Our IVF Journey

The Baby We’re Still Praying For I have carried a dream in my heart that I don’t know how to put into words. I want to be a mom. I want to hold a baby that is ours, to see my husband become a dad, and to experience the little moments that so many people get to experience without ever realizing how precious they are. For three years, we have tried. We’ve tried the timing, the tips, the tricks, the vitamins, the things people swear will work. We’ve prayed, we’ve hoped, we’ve waited, and every month we’ve had to face that same heartbreak all over again. And the hardest part is that we have been given an explanation that makes this even harder to process. My husband’s sperm count is around 3.2 million. We’ve been told about treatments and different options, but those treatments come with a price tag that we simply cannot afford right now. People sometimes say, “Why don’t you just adopt?” And I understand that adoption is beautiful. I have nothing but respect for families who choose that path. But for us, our hearts are longing for a biological child. We want a baby that is ours—our genetics, our little features, our eyes, our smiles, a tiny piece of both of us that we get to love for the rest of our lives. Wanting that does not mean we don’t value adoption. It simply means we know what our hearts are longing for. I’ve realized that I’m not just waiting for a baby anymore. I’m grieving one. I grieve the child I haven’t gotten to meet. I grieve the pregnancy announcements that are harder to hear than I wish they were. I grieve watching other people have the life I have been praying for. I grieve every negative test, every month that passes, every “maybe next time,” and every time I have to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. And sometimes I feel guilty for being sad when someone else gets their miracle. I don’t want to take away from anyone else’s happiness. I’m genuinely happy for people. But sometimes their joy reminds me of the empty space in my own heart. There are days when I feel angry. Days when I feel jealous. Days when I feel completely defeated. And then there are days when I still believe somehow, some way, our baby is coming. I don’t know what our story is going to look like. I don’t know how long we’ll have to wait. I don’t know if the answer will come through a treatment we can someday afford, a miracle we never saw coming, or a path we haven’t even discovered yet. But I do know this: this baby is already loved. Before we know their name, before we know what they’ll look like, before we ever get to hold them, they are already wanted beyond words. So if you think of us, please pray for us. Pray for our future baby. Pray for my husband and for me. Pray that somehow the door opens for us to become parents. Because after three years of trying, hoping, praying, and grieving, I’m still holding onto the same dream. I just want my baby. 🤍

How we'll use the funds: The whole Ivf treatment and plans I’ve only done blood testing