My husband and I, after almost three and a half years of marriage and combatting my personal medical anxiety, started trying for a baby in March of 2025.

Fifteen months later, our spare bedrooms remain empty.

We haven’t received a single positive test.

And, in all honesty, it’s been hard to not give up hope that we ever will.

Author note: If infertility is a triggering subject for you, please don’t feel obligated to read this post if you frequently read posts here on Authoring Arrowheads. My goal through this post is to be honest and discuss some of the thoughts I’ve had surrounding infertility in hopes that it will help others who are experiencing it, but I know it can be difficult due to how heavy the topic is. Please know that if you’re currently going through infertility, I’m praying for you. ❤

The Constant Loop of “This is the Month” Only to Get Another “Nope”

Every month, for the past fifteen months, part of me has convinced myself I’m pregnant. I’ve experienced so many “symptoms” that have ended up being my monthly reminder that I’m anything but.

The constant loop of wearing my heart on my sleeve only to watch my hopes crash and burn each month has worn my heart out.

Google tells me that, for our ages, we reached the infertile mark three months back.

I know God can move at any time. I know He can breathe life into my womb.

But when? And why is He allowing us such heartbreak month after month?

And so, we try again, and again, only to get the same results.

It’s made for some excruciating mental health days; I’ll tell you that.

I’ve Never Seen More Pregnant Women in my Life

Ever since my husband and I started trying for our own child, I have never in my life encountered more pregnant women on a daily basis.

Friends. Coworkers. Cousins. People at church. Acquaintances. My younger sister. People on social media.

We’ve watched other couples’ full pregnancies play out. My niece should arrive any second now.

Because of this influx, I’ve withdrawn from social media even more than I had last year.

I’ve mastered faking a smile when someone shows me baby pictures.

I considered skipping church on Mother’s Day.

It’s hard to watch from the sidelines.

Everyone but Us is an Expert

Whenever I’ve mentioned our struggle, so many people have tried to convince me that they’re doctors without degrees.

While they were able to conceive in their late teens or early twenties with no issue, they have no qualms about messaging me with “advice” on how to “fix” our fertility.

Never mind that my husband has two autoimmune diseases.

Never mind that we have already decided we don’t want to pursue IVF. (Side note: We think it’s a viable option for other couples; it’s just something we don’t want to pursue for ourselves).

Never mind that they never had to take the health advice they’re shoving down our throats.

Never mind that we’ve never asked a soul for advice to begin with.

I understand that people who offer advice like this think they’re being helpful. They may have the best of intentions. But please know that this advice rarely, if ever, lands as intended. Behind every couple nodding along with a shaky smile or every response of “yeah I’ve heard of that method”, those two are going home, shaking their heads, and venting to one another about how tone-deaf people can be.

Please don’t be this person. Unless the couple has told you, you don’t know their specific circumstances nor what they’ve already tried. Being told by others, out of the blue, how to “fix” infertility can make the couple experiencing it feel like it’s their fault they haven’t conceived.

How Much Longer?

Both my husband and I are in our early thirties. In my neck of the woods, we would’ve been considered “older” new parents if we had gotten pregnant as soon as we got married almost five years ago.

Now I’m a few years away from having a “geriatric” pregnancy. If we’re ever able to receive that positive test.

Besides, by this point, the majority of what I’ve read online affirms the odds get slimmer from here.

I had hoped when we started trying that our baby and my cousin’s would be close in age. Now their kid’s almost 2.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give our nieces cousins.

So many other, morbid, questions have plagued my thoughts that I don’t even want to share here.

Time’s slipping away. We have no control over the outcome. God holds time in His hands and I know He can work at any time.

But again, when?

Maybe We’re Not Meant to Get Pregnant Because of My Medical Anxiety

All my life, I’ve been squeamish. I hate going to the doctor. My heartrate skyrockets every time they check my vitals and I’m made to feel stupid because of it, even though it’s because of white coat syndrome. It’s fine on any other day.

So many times throughout my life, even by people close to me, I’ve been told “well you don’t need to have a baby then” if this is how I react to anything heath related.

For the first three years of our marriage, I was terrified of getting pregnant for this reason. I had to do a lot of internal work and relying on God to get the courage to even start trying for a baby.

Now I can’t help but wonder if God isn’t allowing me to get pregnant because He knows I won’t be able to physically handle it, or if the devil is using these thoughts to further convince me I’m not meant to carry a baby.

Should We Adopt or Foster?

The only positive thing out of this whole experience is we’re thinking more about the possibility of adopting or fostering children.

Children in need have always held special places in our hearts. We know others who have pursued this route. But there are challenges with this as well.

Adoption is expensive, but so is giving birth in a hospital. It takes special individuals to be able to properly love and care for adopted or foster children, and sometimes I wonder if we’d be able to provide the love and care their specific circumstances need to thrive.

The last thing I want is for us to adopt or foster and the kid(s) grow up to hate us. That same fear occurs with having children who carry our DNA too though.

But I’d rather risk these what ifs and find out for myself than never be able to raise a child at all.

Raising children is a mission field. One I know God can lead us in if it’s what He wants for us.

And we’ll have to continue praying about that and see if He is leading us there.

Talk to Me, Arrowheads!

If you’re also on this journey, I’m sorry. While I don’t know what specific circumstances you are going through personally, please know that I see your pain, I see your hope behind the tears you’ve shed, and I’m praying things will get better for you.

If you don’t mind sharing, if you’re on this journey, what’s something that has helped you get through the hard days?

Aim high, stay strong, and always hit your mark.

-Allyson