How To Make A Baby

Sex? Turns out, not so much

Opening your heart to love someone can be one of the scariest things in this life. Opening your heart to love someone who doesn’t, and might not ever, exist, changes you forever. When we opened our hearts to our future children, we had no idea what we were in for, or what would be asked of us. For starters, we thought sex was how you made a baby. Turns out, not so much. Here’s how we made a baby:

Try “the old fashioned way” for a year. Time everything perfectly. Get nothing. Cry randomly while washing the dishes, doing laundry, watering the grass, doing yoga, that of all the things you can do, the one thing you want to do more than anything isn’t happening.

Get asked by a friend every month, when you are menstruating, if you are pregnant. Point out to her that she’s very interested in your sex life. Have her be confused about the connection between asking about pregnancy and asking about sex.

Go to an OB to get a referral to a specialist. Have her tell you to just go on vacation and you’ll get pregnant. Decide if you do get pregnant, she won’t be your OB.

Go to the RE (reproductive endocrinologist, fertility specialist). Have your tubes checked to make sure they’re clear. Have a post-coital test and discover you are the best sperm-killing machine your doctor has ever seen. Master the art of peeing in a cup. Do five rounds of Clomid, three with IUI (intrauterine insemination), the last one with a trigger shot. Have a nurse practitioner try to schedule you for an IUI you weren’t planning on (the doctor had told you the IUI would be the following cycle) and go home and tell your husband it’s rude to surprise someone with an insemination.

Get mad at said nurse practitioner when she tells you she’s been working with infertility patients for ten years and it’s nothing to cry about. Somehow she doesn’t understand you haven’t been doing this infertility thing for ten years and you’re going to cry if you darn well please. Get a sticky note put on your file that says you only deal with the doctor.

Write an anonymous post about infertility for APW about all you’ve learned, the growth you’ve made, the relationships that have been strengthened. Talk about how your biggest fear is doing all of this, getting pregnant, and then miscarrying.

Alternate between crying at your situation and being at peace with it. Start making way too many inappropriate jokes about reproduction with your husband, the first jokes of many.

Have laparoscopic surgery and discover the amount of pain you’ve experienced for over a decade is in fact not normal and is caused by extensive endometriosis. Have the endometriosis removed and have your first pain free period in over a decade. Get mad at the medical community that not a single doctor asked the two or three questions it would’ve taken to find this problem years ago, questions you didn’t know enough to ask in the first place, but then you’re not the one who went to medical school.

Have the doctor tell you if you aren’t pregnant within a year you’ll be back having surgery for endometriosis again. Decide IVF is your best choice.

Give yourself shots in your own belly for three weeks (multiple times a day). Egg retrieval #1. Embryo transfer #1. Look up on YouTube with your husband how to give shots in your butt because there is no way you’re going to twist around to calmly stick that large needle in your own backside. Pregnancy!!

Learn what a sub-chorionic hematoma is. Get your doctoral advisor to cover the data collection you have to do that day for your dissertation research. Miscarriage #1.

Write a second anonymous post about infertility for APW when you realize you can get through your biggest fear because you are not alone, you have a strong family. Together you and your husband can do anything.

Embryo transfer #2. Have your doctor tell you that you are “sort of pregnant” when the blood test comes back low and not promising. Miscarriage #2.

Embryo transfer #3. Nothing.

Sing along with, and bawl to, Jason Mraz’s “I Won’t Give Up” every time it comes on the radio. Because you aren’t going to give up on your children, they are worth it. Because you are tough enough. Because this infertility thing is teaching you what you’ve got, what you’re not, and who you are.

More shots in your own belly for three weeks, more each day this time. Egg retrieval #2. Get a friend to cover the data collection you have to do that day for your dissertation research. Embryo transfer #4, on Mother’s Day. More shots in the backside. Nothing.

Wait a month while the two-inch cyst on your ovary goes away.

Embryo transfer #5. Nothing.

And it’s been a year since surgery and you still aren’t pregnant, so back to the operating room. Remember to take pictures this time around. Totally rock the hospital gown. Laugh at the hospital, a lot. Make fun comments while under anesthesia, same ones as last time even. More endometriosis.

