Growing up, I was the oldest. My brother is nearly 6 years younger than me and my sister is 13 years my junior. While I was the typical annoying older sister to my brother, I was like a second mother to my sister. I changed her diapers, bottle fed her, cleaned up puke in the early morning hours when my parents were out of town... I was more of a mother figure, and still am, than an older sibling. Ever since she was born, I've been mistaken as her mom at school events, around her friends, and so on. As a teenager, I thought it was funny. I even took some pride in being seen as her surrogate mom at times. Even though our actual mother is an amazing woman, I felt like a mini mommy to this kiddo. I was told at a very young age I had a strong motherly instinct and would make a great mom one day.

But when I was 19 years old, I was diagnosed with PCOS. For those of you who don't know what this is, it basically means that my hormones don't communicate like they should. This leads to irregular and more painful than normal periods. Lovely side effects of this also include easy weight gain, unwanted hair, and a slue of other problems. I remember receiving the phone call from my doctor while I was driving to Fort Wayne for a summer internship. I broke down in tears after they hung up, fearful that I would never become a mom. After my next doctor's visit, she assured me that I could still get pregnant, but that it just might take more effort than the average person.

Fast forward to December of 2020. At this time, I had been married for 2 years. I remember looking down at a pregnancy test, waiting for the lines to appear. After 3 agonizing minutes, I got a negative result. We weren't trying to get pregnant at the time, but the thought of pregnancy had overjoyed my husband and I. It was at this time we decided to start trying for real. We were ready to be parents. But month after month, negative pregnancy tests just filled up my trashcan. I tried to remain positive. I knew it wouldn't happen the first try, even though I knew people who had gotten pregnant that way. But as the months went on with no luck, I began to wonder if we needed some help. I decided to speak with my doctor about getting fertility assistance. She prescribed me some medication to help regulate my periods and another medication to help increase my ability to ovulate. Each month, we increased the medicine after seeing I wasn't dropping an egg. January of this year, we finally hit the right dosage amount. I started getting positive ovulation tests and I finally felt as though our chances of pregnancy were about to skyrocket.

And that's when I believe I miscarried... One morning, I took a pregnancy test and got a faint positive. I remember still being half asleep and shaking my head, thinking I must have been dreaming. I was lost for words and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I ran to the store later that afternoon and bought more tests and a little onesie. When I got home, I tested again. This time, the line was even fainter than the first. I figured it was because my hormones weren't as high as they were in the morning and that the next day it would be darker. But, the next day came and there was no line. Another day went by, and no line again. Finally, my period started and I broke down. I had had a chemical pregnancy. Conception happened, but the fertilized egg did not implant itself. I told my husband, but hid the onesie away for when pregnancy would happen.

And that onesie is still hidden away...

My trashcan continues to fill with negative tests. Losing 20lbs and counting, cutting out dairy (as I am allergic), exercising more regularly, taking fertility medication, using PreSeed, and trying to conceive in my fertile window has still not led to the outcome I've been wanting for a year and a half now. We plan to get my husband tested, but it just hurts every single month reading that negative result. I used to be horribly depressed, and now I've become more numb. Two of my closest friends have recently become pregnant, and I couldn't be more thrilled for them. But that doesn't mean I haven't cried at night wondering, "Why not me?"... I keep telling myself that it's all God's timing, that His plan is ultimately the perfect one here. Yet I continue to question when the right time will be. Will it be next month? In the next few months? Another year? And even when I do get pregnant, will the pregnancy be normal and healthy? I pray every night that God opens my womb to conceive a child. Until then, we will keep trying. I will keep that onesie hidden away til I can pair it with a positive test to share with my husband.

If you're struggling with having a child, I see you. Know that you are not alone and that I share in your pain. Whether you've been trying a few months or several years, we can share in our feelings together. We will get through this and the negative spell will end.