If infertility has taught me anything, it’s that I am not in control. Of anything. Ever. And just when I start to think I am in control, I get knocked back to down to size.
This is one of those stories.
My husband and I had been talking about maybe, sort of, possibly, looking into trying for a second baby. Our embryo storage bill was looming in the next few months, serving as a big, expensive reminder that our future babies were there, just waiting for us.
“I’m just not ready,” I kept thinking.
“But it’s time,” a voice in my head kept responding. Continue Reading