More shots in your own belly. Do one in a high school parking lot after a football game and one during the middle of church because that’s when they need to be timed. Egg retrieval #3. Embryo transfer #6. More shots in the backside. Pull off the interstate at a rest stop and crawl into the backseat so you can get that one timed when it needs to be. Laugh about how you’ll be able to tell this kid that you had to do “it” at church and in the backseat of the car to get them here. Pregnancy!!

More bleeding scares with another sub-chorionic hematoma. Nausea. Aching. Dizziness. Congestion. Constipation. Never get used to the taste of prune juice, make a disgusted face every time you drink it (think YouTube clips of babies eating lemons), but don’t dare go a day without it. Bloating. Itching (because you are one of those women who reacts to your own HCG). Sciatic nerve pain any time you spend any amount of time sitting on the floor (including the floor of the tub for a bubble bath!). Crawl to the bathroom at 2am one night because the sciatic nerve pain is so bad you can’t put weight on either leg. Wonder if you should laugh or cry about it. Do physical therapy for half the pregnancy for extensive pelvic separation that makes it feel like you have a pulled groin for six months straight. Wake up to excruciating Charlie horses.

Get mad at legislation that would make your children impossible and illegal in certain states. Get mad that legislation that requires infertility coverage in certain states still isn’t enough to make your children possible. Get frustrated with the insane insurance paperwork required for what little is covered and how it never seems to be filed right the first time.

Joke about the kids you still have in the freezer. Listen to the baby’s heartbeat with the Doppler you got for Christmas to keep you from panicking. Decide first baby movements do not feel like butterflies or popcorn but more like bumps and thumps. Push through your dissertation defense early because you have a nursery to decorate. Hope the baby doesn’t kick too much during said defense because it’s rather funny and quite distracting. Crave guacamole, French fries, bread and butter, cookies, and chocolate, but not all at the same time. Eat a LOT of Otter Pops. Find it odd that toothpaste smells disgustingly like pickles. Spend months trying to figure out which body part is making that weird lump in your midsection. Participate in the Walk of Hope and enjoy a morning with people who “get it” about infertility. Totally rock the doctoral gown with your bump at graduation.

Get labor advice from random acquaintances and the homeless woman on the corner. Have the older employee at the fabric store ask you, “Are you getting big?” and try to touch your belly. Try explaining to your friend’s two-year-old that he can’t see your baby and that you didn’t eat it. Go to a concert and have one of the amphitheater workers tell you, “That’s why you look so beautiful, you’re expecting!” Decide that is the perfect thing to say to a pregnant lady (a lot better than what the lady at the fabric store said, that’s for sure!). Spend the day denying you are in labor because you have plans that night gosh darn it!

Have the cutest baby in the world!

Be changed forever.

Write a third post about infertility for APW (this one), because now you know how this chapter ends.

And that, kids, is the extended “birds and bees” talk they don’t give you during sex-ed in school.

Stay tuned for a hopeful follow-up with “How to Make a Sibling.”

Photos from Lisa’s personal collection

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  • Jennifer

    CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!! All caps seemed appropriate in this case :)

  • And I still bawl to that song. Just sang it to her right now while she smiled and blew spit bubbles and I could barely get through it.

  • Jessica B

    I’m so happy for you! Cue desk crying–but happy tears this time!

  • Congratulations, again. I feel your pain and your immense joy, as someone who went through a somewhat similar path. I am now 23 weeks pregnant after IVF, and can’t wait to meet our little one.
    So, so happy for you. Also, know that your previous posts helped me in dealing with all of it, knowing we are not alone in those difficult times, is like balm, so thanks for that.

    • Thank you. I wrote those to pay it forward for those who spoke out before and helped me.

      Good luck with your little miracle. :)

  • Rachel

    Congrats!!! That’s such great news!

