As a little girl, I remember playing on the swing set outside my house talking with my brother about what we wanted to be when we grew up. He wanted to be a cowboy, following in our father’s footsteps, but the career I wanted to pursue was mom. It seemed fulfilling, meaningful, and..well…natural. I just couldn’t picture anything else.

Fast forward 20 years. Here I am, a first grade teacher who pulls a side job in taking care of her cow herd and helping her husband raise and harvest crops in my spare time. Life may be a little different than what I had pictured, but nothing could have prepared me for this last year.

After dating for 4 years, Brandon and I finally tied the knot June 22, 2013. We continued building our life, business, and began planning for a future family. It wasn’t until March of 2015 we decided we were ready to try for a baby. Deciding this was no small feat, it took a year of talking about back and forth before we were both on board. In April we came to the conclusion that no time would ever be the “right time” and we would take a leap of faith. With this decision we also chose not to tell anyone we were trying. We talked about how fun it would be to surprise our families with our news of a new little one on the way.

We ditched the pill pack had some unprotected sex and damn, I felt liberated. Sex became this whole new level of intimacy. Now I don’t want to go describing it as some romance novel. We aren’t actors by any means. Nor are we super sexy and lovey dovey. Nonetheless, there was a deeper connection between the two of us. We were going to make a baby. A human child. OUR human child.

To our dismay, we found out I was not pregnant. That was okay, we would just get pregnant next month. So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Waited some more.

Became frustrated.

Tried everything in the book.

Waited even longer.

Waited impatiently.

Kept on waiting.

Cried, and waited.

Now, 12 cycles, an HSG test, a semen analysis, some blood work, progesterone pills and an RE appointment later. Here we sit. Humbled. Heartbroken. And still hopeful for a future filled with children. Hell, at this point a future filled with even one child sounds like a miracle from the big man.

The picture we had in mind for telling our families our big news has now become smudged. The faith we had in our bodies, depleted. (Literally…progesterone does some weird shit to you.) Our joy in trying for a baby, turned to heartbreak.

It’s time to talk about this journey. It’s time to stop feeling ashamed of myself. It’s time to be strong and move forward with my life…while we patiently wait to build a herd of our own.

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