The Grief I Didn’t Expect
For a long time, infertility didn’t affect me the way people warned me it would. I don’t say that lightly, and I don’t say it with pride, more with surprise. I had prepared myself for bitterness, jealousy, resentment… and instead, I felt peace. Real peace. I was able to celebrate pregnancy announcements genuinely. I could watch videos, double-tap photos, send congratulations without that familiar knot in my chest everyone talks about. And honestly? I was grateful for that version of me. I had reached a place where my heart was anchored in gratitude instead of timelines. My husband was finally healthy again, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. He was happy. We were healing. We were laughing. We were rebuilding joy after a season that had taken a lot out of both of us. And I meant it when I told God, “This is enough for now.” I truly believed I had learned how to wait well. Until recently. Then something happened that dismantled the peace I had been standing on....