    One thing that really jumped out at me from this post was “Get mad at the medical community that not a single doctor asked the two or three questions it would’ve taken to find this problem years ago, questions you didn’t know enough to ask in the first place, but then you’re not the one who went to medical school.” Reading that, I felt so angry on your behalf, and angry that you aren’t the only one who has experienced this. I saw a comment online the other day that pointed out that maybe women spend more on health care than men do because we have to go to the doctor three times just to get someone to believe that we’re actually having a problem. It was like a slap in the face and made me think about how many repeat visits I’ve had to make to the doctor (visits that cost a LOT of money) just to get a problem solved. I don’t know what the solution is, but I’m just frustrated that when dealing with a shitty health situation, it seems like we have to keep knocking on doors and telling our stories over and over and over again to get the proper treatment.

    • AnonForThis

      YES. So I have endometriosis, too. The doctor found it while removing an extremely large cyst growing inside my ovary. He decided not to remove the endometriosis because, I shit you not, when he asked if I was in any pain, I said no. Of course, when he asked, I was only worried about my cyst, which didn’t hurt. (Hell, I didn’t know it was there, before a PA found it during my annual exam.) He did NOT ask if my periods were painful. Key questions here, guys!

      (I try not to be too mad because he explained that the scar tissue that can form when endometriosis is removed can be worse than just leaving it alone. But seriously.)

  • anon

    What were the backside shots? We might be looking at fertility treatment, but so far all the info on the shots are subcutaneous in the belly or legs?

    • The backside was progesterone in oil. It has to go in a muscle, and the backside is the easiest one to use. They said we could use my thigh but I’d feel it more. You can find youtube videos of women giving them to themselves. I’m so not that good at it.

      Good luck. And please contact me if you have any questions or want to vent about the whole situation.

      • MDBethann

        Giggles, thanks so much for this post. I just confirmed our order this morning for meds for our first round of IUI. We’ve been trying unsuccessfully since our May 2012 wedding and loads of testing over the summer that says we are healthy & “normal” (that tube checking thing? NOT pleasant!). I appreciate your post so much because we’re often so reluctant to talk about infertility in our society, though we freely talk about a lot of our other medical problems, which is what infertility is in my mind anyway.

        So as we are about to embark on this journey, I really, really appreciate hearing the stories of others – it makes it a lot less lonely knowing that there are A LOT of other couples going through this. I’ve even had some family & friends tell me about their IUI experiences because I’ve been open about our plans, which has been very helpful emotionally and psychologically.

        And the insurance stuff? BAH!!! I also live in a state that requires employers of a certain size (i.e. including my employer Uncle Sam) to offer infertility coverage, but the coverage itself isn’t that great, but I guess it is better than nothing. I love how most insurance companies will cover all the tests necessary to diagnose the infertility, but once it’s diagnosed they want nothing to do with it. Gee, thanks.

        So thank you, thank you. I’m happy that your journey lead to a healthy baby girl and I pray ours has the same result!

  • SO many congratulations!!!

    I have had my own struggle with infertility and loss(es) – three miscarriages, two laparascopic surgeries, failed IUIs, drugs, so many dildo-cam ultrasounds that I lost count ages ago. I GET this so much.

    I’m typing this 28 weeks pregnant with a baby boy that has made me an eye-roll-worthy stereotype (conceived intervention-free the MONTH before we were set to start IVF, although no way in hell was it because I just “relaxed.”). I know I won’t ever let my guard down until I hear him crying safe and sound, but I just love hearing these stories. No matter where someone is in their journey through infertility or building a family, it’s so great to hear from those who have been through it, and get it.

    • Good luck to you! I was nervous throughout the entire pregnancy and even now I have moments where I’m afraid it will all be taken from me. But it also makes me appreciate every moment we do have that much more.

  • CONGRATULATIONS! Your daughter is beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing your story. I have endometriosis and PCOS and it took me forever to get diagnosed with both conditions. My husband and I haven’t started the baby-making-business yet, but we’ve basically been told that it’ll be a miracle if we can do it on our own. We’ll see.

    Thank you for not giving up and for being so strong. Lots of love to you and your family!

  • Amanda

    I had the pure joy and pleasure of going through the shots and lovely dildo-cam part of this process as an egg donor for three couples. I am even more lucky that one couple, two great men in the UK, asked to meet me and now we are facebook friends. I am in awe of all of the love that went into these babies before they even existed! If I ever get to meet the donor babies I got to have a teeny tiny part in helping to make I will tell them to just know that they were loved beyond any measure.
    Thank you for sharing this part of the process; the love, trials, heartbreaks and pure stubborn grit that sometimes goes into making a baby.
    And for anyone going into IVF, an ice pack for two minutes before the shots made a world of difference for me.

