*A personal paragraph about my fertility journey. I dont really have anyone to share with so I hope some of you can relate*

When my now husband and I first started our fertility journey in November 2019, the first thing I told him was "don't get your hopes up, I don't know if I can even get pregnant". Little did I know it would be me who got my hopes up. See, I knew it would be hard, but deep down I thought if I just tried hard enough it would happen. Three years of ovulation testing, get-pregnant-quick vitamins, two week waits, and every 'trick' in the book yet here I am staring infertility and a possible PCOS diagnosis in the face. No one ever told me how much it would hurt staring at a negative pregnancy test month after month. No one told me how addicting taking hcg tests would be, because in those 3-5 minutes it takes for that test to process, there's hope. No one told me how much hope would hurt. How bitter it would be knowing that no matter how much you beg and plead for it to happen, it just doesn't. Sex loses its passion and becomes strategic and empty. You cant help but feel guilt day in and day out for not being able to give your husband the one thing you should be able to give him, a child. Three years worth of unhelpful consolations and uneducated advice. Three years I've had to listen to "it'll happen when it's meant to" and "just stop trying so hard", none of them understanding what it means to battle infertility. With all this said, I know I'll be okay. I'll never lose the hope of bringing my child into this world, but some days it weighs a little heavier. Some days I'm just sad. And thats okay.