I’m not a failure, I am an infertility warrior. I’ve had to tell myself this countless times and on more occasions than I’d like to admit. The word infertility never even crossed my mind as I was a fairly healthy woman with no medical concerns and a regular cycle since my teenage years. My husband and I were married in 2015, and at the time, I had just finished my sixth year of teaching. We loved to travel and enjoy time together, so the following year we agreed that we needed one more summer of just us before we began to try for a family.

Life had other plans. I didn’t know it then, but what I know now is that I needed to hear the words, “it’s not your fault.”

In July 2017, I fell pregnant naturally, and we were ecstatic! It seemed so relatively easy, and at that point, I considered myself one of the lucky ones. Unfortunately, our excitement quickly fizzled when I found myself experiencing a miscarriage at about seven weeks into my pregnancy. We were crushed, but found hope in knowing that it had happened so easily, so we would surely fall pregnant again soon . . . we thought.

Was I falling short of motherhood already? I learned I needed grace and understanding. After trying again for quite some time, we came to the conclusion that it might be wise to talk with a fertility doctor. Defeat. Let down. Hopeless. That was the last place I wanted to be, emotionally and physically.

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In 2018, we consulted with a fertility clinic. I won’t ever forget sitting in the examination room. I was told I have “ovulatory dysfunction” and the cause of this was most likely from stress. Furthermore, stress from teaching. How ironic that what I had dreamt of my whole life and the career I had built for myself was the exact thing that was possibly creating infertility for me at that point in time. More wounds.

I felt like I was failing, and my body was a dud. I started to see more and more friends and family announce pregnancies, and everywhere I turned, there was another pregnant belly. The grocery store, my workplace, church, social media—I was ashamed to admit that it was painful. We received words of encouragement such as it’ll happen when it happens; try not to worry, have fun in the process; God has a plan; you are still young! And I tried so hard to believe the kind, innocent things others said to help keep our hopes up, but deep down I carried an ache that wouldn’t go away. Wounds that some just didn’t understand.

With God’s grace, I began to share my story without feeling like I had to secretly get through this battle without being completely honest. I told myself I didn’t have to feel shame from others for not handling the situation in a specific way. That was a truly freeing feeling. I began to receive messages of encouragement from people I had lost touch with, some who had questions about what we had tried and others sharing similar stories when they had felt alone and full of miscarriage wounds. Wounds only a true warrior could wear. Life had other plans but I fought to control the roller coaster feeling.

Another summer came and my husband and I had a vacation planned. We enjoyed almost two weeks away, and it was wonderful to just be me and not feel consumed with baby thoughts. To our complete joy and surprise, shortly after we returned home from our trip, we became pregnant. Two years into our fertility journey, and we had conceived! It was a true miracle from God.

RELATED: God Redeemed the Broken Parts of My Infertility Story

In April of 2020, we brought our baby boy home. It was finally our turn. I had waited weeks and months to announce a bundle of joy, and he was finally here—our prayers had been answered. We soaked up every minute with him and embraced new parenthood as best we could.

We knew we wanted to try for baby number two as soon as we were able to. However, it became apparent that we were having no such luck trying for another. We went straight back to the fertility clinic and inquired about IVF. The year 2022 was full of medicine, medical bills, appointments, and the unknown. I again struggled with thoughts of Why is this happening? My body is made for this! We went through two grueling rounds of IVF egg retrievals and transfers and still no new pregnancies to announce as I’m writing this.

We are in a waiting period. Listening to my body and trying to be kind. Gathering courage and healing wounds until we know what to do next. I never imagined it would be this hard, but I’ve realized I’m not a failure and my body is still capable.

If you have experienced infertility or miscarriage, you are not alone. Sometimes we’ll have to wait for an answer and not everything makes sense. Every four weeks heartache sets in, and the wounds I’ve carried for six years now attack me again. But each day, I am able to get up and do it all again because I know in my heart I am an infertility warrior with God on my side.