  • Congratulations!

  • KB

    Sob. Sobby sob sob.

  • KC

    So, um, query: what are those two or three questions that it would take to have figured out endometriosis? Last time I checked with a (potentially misinformed!) gynecologist (for lo, Bad Cramps et al), the only thing she could tell me was that endometriosis could be found with exploratory surgery, which didn’t seem too helpful unless you were having abdominal surgery anyway for some other random reason.

    (I feel like a “One Weird Trick to figure out whether you have endometriosis!” ad. But I’d really like to know if there *are* questions I or they should be asking, but aren’t/haven’t, since I’ve found that even when the knowledge is there, the assumption is often that of course X or Y would already have been explored… which is not helpful when X and Y have not, in fact, been looked at in the least!)

    • Well, the thing with endometriosis is, as you have been told, that other than an exploratory laparoscopy there is no way to diagnose it, unless you see it.*
      And the symptoms are mostly random, and can be due to other causes too: abdominal / pelvic pain, strong menstrual cramps, sometimes pain during intercourse or urination, low back pain, diarrhea or constipation.
      Also, there is actually NO correlation between the degree of the endometriosis and the severity of the symptoms. Some women with severe endometriosis have no symptoms at all.
      There are a lot of unknowns surrounding endometriosis (its causes, the fact that it is recidivant, that is, it can come back even after it has been all cleared out).
      So, it is not all bad intentions of the doctors. Rather, they will go and look if there is really a reason to suspect it (pain that will not react to NSAID painkillers, or inability to work function on those days), or yes, sub/infertility (e.g. trying after 1 year, and no other cause (ovulation problems, clear tubes via HSG, semen analyses ok) has been found. By protocol, doctors won’t send you to surgery (even if laparoscopic surgery is rather non-invasive) unless other possible causes have been ruled out.

      *Sometimes endometriosis causes not only adhesions, but cysts, called endometriomas, and these would be seen through an ultrasound exploration.

      So I guess what I am saying is, no easy answer here.

    • Nobody until my fertility doctor ever asked how bad my cramps were.

      I knew women had cramps. And I knew women who had to take sick days at work once a month, and mine weren’t that bad. So I figured I was within normal range. So I never brought it up. Or the other changes I noticed on a monthly basis since they were the same changes every month. I cycled monthly between constipation and not. Which made a lot of sense after seeing how much endo was growing on my bowel.

      I never thought the 50 or so Ibuprofen I took the first three days of my cycle every month was excessive till we met our fertility doctor. The cycle after surgery I took 6.

      Surgery is the only way to diagnose it, but I had so many symptoms that it could’ve been found and treated in my 20s rather than now.

      Based on my infertility, the fact that my cramps were excessive, I had clock-work regular cycles, and had hit my 30s, my infertility doctor told me he could guarantee I had it and the only question was how much it would effect my ability to get pregnant.

      • I had symptoms in my teens, and was so scared of the idea of surgery that I went on the pill, which at least masked the problem by moving my periods off their normal 24 day cycle.
        Once I changed pills, I started having days where I would be unable to sit up unless it was on the floor, supported by boxes or similar. And nights when I would wake up with a hot flush and constipation (mine were all on my bowels too), and be unsure whether I should sit on the toilet or lie on the floor so I didn’t fall off and could cool down properly.
        Thankfully, one surgery removed enough that I fell pregnant naturally within 4 months. I never got a pain-free period before I fell pregnant though, so I am incredibly nervous about them returning sometime soon…

        • I’m afraid of it coming back as well. I’m nursing as much as I can to hold it off as long as I can to give our remaining embryos the best chance possible. I feel like a ticking time bomb some times with it.

          • KC

            I have a friend whose babies appear to have thrown her endometriosis into permanent or semi-permanent inactive status (I mean, she’s not menopausal, so it could theoretically return? but kids are now in early grade school, so…). There’s hope, maybe?

      • KC

        Thank you!

