Finding joy during infertility has been one of the hardest lessons of my life. Sometimes I feel like I skipped right over the newlywed phase of life.
I went from the stress of engagement, wedding planning, buying a home, and building a life together… straight into infertility.
The first year of marriage felt lighter because we weren’t expecting to face this journey. We were just enjoying being married, settling into our home, and learning what life looked like as husband and wife. We were making memories, creating routines, and figuring out what our life together looked like.
But if I’m being honest, I think a part of me has always carried the fear of not becoming a mom.
Being a mom is something I have wanted for as long as I can remember. It has always been a dream of mine, and the thought of it not happening has been one of my biggest fears. When something you have wanted your entire life suddenly feels uncertain, it can be really hard not to let that fear take over.
How Infertility Changed My Newlywed Years
Now, almost two years into marriage, I feel like I have spent so much of our time together focused on trying to have a baby.
Tracking cycles. Scheduling appointments. Getting bloodwork. Taking medications. Analyzing every symptom. Letting the outcome of each month determine my emotions.
Infertility has a way of making you feel like your life is constantly waiting for the next thing. Waiting for ovulation. Waiting for appointments. Waiting for test results. Waiting for the month where everything finally works.
And then there were the hormones.
After six months on Letrozole, I started to feel like I wasn’t even fully myself. The medication was supposed to help us get closer to our dream, but it also brought along emotions that felt overwhelming.
I found myself feeling anxious, depressed, and unlike the person I normally am. I started wondering: Is this really me, or is this the medication affecting me?
The answer was probably a little bit of both.
Finding Joy During Infertility Without Losing Myself
Through all of this, I realized something important: I don’t want to miss this season of my life.
I don’t want to look back and realize I spent all of my newlywed years waiting for the next chapter to begin. Because this chapter matters too.
Finding joy during infertility doesn’t mean pretending that everything is easy. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have hard days or that I don’t deeply desire to become a mom.
It means learning that two things can exist at the same time.
I can pray for a baby and still be grateful for the life I have today.
I can feel sadness about infertility and still find moments of happiness.
I can want the next chapter while appreciating the one I’m currently living.
Right now, I get to love my husband without sharing his attention with little ones. I get to enjoy spontaneous plans, quiet mornings, date nights, and having all of his love and attention.
There is something really special about this stage of life, even if it isn’t the stage I expected to be in.
Why We Decided to Take a Break From Trying
That realization is part of why we decided to take a break from trying for a little while.
There were a few reasons behind this decision.
First, after being on Letrozole for six months, I wanted to give myself time to figure out where my emotions were coming from and allow my body and mind to reset.
Second, summer was getting busy, and I knew I didn’t have the capacity for the constant appointments that come with fertility treatments like IUI.
Between monitoring appointments, bloodwork, and trying to plan life around a fertility schedule, it started to feel like infertility was taking over every part of our lives.
And honestly? I just wanted to enjoy life for a little bit.
I wanted to stop carrying this heavy thing every single day. I wanted to laugh more, make memories with my husband, spend time with family and friends, and remember that my life is still beautiful right now.
Learning to Love This Season of Life
Taking a break doesn’t mean I have given up on becoming a mom.
It doesn’t mean I don’t want that dream anymore.
It just means I am choosing to take care of myself and appreciate the life I have while I wait for the one I hope is coming.
Infertility has a way of making you feel like life is on pause. Like you can’t fully celebrate, fully relax, or fully move forward until you get the thing you’ve been praying for.
But I’m learning that life isn’t on pause.
This season is still my life.
There are still memories to make. There are still moments to enjoy. There are still ways to grow, love, and become the person God created me to be.
I don’t want infertility to steal the years I have with my husband. I don’t want to miss the joy that exists right in front of me because I am only focused on what I am waiting for.
Finding joy during infertility is something I am still learning. Some days are easier than others. There will still be moments of disappointment, questions, and uncertainty.
But I am choosing to believe that this season has meaning too.
My story is still being written.
And for now, I want to learn to love this chapter.
