Little Cone Flower

There’s not really any other way to put it. It’s hard to explain to those who have never gone through it, and it’s hard to find people within the infertility realm who have your exact situation.

Our infertility journey began like anyone’s journey to have a baby. In March 2020 we started talking more seriously about starting a family. The casual, almost joking, “You want to go make a baby? (wink, wink)” slowly turned into, “I could stop taking birth control.”

By June we had decided, “Why not? Let’s go for it!” At this point, we were both working from home, it was the beginning of summer, we’d have a spring baby and everything would be perfect!

L O L.

All of the future disappointment set aside, I was bursting at the seams with nervous excitement. I concealed our new venture for a week before telling my friend, Jane, we were starting our baby journey. She instantly echoed my enthusiasm and surreal feelings. It was so strange to be stepping into this realm of baby-making that forever felt like a big “no-no” and only something adults do. (Granted, I was 26 and very much an adult.)

There were five months of bliss. Five months of blind hope and nervous excitement each time I peed on a stick. Five months of collecting all the information on babies, birth and best supplies to purchase. Five months where my hand would shake every time I’d check a pregnancy test because I was more scared of being pregnant than being told no. Without realizing it, those were the last five months of being the Kaylee I had always been. Without realizing it, I was closing a chapter on my innocence and simplicity.

November was when the stress began to take up residency. We were coming up on six months of trying with no success. Although I knew people found success anywhere within the first year, I couldn’t help but begin to worry. Both of our parents had histories of a quick turnaround, so as time continued to pass, I began to feel there must be a problem to solve. In hopes of helping our situation, I started taking prenatal vitamins, fish oil and tracking my period.

In November we also found out our close friends, Chelsea and Isaac, had begun trying to start their family only a few months after us. I remember that day because having someone in the same situation to talk to felt good. Even though they were a few months behind our journey the same thoughts and wonders had begun to creep into Chelsea’s mind. It was the first realization that although I hoped neither of us was on the path of infertility, I found comfort in the companionship.

As the year came to a close, I was fighting an internal battle. I wanted to ask Brian’s mom for advice about our situation, and yet I wanted to keep it a surprise. Surprising Brian’s family with the news of a baby was something I had dreamed of early on in our relationship. Between their next-level excitement about babies, the potential of having the first grandkid and the closeness of living up the road, I had painted a perfect picture of that moment in time. However, as time ticked on, I couldn’t help but begin to feel doubt creep into my mind. What if I never got my surprise? What if my perfect picture was never meant to exist?

Looking back, I believe it was during these last few months of 2020 when I started to swallow myself up inside my head.