        (and also, congratulations! I didn’t initially say congratulations since I already knew from your blog, so while the post is very cool, it didn’t occur to me as news. :-) I do find it absolutely amazing that you managed to stick out the whole 9 yards of treatment, because, yikes.)

      • Class of 1980

        Just wanted to add that even with horrific cramps, it’s not always a sign of endometriosis. I had ungodly cramps, ate lots of ibuprofen, endometriosis runs in my family … yet I didn’t have endo!

        I had two laparoscopic surgeries – a tubal ligation and later an endometrial ablation to control bleeding. My doctor did a biopsy of the uterine lining prior to the second surgery to rule out cancer or endometrosis. No sign of endo.

        You can have excessive cramping and bleeding because your monthly “dance of hormones” is off kilter. Too much estrogen and not enough progesterone cause the uterine lining to overgrow each month, resulting in excessive bleeding. The more lining, the more prostaglandins you produce to signal the uterus to contract, which results in much harsher cramping.

        Treatment is either hormones, endometrial ablation which kills your option of getting pregnant, or hysterectomy.

        The female reproductive system is a trip, which is why if there’s reincarnation, I’m holding out for a planet with a better reproductive scheme.

        (To add to all this, if you have a tubal ligation, there is a syndrome where bleeding and cramps become even worse than before surgery. It happened to me, and my sister actually developed endometriosis a few months after her tubal ligation! This syndrome is poorly understood by doctors currently.)

      • Brianne

        This is SO me. Except my RE never followed up on the note on my questionnaire that I had unbearable cramps. It took two failed IUIs and a lot of money before my gynecologist followed up on it. I just got off of a six month cycle of Lupron following my laparoscopy with excision. I loved not having a period for six months but I’ve basically given up on the whole having a baby thing. I’m pretty sure it’s not going to happen for us because my husband doesn’t want to spend tens of thousands of dollars on a shot in the dark.

        • Surgery followed by lupron was one of our options. But as I was approaching advanced maternal age, we decided it wasn’t our best option. I have a dear friend that is going that route right now though.

          It sucks that while infertility is classified as a disability, insurance doesn’t have to cover tests or treatment.

          • MDBethann

            Hear hear on the insurance part. Stupid health insurance.

    • midwestmelissa

      A red flag leading me to get the laparoscopic surgery to diagnose endometriosis was that I was using WAY over the recommended daily dose of ibuprofen and it was still not making my life OK with the amount of pain I was in. My main regret is that I did not pursue surgery sooner, because it really helped with my pain. 10 years later, I had my second surgery. Two months after that, I conceived via IUI. I am now 36 weeks pregnant with my first child.

      Check out the books and materials of the Endometriosis Association: – very helpful books!

      Good luck – endo sucks. But it makes you into an expert advocate for yourself, by necessity!

      • I never counted how much I took till we were dealing with infertility, but my daughter is going to get sick of hearing the warning signs as she hits puberty. She got my smile and ear lobes, I want her to know early if she also got my endo.

        Good luck with your pregnancy!

  • Rachel

    I’m so happy for you!!!!! Bawling as I read it but it is all happy tears for you and your partner! Thank you so much for sharing this. I agree, sciatic nerve pain sucks.

  • Sarah

    Thank you for sharing your story. Congratulations on your beautiful baby girl!

  • Jessica

    oh. my. word. this post needed a major tear warning. i just sobbed into my guacamole and now the cat is looking at me like i’m deranged. there are just not enough exclamation points or congratulations to extend to you, some internet stranger. but I’ll try…CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!! also it’s difficult to type that while tearing up yet again. SO MANY BLESSINGS TO YOUR FAMILY!!!!! :)

  • N

    Definitely sobbing at my desk. Thank you for this post. God bless you and…congratulations! <3

  • Congrats SO MUCH!

    I am SO SO SO happy for you!

  • Congratulations!!! Your post made me laugh and cry all at the same time. I’m so happy for you and your family.

  • Thank you so much for this. It’s always really encouraging to read stories of bravery in the face of this total utter shit of infertility. My embryo transfer is tomorrow, provided at least one egg made it that far in the game. I’m so very glad for you, Giggles. (Also, for anybody wanting a good infertility book that really breaks it all down, “Navigating the Land of IF” is wonderful.)

