Today marks the end of National Infertility Week … and this year it hit hard. I don’t share my journey of never having children often, but after a lot of tears this week it seemed appropriate.
Thad and I dreamt of having a big family and had so many plans … we started trying pretty quickly and had some conversations with my OB/Gyn that led to numerous surgeries during our first few years of marriage. It was the late 90s so after all the cleanup, I was given a few medications and we were told to have fun. This was us in May of 1999 at Disney – dreaming of the times when we would bring our children too!
In the spring of 2000 after nothing had happened for over a year, I was sent to a specialist for further testing. The office called told me to bring Thad with to hear the results.
I don’t think I will ever forget the doctor showing how truly messed up my female parts were. How come no one had explained this to us after any of the 11 procedures? To find out that our specialist thought I could carry a baby for 3-4 months max and then I’d either miscarry or we’d both likely die when my uterus ruptured. I was so very grateful for Thad’s leadership in the moment – he said risking me was not an option. We thought that was it.
Only the doctor had more news, I had several large tumors and a full hysterectomy was needed as quickly as possible – within a month, all of my baby making parts were gone. The pathology on the tumors was not good, though everything was completely contained which was the silver lining of a very dark season.
Within 3 months, I had my first stroke (though we didn’t realize it at the time) and the ebbs and flows neurological wonkiness became part of living life. We looked into adoption and we’re told I needed to have clean medical for 5 years and my body simply wasn’t capable of that either.
All these years later, the aches can still creep in – seeing the baby clothes in the store; watching my friends start their families; going to the baby showers and gender reveals … holding the precious newborns … to now seeing friends with their grandkids. Parenthood wasn’t meant to be part of our story.
And God was so much bigger and carried me through all of it storing up my tears in a bottle, teaching me to love well – so through the years, I‘ve been blessed to become momma bear to many. That is where I get to share the momma love well beyond what I could have ever done through the physical act of giving birth. And I’m grateful for all the women who have invited me in – y’all are truly the best “girls” a momma bear could have ever wished for.
