I sent a tweet the other day. You know, just some run-of-the-mill, pro-motherhood comment to protest the confirmation of a conservative, female judge.

I figured no one would notice. That it would get lost in Twitter-land.

Then I got an email. From someone claiming to represent GLAMOUR MAGAZINE.

Hi Ginny, I’m reaching out because I’m a writer for Glamour, working on a story about surrogacy. I read your tweet responding to the nomination of Sara Pitlyk (she’s since been confirmed), and I was wondering if you would be willing to share a few words about your perspective for my article. Let me know if you have any thoughts you’d feel comfortable sharing.

OMG. Is this legit?

I texted everyone I knew before responding. Because I didn’t want to GET EXCITED over nothing if it was indeed nothing.

I stalked her a bit online and then, OF COURSE, I SAID, “LET’S DO THIS!”

And now my little family’s story is floating around in the Conde Nast world. And I repeat: OMG.

Here’s a link to the lovely article: No, Using a Surrogate Doesn’t ‘Diminish Respect for Motherhood’. Which features several other incredibly inspiring couples and highlights the medical, mental health, and ethical struggles we all wrestled with to become parents.

As a side note, the hardest part about this whole thing was deciding on the family picture for the article. In this world of Insta-perfection, I agonized over whether or not to do a professional photo shoot and slather myself in make up. Just joking. Kinda. In the end I chose a picture of us hiking. Because what’s more “normal” than the natural world to showcase the “normality” that is my IVF-blessed family?

And here’s the full interview. Because online articles can only be so long.

How did you decide to do IVF?

(Editor’s note: To answer this first question, I leaned heavily on my first blog post that I wrote about infertility: Miracle baby turned TWO.)

We tried for SIX YEARS to get pregnant. The doctors called it “unexplained infertility.” They told us I might be allergic to my husband’s sperm. They told us we might be incompatible.

We tried lots of things to conceive “naturally.” I filled calendars with notations, charting my cycle for months. The doctors tested me for endometriosis. Then they prescribed Clomid, which apparently thins the lining of the uterus so the fertilized egg can implant. Mine was already thin, so there was definitely no need for more of that.

Then we went the Intrauterine Insemination route. I lost count after the fourth IUI. It was Russian roulette where the doctor tells you how many eggs are available that month so you can HAVE TRIPLETS MAYBE. And then you stab yourself in the stomach with a really long needle because you are willing to HAVE TRIPLETS MAYBE.

The doctors told us IVF was the next step. And it was our saving grace. We put the truck up for collateral and took out a loan at the bank to pay for our dreams. It worked on the first try. I can’t even describe what it was like when we saw that heartbeat on the ultrasound at 6 weeks. It was miraculous.

And the best part is that IVF reset my body. It taught it how to create life. We conceived our second child naturally. Without IVF, there’d be no Miracle Baby #1. Without Miracle Baby #1, there’d be no Miracle Baby #2. What a thing of love we’d miss. Our two amazing boys.

One of the claims against IVF is that it can be dangerous for the mother, and even that it’s unnatural? Can you address that?

The part about IVF that actually concerned me was the COST. These other things never phased me. When we finally committed to IVF, we worked with a nationally-recognized, fertility specialist and put our trust in him and his team. I opened my heart and eyes and walked towards POSSIBILITY. It was an experience of hope and anticipation, not one of doubt. Because in the end, it would work or it wouldn’t. And I’d be fine either way.

Danger to the mother never crossed my mind. Because, hell, pregnancy can be risky. I wanted a child, and I would survive whatever test came my way to protect that baby – just as all mothers have done throughout the millennia.

I did have a relative question our decision due to religious beliefs. All this did was make me dig in my heels: “Ok, then join me in praying to God that this works.” Because this will be a WANTED child, a cherished child, a prized child. A child of God.

How would your life be different without IVF?

Hm, this is an interesting question, one that I’m sure all parents ponder. Especially when your newborn refuses to sleep through the night, or you’re forced to forgo “movie night” at the pool because YOUR KID’S bedtime is 2 hours before dark, or you’re squaring off against a small man-tyrant over a quarter inch of cookie.

When I do this “choose your own adventure” exercise, I envision annual trips to Europe, weekly wine nights with my besties, and jetting off to visit college friends at the drop of a hat. If you come from a place of greater privilege and are braver than me, perhaps all this is possible with kiddos in tow.

That said, IVF has brought me several things. Most importantly, two lovely boys and the chance to be a mother, to guide these children through the obstacles of life and to experience innocent wonder through their eyes.

A secondary gift IVF has brought me is the chance to connect with other women. Infertility impacts so many of us and it’s rarely discussed. It used to be this thing of shame. Where women weep because they’re barren. A vessel unfilled. I was silent during our struggle, diving into that shame: what’s wrong with me that I don’t deserve this one thing women are made to do?

But I’ve since begun to tell my story proudly, to be vulnerable about the heartbreak I experienced. It’s amazing how many women tell me, “Thank you.” Somehow I’ve emerged as part of the movement to normalize infertility and its pain. There’s tremendous joy and peace and connection in the sharing of stories. We are not alone.

So go on now, tell your story! You never know who’s listening and who you’ll inspire. Maybe even Glamour magazine.

Share your thoughts below or on Facebook at MothersRest.

Photo credit: Alicia Petresc on Unsplash