It was hard to believe. Thirty-six weeks later, we delivered a beautiful baby into the world: a sister for our daughter.

When she was nine months old, we decided we should begin trying for another child soon. I purchased a twenty-pack of ovulation predictor tests. Several weeks later, I noticed I hadn't felt well for a few days. Then I started to think...

On my thirty-first birthday, I went to the grocery store late at night (I told my husband I needed a birthday treat--which was true, in a way). I was looking for a pregnancy test. I couldn't find one anywhere so I went to the service counter. I saw them on the shelf behind the desk, so, through the small hole in the glass, I asked the worker if I could please purchase a pregnancy test. Minutes later, I plopped down on the couch next to my husband with a smile on my face. That test result was the best birthday present ever. It was the gift that was given freely to us, without the heartache of longing. This time I didn't have to beg! Thirty-five weeks later, a precious baby boy was placed in our arms, much to our amazement and joy.

And I didn't even need those ovulation predictor tests.

I felt like we had been cured! The surgery was just what we needed, a clean slate, so to speak. When my husband and I went to dinner for our eleventh anniversary, I asked him, "So, how many children do you want to have?" We both came from families with five children and had decided upon five before we married, only to discover we did not have the control we thought we would. Now it seemed we had a choice again.

I don't know what God has in store for our future, but I am beyond thankful that it will be overflowing with the joy that comes from raising children.

Countless times I have had to ask myself if I was dreaming because mothering these precious children has been so wonderful. I learned many things from the years of waiting. I discovered I could find happiness in myself. I watched parents around me, and took mental notes about what kind of parent I wanted to be. I feel I was blessed by my struggle, because I grew in ways I might not have otherwise.

The greatest thing I have gained from both experiences is gratitude. To me, motherhood is a happy and holy calling. I thank God every day for the chance to be a part of it.