With secondary infertility, no one knows your pain

As told to Miriam Bloch

ON the outside, we look like a typical family. Two parents. Four children. But getting there wasn’t easy--and our story isn’t over yet

As told to Miriam Bloch

i’m an average frum mother of four. My days are hectic as much as they are blessed. Both my husband and I work at demanding and fulfilling jobs.

This morning I snapped at my five-year-old to get dressed so she would be ready for carpool on time. I made her cry. Damage-controlled with a quick hug, “Mommy loves you,” and through gritted teeth, a promise that it was Mommy’s turn to do pickup today, and that I’d bring along a treat if she just. Got. Ready.

Then I planted a kiss on my eight-year-old’s cheek and shoved him through the door just as his bus was about to drive off.

My one-and-a-half-year-old twins needed me. The house was upside down. Work awaited me. All I wanted was to get everyone out the door so I could focus on starting my day and getting to work.

Sound familiar?

I love my kids. I lose my temper sometimes. My home is hectic often. Like I said, I’m just your typical mother.

Except… what is typical anyway?

I started out typical enough, I guess. I grew up in a close-knit community in the Tristate area as one of five siblings, a “small” family, it felt to me, relative to many of my friends who came from families of ten, eleven, twelve. The sibling above me was a boy, four years my senior, and the one below me was a girl, five years younger. I was lonely a lot of the time. I couldn’t wait for the day to get married and have a “normal” family of my own, with children close in age and close in spirit.

When the time came, my wedding was every bit as beautiful and jubilant as I’d hoped. I was filled with swirling dreams of little girls and boys populating my home and my life.

When I was just four weeks married, I awoke one morning with terrible nausea. I was sure I was expecting. Despite how lousy I felt, I ran to buy a home test. It was negative, and I was crestfallen. It was just a 24-hour stomach bug. But that first rise and fall, that rapid change from hope to disappointment, would turn out to be a microcosm of the emotions I’d experience over the next several years.