Hubby called me from work the other night and said “You should write a book.” I was confused until he shared that one of his coworkers asked him for advice on her own fertility struggle. It’s not always easy putting my heartbreak out for all to see, but if it helps someone else, maybe it’s worth the trouble.
Not sure I could ever write a book but maybe a blog. At least it will spare my Facebook friends, especially the ones blessed with children who awkwardly like my shares.
I can’t promise this will be well-written. I hope it’s better than my college angst livejournal that I recently sent into the digital beyond as part of a Day Zero. But I can promise it will be totally honest.
The basics are as follows: Hubby and I fell in love in 2006, married in 2009, and began waiting for the stork in 2011. 18 months into the process, a congenital uterine abnormality was discovered that precluded most noninvasive procedures. Behold the answer: IVF. I’m “so young”, this for sure was the answer. 2 unsuccessful cycles and a miscarriage later, my answer seems to have given us more questions. The hardest of these is: Will there ever be a Baby RafKap?