If you told me when I was in the throes of infertility, that motherhood would be this hard, I wouldn’t have believed you.
We spent eleven, long, painful years waiting. Every cycle, every month, being disappointed. Surgeries, medications, supplements, doctors visits, specialists, charts — for years, I thought it would never end.
And in July 2012, I was done. After a week of painful ultrasounds that were not easy to schedule because of a course, with compulsory attendance, I was taking. I went to Adoration and cried in front of Jesus and surrendered it all. I gave him my brokenness, my disappointments and dream of becoming a biological mother.
Only He knew that it would take four more years to find my children.
Looking through the lens of after, I can see that the foundation was being laid for my family. We found our forever home. I got a bigger vehicle. I opened my heart to all of the different possibilities that could come for our family of two.
And the moment I saw their photos, in the last two pages of the profile book that rainy Saturday afternoon, I knew. I knew they were the children that God had prepared me for. Every fibre of my being knew that all of the heartache and pain that we endured was for them.
Now, ten months into motherhood, my entire world has been turned upside down. My quiet, predictable life, is no longer. There are so many rewards, but there have also been so many tears — not just from the children, but from me. I am humbled every day, and having to give so much of myself has truly been the most difficult part of my transition to motherhood.
Would I go back to childlessness?
Do I sometimes forget that the kids weren’t always here?
So, here I stumble. Trying to accepting my new reality, regardless of my lack of confidence and self-doubt. And hopefully, I can muddle through motherhood without causing too much harm.