I have always wanted to be a mom, but as I grew up, I was OK with waiting for this point of my life to come. My husband was ready to have kids the moment we got married, but I wasn’t on that boat yet. I wanted it to be just me and him for a while. Plus, I wasn’t completely naive. I knew having a baby is wonderful and fulfilling, but is also a huge challenge – a challenge I was waiting to put on the back burner for a while. I wanted to travel together, go on spontaneous weekend adventures, sleep in until 11 a.m., stay up late, adopt pets and spoil them rotten, and just be young newlyweds for a while. And we did just that.
I wasn’t sure when the urge to have a baby would happen. But it did. After a trip to the Outer Banks with my parents and my sister’s little family in the fall of 2014, I was ready for Brett and I to take that leap into parenthood. I was mistaken for my niece’s mom while walking on the beach with her, and I felt no desire to correct that person. If anything, it made my heart swell and made me want to be someone’s mom. I was ready to stop waiting and to begin the next chapter of our lives as parents.
But at this time last year, I wasn’t quite sure I would ever get to celebrate Mother’s Day as a mom. I’m not a person who has a lot of patience. When I want something, I will do whatever it takes to make it happen. When things weren’t moving along the way I had hoped, I was told by my doctor to wait. Even though I was more than ready, my body was a few steps behind. I had to wait and hopefully it would catch up. That left me frustrated. And mad. And pretty darn sad.
About a month after Mother’s Day, my doctor decided I had waited long enough and had me do some blood tests. Soon after, she told me I had polycystic ovarian syndrome. While being diagnosed with PCOS was scary, I finally felt at peace. There was a name for it, and we had a plan of action. I didn’t know what to expect, but I heard promising stories from several women I know that had happy endings. So maybe it would take us a little longer; that just meant more time for Brett and I to enjoy time as just us. At least that’s how I was trying to look at it. I still had many moments of anger, fear, worry and sadness, and I didn’t want to wait anymore. I worried that I would never know what it’s like to be a mom, or worst of all, my husband, who so desired to be a dad, would never get that experience. I know that no matter what, he would always love me and I could never let him down. Yet, I prayed that one day I would see this man become a father. He deserved that more than anyone I know. More waiting would be involved, but we knew it would be worth it. We began our journey to what we would hope be a happy outcome. Little did we know, that outcome would be here sooner than we expected. The exact same month I began taking medicine to help us start a family, Brett and I found out we were expecting a baby. In February 2016, the wait – that wasn’t so long after all – was over. Brett and I became parents to our precious baby boy.
As I look into his beautiful face every morning, I know I was meant to wait for him. As I see my husband transform into this tender, caring, teddy bear of a father, I know he was meant to be this particular boy’s dad. I know I didn’t have to wait long, but I’m thankful now for that period of waiting. Sure, at the time it was frustrating and annoying and crappy, but without it, I wouldn’t have Oliver. I would wait a million lifetimes to have the chance to be this boy’s mom.