    • Hugs and fingers crossed for you tomorrow!

  • Emmy

    Wow. What a very wanted little girl. Thank you for sharing your experience, and a hearty congratulations to all three of you!

  • Crayfish Kate

    I am not a kid person. I do not have kids, and I do not want kids. That said, your post has me all teary-eyed. I am sitting here in awe of all you went through – the shots, the waiting, the emotions, the stress, more shots – all in the midst of working on and completing your PhD. I am dumbstruck.

    You are one of the strongest women I have ever heard of. Best wishes to you and your new family, and a big Congrats on your PhD. Well. Done. :-D

    • Thank you. I tend to not think about how crazy what I’m doing is while I’m doing it. Only after do I look back and wonder what was I thinking.

  • Aileen

    “Though she be but little, she is fierce!” – Shakespeare, Midsummer Night’s Dream.


    • I love that. Thank you!

      • Aileen

        As a small woman (5’0″), I think every little girl needs that quote. :)

  • Congratulations! Oh my stars, your daughter is just beautiful. & thanks so much for sharing your story. After miscarriage, ovarian cysts & endometriosis, I just finished my first (& hopefully only) IVF experience. Your journey gives me hope. Best wishes to you & your family~

    • Good luck to you! I will keep my fingers crossed for you.

  • My sob in the car song is Mumford & Sons “Ghosts That We Knew”. (Sooo good.)
    We just “officially” started our journey today with my first tests done at the fertility clinic, after 4 years of trying with no luck. It’s beautiful to see you’ve made it to the other side and it was all worthwhile. Congratulations a million times over & over & over & over!!!!!
    (Also – the OB that told you to take a vacation & you would get pregnant? Can I punch her in the kidney?!?! Sorry – but SERIOUSLY.)

    • Good luck. I hope your tests give you answers.

  • I cannot wait to meet her! Love you!

  • MegsDad

    Oh My God.

    At least one experienced dad read your post with unmitigated awe. Giggles, I have been reading your comments for years and had no idea. You personalized one of the most difficult experiences a woman can endure, and did it concisely and without self-pity. I can not express how much I admire you.

    Oh, and congratulations on your new daughter. Tell your husband that he is going to learn that daughters are special, and that he will learn it with a delight like no other.

    • Thank you, truly.

      I have loved watching the relationship my husband and daughter have established from the moment he found out he was having a daughter and started worrying about the guys he’d have to scare off when she became a teenager.

  • I have my first infertility appointment in one week after a year of trying. Somehow even at this stage I feel lost and defeated and we haven’t even been subjected to shots, hormones or surgery yet. I’m terrified and more sad than I could have imagined.

    congratulations on your beautiful baby girl!

    • Good luck with your appointment. I think I cried when I set up our first one. That was such a huge emotional hurdle to get over, to openly admit things weren’t working the way we wanted them to. Gratefully I left that first appointment with a strong sense of hope. Please contact me if you ever need to talk.

    • MDBethann

      Sarahsurgeon, hugs to you – we had our infertility consultation on Oct. 29th and I just confirmed my order for my IUI shots this morning. Good luck with the testing and I hope things work out for you soon!

  • This is so beautifully written. She is so beautiful.

    Clearly, I am very slow on the uptake today, as I “missed” the part where you became pregnant, instead reading “Pregnancy!!!” as “Uch, you crazy thing called Pregnancy, why are you so hard??!” and was thoroughly confused when suddenly there was a heartbeat.

    I need a nap.

  • Thank you all. We think she is absolutely beautiful. And her laughter is pure magic. If someone had told me at the start that this would be her story I don’t know if I would’ve had the guts to go through with it. Sometimes we just have to step into the dark and have faith that the path will be lit before us as we need it.

    • And in that darkness we may find our partner can be like the light of Earendil, a light for when all other lights go out. (Sorry, big nerd here, but it was very true throughout this hardship that it did strengthen our relationship and made me fear hard/dark stuff less.)

  • elle

    So many happy tears. And hope. Congratulations!

  • Amanda L.

