I met my husband online in a Mormon Dating site back in 2005. He was moving to Arizona from Ohio to increase his chances of getting hitched. I was the first woman he met, and the last he dated. We were married 2 months after he got to Arizona.
I’ve wanted to be a mommy my entire life, it’s the driving force behind everything I do. Needless to say we have never used contraceptives (unless advised by my fertility doctor during IVF cycles), and we’ve never stopped trying. We didn’t have the money or insurance early on to go see the fertility doctor, so we relied on lots of ‘baby making’.
I’m still very much attracted to my husband, and even after 10 years of marriage we’re intimate on a pretty regular basis – which I’ve found out through support groups isn’t always the case. Last year we found out that he was part of the problem, and that on top of my PCOS and other factors has made it impossible without outside intervention.
Following that revelation we’ve now had 4 semi-failed IVF cycles. I say semi-failed because they got me pregnant at least two did, but I miscarried both times. If we hadn’t fixed the sperm-side of the equation, we wouldn’t have gotten that far, but it’s still frustrating.
My doctor is frazzled by the multiple miscarriages and failures – but we’re hoping that our 5th attempt in June will be our saving grace. Honestly, I don’t know how much more heartbreak I can take from this endeavor. A week or so I made this graphic to share with friends and family to help people see what we’re going through:
Though they were only with me fore mere weeks, I gave each of my lost angels a name. We knew the sex through DNA testing of the twins, but not Morgan, so we just gave a name that could be male or female.