Four Years ago I had My Miracle Baby, Part 1

I don't know how many of our friends and even blog readers know my story--of infertility, heartache, waiting, longing, and then a huge miracle.

This Sunday, our miracle baby will be four years old. How did time go so fast? Every day I look at her and marvel at the miracle she is. She is here. She is mine. She's apart of our family. I am so grateful for her!

Without too much of an intro, let's get into it. Here is the story of how four years ago I had my miracle baby, part 1.

After a Year of Marriage, I Wanted a Baby

That's really where it starts. Scott and I were married in 2012. We had a crazy first year--crazy life really. But in our first year of marriage we moved from Utah to California to Washington State to another house in Washington State. It was a year full of lots of changes, new discoveries, and happiness.

We decided we didn't want to think about growing our family until we had been married a year. Of course, we still thought about it. We even discussed it a lot. But we didn't do anything about it until we were at or close to the year mark.

When the year hit, we decided we wouldn't "try try." We would just get off birth control and see what happened. I was sure I would have a baby right away, no problem. But... nothing happened.

After a few months, I started tracking my cycles and basal body temperature. Everything seemed fine, but no pregnancy.

It went on like this for months.

In the meantime, we moved back to Utah and started new jobs and a new routine. We kept trying, really trying, and still nothing.

So I Went to See a Fertility Specialist

This is also where I will interject and let you know that I was slightly concerned about endometriosis. My mom discovered she had a bad case of it after ending up in the emergency room a couple times due to extreme pain. When the doctors finally decided to give her a hysterectomy, they commented that she had one of the worst cases they had ever seen, with the growth attached to her colon.

I had also had pains that could possibly be endometriosis since I was about 19. I had gone to see an OB, but he seemed unconcerned and asked me to monitor and journal symptoms. I didn't do much about it because I went on a church proselyting mission to South Korea where I didn't have any symptoms for a year and a half. It was only when I came back to the U.S. and started again on our heavy diet here that the symptoms came back.

So here I was at age 30 or 31--I don't remember--seeing an OBGYN fertility specialist, hoping he could give me some answers.

We started on blood work. That was a whole thing. But initially the results showed my egg count and hormones were fine. Knowing my family history of endometriosis, the doctor then suggested an endoscopy--a minor surgery where they would send cameras in through incisions in my abdomen to see if I in fact did have endometriosis.

And, the findings: I did have endometriosis. But not a horrible case--not at all like my mom's anyway.

The next steps: intrauterine insemination (IUI). The doctor explained that if I was younger, in my twenties, he would recommend I go on birth control for a year to get rid of the symptoms and then try to have a baby. But because I as in my thirties, he thought it best to go this route.

I Did Three Rounds of IUI

Each time, the results were NOT PREGNANT.

Even now as I write this, years later, I feel the pain. I had so much hope. This would work, right? It was sure to work. It was so direct.

But no, not pregnant.

After three unsuccessful rounds of IUI, the OBGYN suggested the next step be In vitro. Do you know how expensive that is? And it isn't even guaranteed. Nothing is, really.

We looked at the cost and our options and decided not to do anything yet. Scott was getting ready to go to Mississippi for six months for military training. We would figure things out after.

During that time, I tried to focus on work and exercise and friends and family. But the yearning to have a baby was ever present. I thought about In vitro. I thought about adoption. I weighed the options. And I wondered. And I waited.

When Scott returned home, we still waited. We felt we were not financially ready to try other options yet. And we hoped that some miracle would happen and I would get pregnant anyway.

Time went by.

And We Started the Adoption Process

Initially we came to this decision because I didn't feel like In Vitro would work. Through my research I discovered a major part of not being able to get pregnant with endometriosis is getting the fertilized egg to stick to the uterine wall. So why would In vitro be any different? I didn't want to risk disappointment and have always felt a pull toward adoption, so this felt it the right direction.

This was going to be it. We were going to have a baby. Or maybe a toddler. We were open to adopting one or two kids up to age six.

We found an agency and started on all the paperwork and training--background checks, fingerprinting, consents, videos, etc. And we even started the home study. We were on our way and hoped that we would have a baby or child in our arms within a year.

But then, anxiety hit. My work was stressful and demanding. Now years later, looking back, I can't believe I endured as much as I did, that I let it get that bad. Everyday was filled with anxiety, fires to put out, meetings after meetings, quality control, pleasing upper management by doing the impossible, giving bad news, making promises that should not have been promised, misusing the term priority (it means one or first, people!), staying late, calls after hours, and so much, too much, more. Things got so bad, Scott told me to quit my job.

That's when I really realized how bad it was. All the anxiety I had been feeling seeped out of every part of my body. My body shook for two or more weeks after I turned in my resignation. I cried a lot. I had to remind my heart to calm down over and over. I was not in a good place.

On top of that, Scott had started a business that was not doing so well. AND he was getting deployed with the military in a few months.

Changes had to be made.

So we did what we always do. We adapted. We made things work. We sold our house, the house I loved so much. We ended Scott's business. We moved me in with my parents while Scott was deployed. And we stopped the adoption process.

That last one was the hardest because if we stopped now, when would we start again? How much longer would I have to wait for my baby?

By this time we had been married for six years and had been trying to have a baby for five.

Time Passed, as It Always Does

Scott was gone with the military for seven months. When he returned, he was home for a month and then left to Afghanistan as a civilian contractor for a year.

He had received a job offer while deployed. The job would pay very well. And he promised he would only be gone a year. Hopefully this job would lead to more opportunity when he returned.

I visited him once in Dubai. We met up for a few days and had a great time. And he came home in February 2020 and we took a week-long cruise. He left again and I was comforted knowing he only had a few months to his year mark, when he would be back home with me.

But the year came and went. The global pandemic hit and he was stuck overseas.

So we waited and waited and waited. And dreamed. And planned.

We planned for our new home. And when he got home, we moved.

We Moved all the Way to Missouri for Our Miracle Baby

Our life there was a whole story. I've written about it. Read about it. It might give you more context. But in short, for this post, the move was full of hope. But we met hardships.

During all of this, I kept wondering about our family. When would we grow our family? When would God bless us with a child?

I prayed. I pleaded with God. We kept trying. I kept taking pregnancy tests, knowing, but still hoping, and hating every heartache that came with a negative result.

One day, I started feeling different. "It can't be anything," I denied my thoughts. "I can't get my hopes up," but my hopes were always up.

I missed my period. I wondered. Could it be? Even with the thought, the heartache of a possible negative pregnancy test hovered in the air. Did I want to take a test and be disappointed? Was I just late this month?

Finally, one morning, I willed myself to take the test. I peed and waited five minutes, my heart beating, hoping, but not wanting to feel that familiar pain of disappointment.

When the time was up, I looked.... And I couldn't believe my eyes. Was it real? Was this true? I went into Scott who was still in bed. I paused in the doorway and then slowly made my way to the bed. I showed him the test. "I'm pregnant," I declared through tears.

"What?" he exclaimed as tears welled in his eyes.

I don't remember how long we stayed in bed that morning. Scott held me. We wept. We screamed with excitement. Finally, finally, our hopes and dreams and prayers had been answered. Finally, we were having our miracle baby.

Stay tuned for part 2, coming next week.