    Congratulations and thank you for your post. We are on month 16 in our TTC journey. This month we had our first IUI. I cannot imagine having to continue to go through this for another year plus, but I applaud your bravery and determination in bringing your beautiful child into this world!

    • MDBethann

      I’m right there with you. We’re at month 18 TTC and start IUI in the next week. I’m not sure how long – emotionally or psychologically – I’ll be able to do it either, so I told my husband I’m willing to do a year of medical procedures & then I’d like to start researching adoption if that year hasn’t been successful.

      Good luck to you and I hope your journey is a fruitful one!

  • Meaghan W

    Congrats!!! So glad this had a happy ending

  • Emma

    Congratulations! I’m so happy for you.

    This is why I want to become a fertility doctor.

    • We love ours. He’s a real trip. He really gets emotionally involved and we feel he’s a part of our family now. Taking our daughter back to meet him was one of the best experiences.

  • Leoka

    Reading this post brought tears to my eyes. I’m about to start fertility treatment in January, and I’m so terrified of what all I’ll need to do to become a mom. So glad to hear a happy-ending story about it!

    • Good luck! Starting is super hard emotionally. Please contact me if you ever have questions or just want to talk to someone who gets it.

  • So happy for you!! I laughed and cried when I read your post. Congrats on the new baby :)

  • Amanda

    Oh my, I was enjoying your post, scrolling slowly, until… THOSE TOES. I am writing my dissertation, crying at my desk for your lovely new addition, and craving some cuddles from my little guy at home. A big congratulations, and all the best things for you and your family in the future!

  • Grace

    Major congratulations on your baby. As a 23 year old sufferer of endometriosis I am all too aware that our story could easily look a lot like yours. As long as I keep hearing happy ending stories, however long it takes, it gives me hope that we can get through this. We’re just feeling the pressure to Ty soon more than other couples our age. I found the section about your biggest fear particularly helpful, I’d say that was my second biggest fear after never being able to have a baby. Much love to you all, thanks so much for sharing xxx

  • Heather

    I’m so happy you had a baby! Congratulations!

  • V

    Thank you for writing this. I lost a baby this summer at 5 months pregnant. We’re gearing up to try again and every time I listen to the long list of interventions my OB is suggesting I start dwelling on the thought of doing all that (shots every week! dr’s appts every other week! up to six months of bed rest!) only to have it all go wrong again. It’s heartening to hear a story with a long awaited happy ending.

    • Huge gentle hugs for you and wishes of peace and comfort for your own happy ending.

  • Autumn

    I started tearing up just seeing the photo and title of this post. Although my infertility road was not as long as yours, you captured the rollercoaster I experienced perfectly. Beautifully written, and I’m so glad you’ve met your sweet baby! Congratulations!

  • Haylee

    I feel a strange connection to you and your family. So glad this had a happy ending!

  • Tiffany

    I started tearing up when I saw your precious baby’s picture at the end. What a long, hard road for a priceless gift. Congratulations to you both!

  • Wow, this is very touching. Congrats!! My husband and I have been trying the old fashioned way to have a baby for a few years now. We always thought it would happen eventually. But I want a baby now! I have an obgyn appointment in Sugar Land next month and hopefully she can explain why we are having so much trouble. Hopefully I will be able to post a picture of my beautiful baby soon like you.

  • Anon.

    I know this post is from a month ago, but…

    I have tears running down my face about the period pain. I had INTENSE pain since my very first at 13, which got better as I got older (I’m now 24). I have some anger I need to work through with my psychologist about this, so I won’t go into detail other than I did not get the support I needed from my doctors while a CHILD (my mum is my mum, not a medical professional, so less anger at her). I have yet to be checked properly for endometriosis, but the internal exam the gynaecologist tried was SO PAINFUL she sent me straight to a women’s health physiotherapist. 3 months later, I have almost NO pain during my periods and sex takes some calm breathing and extra lubricant instead of an hour of “getting into it”. Turns out we weren’t doing anything “wrong”, I just had hypertonic pelvic muscles. I am terrified I’ll find out more stuff is wrong when I go back to the gynaecologist, and I’m not sure I’m as strong as you if we need help to get pregnant.

    Your baby is beautiful, by the way.