Waiting to Be Pregnant

A Gift for Mom! 🤍

I have been crying a lot lately. And it’s all because my husband and I are trying to start a family. I wish I could say the tears are happy ones, glistening on my cheeks as I tell my husband good news.

They aren’t.

No, these are big, fat tears that drench my husband’s T-shirts as I bury my head in his chest and sob. I knew trying to have a baby isn’t always easy, but right now, we are at a standstill.

For years, I took the necessary measures to not have babies. I have always wanted to be a mom, but the thought of motherhood in my early twenties was terrifying. I wasn’t ready to grow another person for nine months and then proceed to have all the responsibility that follows.

Instead, I soaked up the blissful first years of marriage. Just me, my husband, our cats and dogs. It has been fantastic, but as we passed the two-year mark in our marriage, we wanted to add to our family. I’m 25 and he is 27. We are young and healthy. I prayed that these factors would be in our favor.

I tossed my birth control pills out the window with glee. (OK, not really. I just didn’t refill my prescription.) I figured there might be some crazy, hormonal side effects after stopping the pill. When I didn’t get my period, I couldn’t believe that we were able to conceive so quickly. But all the negative pregnancy tests proved we hadn’t. Instead, Aunt Flo packed her bags and decided to take a long vacation. While I am not a fan of her visits, I know her arrival is a sign of health and regularity.

At first, I figured it was just one month. I tried not to panic. But I did. So I Googled it. Word to the wise: Don’t Google medical problems. The ailments WebMD says you can have are terrifying.

I waited another month. Nothing. I made an appointment with my doctor, and she suggested waiting one more month to see if my body would regulate on it’s own. If nothing happened, they would give me a prescription to get things going.

Another month, and nothing.

I dutifully took the pills prescribed, hoping something would happen while I was taking them. Nothing. So we continue to wait.

I don’t know what our future holds. I have been told to be patient, relax and not to worry. I pray this is just a small bump in the road. But the rosy future I held for my family is beginning to show cracks. I can’t imagine my life without children to love, nurture and cherish. It seems as if every week a pregnancy or birth announcement pops up on Facebook. Comparing myself to others isn’t fair, but I can’t help it. I desperately want to have a child of our own, and I’m terrified that won’t be our fate.

I expressed these fears and desires to my husband as I cried for the third time in a few weeks. In all this time, he has remained stoic, positive and loving. My pillar of strength and hope. But that night, I saw tears welling in his eyes. I hate seeing the man I love in pain, but that moment gave me hope. My pain is his pain, and vice versa. Our seas are a little rough at the moment, but knowing someone is in the boat with me gives me strength to weather this storm.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Grief infertility

Ashley Bebensee

Hi! I’m Ashley, a Nebraska girl living in Wyoming. I grew up on a farm in western Nebraska, graduated with a class of 28 and ventured to the middle of the state to attend the University of Nebraska at Kearney. It was there I met the love of my life and husband, Brett. He is the most romantic, kind and intelligent person I know. And he makes me belly-laugh (truly the best kind). We have two cats and two dogs that are spoiled rotten. I am a content manager at a weekly newspaper, where I get to spend my days reading, writing, editing and designing a newspaper. British television shows, wine and caramel apples from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory are my guilty pleasure. Shopping with my mom, going to the movies with my husband, long phone conversations with my dad and spoiling my nieces and nephews are just a few of my favorite activities. While I try to plan out all the details of life like the good control freak that I am, God is always throwing in curveballs. And so far, each of those curveballs have given me a bountiful amount of stress and love, adventure and joy, and more blessings than I could have ever imagined.

Farewell My Father: Walking the Trail of Beauty in Old Age

In: Grief

In his last years, Dad spent his days in a chair by the big picture window. From there, he could survey all the comings and goings of the ranch. He watched the weather, the dogs, and our Arabian stallion, Axum, galloping through the pines and calling to the mares across the hill. Occasionally, Dad would alert us that a certain dog had escaped or that a storm was coming in. He was looking out. He was keeping track. He needed help to move even a few steps. At night, my husband or I cleaned him, dressed him, and tucked him into...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Healing Doesn’t Look Like Moving On

In: Grief

Young woman holding red umbrella walking next to canola field

Outside, the sky hung in a thick, dim slab, like a ceiling over the trees that stood crooked in the wind. Not the fresh spring breeze we’re used to in Florida, but the damp, cold kind that makes you pull your coat together with tight fists. I got there right on time, parked in a front spot in the almost-bare lot, and slid my violet boots with fluffy pom-poms onto the asphalt. I braced for the impact of the frigid air and tucked my body inward as I did a little hop-jog into the pub. Once inside, I let out...

Keep Reading

Now that You’re Gone, I Sit In This Waiting Room Alone

In: Grief, Loss

I lay in bed this morning, sweet boy. It is Saturday. Seven of them since you left. Half awake, I turned over and saw Grief staring right at me. She pounced then stood, haughty, on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. She yelled that she would be close today. If she feels like it, she might even be relentless. She is cruel. You were the reason, sweet boy, for me to get out of bed on a Saturday morning. Actually, every morning you were my purpose from the moment I opened my eyes until the moment they shut. I knew on...

