When the ‘I did it’ pregnancy announcement marks the end of a successful infertility struggle
I’m pushing back with a story of disappointment, uncertainty, and triumph that ended with a baby in my heart, not under it.
Big families. Easy pregnancies. Silence in the struggle. Growing up Filipina is a huge part of my identity. But it made my infertility journey even scarier.
By facing tough decisions, IVF crossroads, and other options – I didn’t have anyone to turn to as I was making them.
And no woman should ever feel alone making these decisions. My dream is that women of color can step out from behind the shame of not being able to get pregnant, explore all of their options, speak openly about what they’re going through, and grow their family in a way that works for them.
MY STORY
I always knew I wanted to have a big family
I’m incredibly close to my family. But as close as we were, some things were never discussed. In my Filipino family, having babies wasn’t really discussed. I simply remember watching my aunties have babies, the friends and family members announce they were pregnant. Getting pregnant isn’t hard. We don’t struggle with infertility. At least that’s what I thought. Until it was my turn. I was young. I was ready.
But I could not get pregnant.
YEAR ONE.
LOVE
YEAR TWO.
FAMILY
So when it wasn’t happening, my husband and I looked for answers. We started with him. After testing his sperm, he changed his diet and went off alcohol. Sperm regenerates every 3 months, we’ll be fine.
Doctors were matter of fact about the process, telling us this is all trial and error. But no one prepared me for the ups and downs of getting close then spiraling back to square 1. Medical staff saw it as a process. Meanwhile, I was drowning in the uncertainty.
In my IVF journey, I had no mold for how things were supposed to go. Has anyone in my family been through this? What will they think? Has this never happened to any women in my community before, or are they just not talking about it?
FAILED IVF.
COMPLETLEY SPEECHLESS.
After rounds of IVF, it wasn’t working. I was stuck. Everything was moving so quickly. Disappointment hit me like mini trucks again and again with no sign of stopping. I can’t keep doing this. The medical advice felt cold. Every no didn’t feel like a try again. It felt like this new life wasn’t going to happen for our family.
Deep in the fire. Drowning in information. Until one day, I hit my limit.
OUR ADOPTION JOURNEY.
When it didn’t look like pregnancy was going to happen, I wanted to take a break from IVF which helped give me clarity in re-discovering a dream of adopting.
And now, it felt like the right time to bring it up. My palms were sweaty, approaching my husband. What’s he going to think? I might have to reassess our marriage if he says no. This is really different.
His answer: yeah, let’s do it.
FROM ONE to TWO to TWINS SPEECHLESS.
We adopted internationally for our first 2 babies. Bringing them into our home, creating space for their grief, trauma, and newness taught us that the adoption journey is one for them mostly, with us being there to be their net.
Then, with 2 beautiful babies and a reframe that adoption isn’t another option it’s the route that made me a mom to 2 children that I love f–ing immensely—
But with frozen embryos, we had a decision to make. What do we do? Again, struggling to get pregnant– I had to let the idea of carrying my baby go. I was prepared to love my baby, no matter how they came to me– but holding both feelings at once felt dizzying at times.
We moved into exploring surrogacy. I was ready for 5 babies, my husband was happier at 3– so this would be our last. Our first surrogate pick didn’t work out, making me fearful to try again. I missed the red flags. We vetted so hard. What happened?
But when we matched with our second, that’s when we got the exciting news.
It was 4 am. We were in the Philippines for a wedding. She was getting her first scan as we FaceTimed her with gritty wifi and a few too many drinks in our system. There’s 2. It’s probably a mistake. Can the embryo split?
But it wasn’t. We’re having twins.
A family of 6. A dream of supporting women of color to grow their families creatively.
I used to think pregnancy was easy.
I was scared to tell my family when I wouldn’t be popping out babies like our vast community of women.
I didn’t know a lot about adoption.
I thought I had to keep going through IVF until it worked, even if that meant pushing me past my emotional limits.
I explored surrogacy.
I got creative.
I feared what my family would think.
I’m living in a family of 6.
And now, I want every woman to never feel alone as she navigates these tough decisions and all of the fear, uncertainty, and guilt that comes with them.