Out of dozens of pregnancy tests, there was never a plus sign.
Out of all of the vitamins and supplements and acupuncture sessions to increase our chances of getting pregnant…none of it ever worked.
It was heartbreaking.
It took us an entire year to grieve the loss of having biological children.
We cried. We were angry. We were envious of the perfect lives everyone else seemed to live.
And then little by little, seed by seed, we became hopeful.
You see, there are many ways to build a family.
Some people choose to pursue embryo donation or IVF; others use donor sperm or donor eggs. Some people choose to foster parent or accept a life without children.
And us? We felt a tug at our hearts to adopt. So that’s what we did.
The road to get there wasn’t always easy. But my goodness, it was worth it.
I’m grateful for it all. Yes, even the disappointments and heartaches, for they’ve provided me with a level of empathy and understanding only those who have walked can understand.
I’m grateful for what infertility taught me; I’m grateful the road to motherhood wasn’t easy because I appreciate it so much more.
Most importantly, I’m grateful for where it eventually led us: to three little girls — all brought to our family differently — who we get to call our own.
And now we ask that same question we asked ourselves years ago, except with different meaning: What’d we do to deserve this? To deserve the honor and privilege of raising these three beautiful girls?
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This article originally appeared at ShelleySkuster.com.