Keep Reading

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

In: Grief

They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I found that to be most true when my grandma passed. Like many grandmas, she was the best. She was kind and tender, but firm when she needed to be. She gave her time freely and used her baking talent to bless others. She had little and needed little, yet she had a way of drawing people together. There wasn’t a day I can remember when someone didn’t call her or stop by. She seemed to have all the answers and somehow knew how to fix almost any problem....

Keep Reading

My Parents Will Never See This Face

In: Grief

Woman with sunglasses shown in rear view mirror

You’ve had that moment, right? That moment when you don’t recognize the woman standing in front of you. Her hair is grayer. The skin around her eyes is a bit darker. Even without noticing the small details, that face is different. It’s aged. And as I stared at her yesterday afternoon, all dolled up and nowhere to go, it dawned on me: My parents will never see this version of me. My mom will never get to see hands that look like hers. She’ll never recognize the wrinkles or the sun spots. My father-in-law joked about gray hair with my...

Keep Reading

The Due Date that Never Comes

In: Grief, Loss, Miscarriage

It is not often talked about. I completely understand why, but when going through something so heartbreaking and devastating, women shouldn’t have to suffer alone or in silence. If you’ve gone through it, you probably already know what I’m referring to – miscarriage. It is the reason many couples don’t tell people they are expecting until after the first trimester. It is so unfortunately common that one in four women will experience a miscarriage in their lifetime. According to the National Institutes of Health, 15-20 percent of pregnancies will end in miscarriage, and it is the most common pregnancy complication...

Keep Reading

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

In: Grief, Living

Black and white photo of older man in garden

I was never meant to be a plant person. I’m the woman who can kill a succulent on the way home from the store. Once, a fern sighed in my direction and gave up. That is my spiritual gift. My grandpa Dominic would have laughed—hard. He loved to laugh. And sing hymns passionately in Italian. He was an Italian immigrant who lost his arm working in a mill, and still, he woke up every morning and dressed like dignity itself. He shopped for my grandma. He fixed what was broken. And he tended the biggest, happiest garden you’ve ever seen....

Keep Reading

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

In: Grief

Woman with mother smiling in older photo

Recently, whenever I look in the mirror, I see a strong resemblance to my mother. People always said I looked like her, but I never really saw it until now. I think it may be because you always think of your parents as being older than you are. At the age of 61, I am now only two years away from the age my mother was when she died. The only good thing about dying young is that everyone will remember you that way. I have only known my mom as the vibrant, personable, and active woman she was. Well,...

Keep Reading

I Lost My Daughter on Mother’s Day: 3 Truths I’m Believing Today

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood

Editor’s note: This post discusses child loss Child loss changes Mother’s Day. My 19-month-old, Julia, died suddenly on Mother’s Day in 2024. Three months later, her autopsy revealed she had B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (B-ALL, also known as SUDNIC). Julia died a week after we did an embryo transfer at an IVF clinic in an attempt to have a second child. We found out three days after Julia’s death that the embryo did not make it either. Six months later, we did another embryo transfer that succeeded, and I now have an 8-month-old daughter, Lucy Mei (“Mei Mei” means “little...

Keep Reading

I Miss Having Parents

In: Grief

Grown daughter posing between smiling parents

I have been living with the ache of loss for so long that I truly don’t remember what it feels like not to carry it. Sometimes it rests quietly beneath my ribs, dormant and almost polite. Other times it rises without warning—on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of a coffee line—and cuts straight through me. Today, it was a song. I was waiting for my coffee when “Pictures of You” by The Cure drifted through the café speakers. I hadn’t heard it in 20 years. In my twenties, it meant heartbreak—young love unraveling, relationships ending before they were...

Keep Reading

The Busy Phenomenon And How To Overcome It

Health

The Busy Phenomenon And How To Overcome It

The Bleak/The Bright

Living

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Ashley Bebensee

Farewell My Father: Walking the Trail of Beauty in Old Age

Sometimes Healing Doesn’t Look Like Moving On

Now that You’re Gone, I Sit In This Waiting Room Alone

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

My Parents Will Never See This Face

The Due Date that Never Comes

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

I Lost My Daughter on Mother’s Day: 3 Truths I’m Believing Today

I Miss Having Parents

Get It Now

So God Made a Mother

Waiting to Be Pregnant

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Farewell My Father: Walking the Trail of Beauty in Old Age

Sometimes Healing Doesn’t Look Like Moving On

Now that You’re Gone, I Sit In This Waiting Room Alone

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

My Parents Will Never See This Face

The Due Date that Never Comes

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

I Lost My Daughter on Mother’s Day: 3 Truths I’m Believing Today

I Miss Having Parents

Previous Post

Next Post

You May Also Like