So we tried to get pregnant simply by no longer trying to not get pregnant. We didn’t plan anything, we didn’t think about it too much, and before we knew it a few months had gone by. We weren’t too concerned, we just decided to try being a little more intentional about trying – timing things out, buying a few ovulation kits. We kept it light, and I tried not to voice my fears that something was wrong. I was really trying not to worry. However, as the months started to go by, I started to have the feeling that the paranoid voice in my head that I can often excuse was maybe, in fact, this time, correct. That sinking dread of realizing that the fear is maybe turning into a reality is . . . Well . . . A bit desperate feeling. There were tears, there were way too many hours spent on the internet trying to figure out what else we could do to help, and I also read way too many stories on-line of couples who tried for upwards of 10 years with no happy result. And I started to see what could be our life. I admit – my hope started dwindling very quickly while Seth, at least to me, seemed to still be positive and not too worried. That lack of worry, while a bit comforting, was also frustrating.  
We told ourselves after a year – if nothing happened – we would go to the doctor. A year came, and I remember gathering up the courage to call my regular doctor to make the appointment.  
The receptionist asked in her cheerful voice, “And what is this appointment for?”  
And I took a deep breath and answered, “We are worried about infertility.”
I hung up the phone and cried. Just saying the word out loud made me feel so helpless and angry. To this day – I hate, hate, hate that word, and I hate that it is connected to me. But – at the same time, I was relieved to go to the doctor and possibly get some answers. So we went – and I went through a battery of blood tests, physicals, and sonograms, but nada. Zilch. There was nothing to suggest why nothing had happened yet. That may sound like good news, but I found it more frustrating. If there is nothing to fix, then why isn’t it working. If there is nothing to fix, then there is nothing to do to change what is or what is not happening.  

The doctor suggested to just be patient.

I wanted to punch her in the face.

But I didn’t. So I decided to just be patient. . . . Or whatever.

You see – the cavalier attitude about having children that I had for most of my life had changed. It was now almost all I could think about. I wanted a baby. I craved a baby. And this made me wonder if I only wanted it because it was seemingly something I could never have, or maybe it wasn’t happening because God thought I wouldn’t be a good mom, or maybe God was punishing me for not wanting children before, or . . . .  and the thought process can just veer off into a terrible place so quickly, can’t it? However, the truth of it was, I really wanted a baby. And I didn’t want to be patient.  

But what else could I do.