Becoming A Mother

It was just a regular Tuesday morning when my doctor invited me into her office and sat me down. I could sense something was off. She wasn’t her usual chipper self, and the air felt heavy with an impending conversation. She got straight to the point -’’We need to talk’’, she said, and those words are never a good omen.

I don’t really remember much of what followed after she uttered those first few sentences. Everything seemed to blur as she spoke about the slim chances of me ever getting pregnant. I always had a lingering worry that this might be the case for me. You see, I never had a regular menstrual cycle, and deep down, I sensed that it wasn't just a simple quirk but possibly an indication of something more. Still, devastation doesn’t quite capture the depth of what I felt when she pinched her fingers, showing the small space between them as the equivalent of my likelihood of ever getting pregnant. I had walked in for a routine checkup, hoping to have a little talk about my wishes to get pregnant, and left with the weighty confirmation that for me, motherhood might only be a distant dream.

Returning home after the doctor's visit was an emotional experience in itself. I had to find the words to share this heart-wrenching news with my husband. To my relief, he was amazing, providing support throughout our very difficult journey. I had already opened up to him about my fears when we were dating, about the potential difficulties we might face in getting pregnant. His support was unwavering then, and it continued as despite his demanding work schedule, he always tried to accompany me to all my doctors appointments and to the fertility clinic, a drive that would every time take over an hour and a half each way.

Two years passed in a blur of pills, injections, and the emotional rollercoaster of three rounds of IVF. And then, the incredible news finally arrived, it was all worth it, we were going to be parents. Never before had happiness taken on such a profound meaning. But the happiest moment was when I saw my husband, now a very proud and protective papa, pick up our baby boy and gently hand him over to me at the hospital.

All the tough times, the tears, and the moments of doubt just faded away the second I first held my little Sammy. Each time he cracks a smile or lets out a cry, it’s like my heart grows a size bigger. Whether it's getting through sleepless nights or changing stinky diapers, or even hearing his infectious laughter when tickled, every moment reminds me what an incredible gift he is to us. I truly can't wait for more of the crazy, the cuddles and all those firsts. Sammy you turned me into a mom, and I’m loving every single second of it.

Until next time,

Dalia