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  • Nikki Cagle


We became quite the dodgers over the years—professional dodgers even. Finding new excuses, coming up with our newest reason of the week—of the month—it became sort of a game. Sometimes we would lie so much that I would start to believe it. I think some of you caught on after a while because you stopped asking. Thanks for that—dodging gets exhausting. It started out truthful, I promise. Then slowly but surely the truth got harder, so the lies started to pile up. The more we found out, the more we lied. So much so that it was hard to keep track of who we had lied to and what lie we used that time. I should have kept a list. It all started with the basic, instinctual question that you ask all married couples. "When are you guys going to have a baby?" The answer was almost always, "Oh, I don't know - we're on the five year plan!" We were young! We had plenty of time. No rush. Do you know how fast five years flies?! Fast, ya'll. Especially when you are having a blast, seeing the world, working your butts off, drinking your livers off, and We were soon faced with our five year commitment. We started to consider making our first truth a reality. That's when the lies started. They were our own doing and denial at first...but then they became forced. It was out of our hands. We didn't want to lie - but we couldn't bear telling everyone the truth. Friends of ours that were ready to start a family said, "After you go to Paris, let's get pregnant together!" Lie: "Yes! Let's!" Truth: We weren't quite ready—we were having the time of our lives, just the two of us. In hindsight, I wish we would have started then. Then we would be a year ahead of this process - this never-ending process. Everyone and their mother {including ours} would ask any chance they got, "When are you guys going to have a baby?!" Lie: After the year of "Yes!" We're going to do a whole year of flying by the seat of our pants, saying "Yes!" to everything, while we can. Truth: An excuse to keep us from having to commit to trying. I was terrified—what if I got pregnant right away?! Of course, I wouldn't have, and again, I wish I would have started then. Friends of ours announce their pregnancy and of course the question follows, "Do you guys think you'll get pregnant soon?" Truth: I hope so! We just went off birth control, so whenever it happens, it happens! This actually was the truth at the time. I feel like that's the last time we even remotely told the truth. That's when the forced lies started... "Five years is totally up, and then some - so, babies soon??" Lie: Yes, yes, soon - we're working on it! Truth: "Working on it" was an understatement. "Working on it" would mean that we were tracking ovulation, taking temperatures, and holding our breath to see whether Aunt Flo would rear her ugly head, or not. In reality, we were starting the emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting road through infertility treatments. MRI's, blood tests, sperm tests, tests that made me literally scream at the top of my lungs {HSG, aka, this is what labor must feel like, right?!}, and the eventual diagnosis of: inconclusive. My state of fertility was inconclusive. No rhyme, reason or understanding as to why I couldn't get pregnant—just the knowledge that I, in fact, could not naturally conceive. Looking back, realizing that I couldn't naturally conceive isn't even a notch on pain's belt—the real pain, roadblocks, heartache, letdowns, dreams crashing—that hadn't even begun. Sounds dramatic, right? Well, it was - it is. And for anyone who can go through years of failed infertility treatments with their head forever held high is either the strongest person on earth - or the best damn liar. We became a mix of both—putting on faces when we needed to, and lying when faces failed us. Those select few who knew what we were going through would delicately ask, "So, how's it going...?" Lie: It's going! We're in the middle of a cycle, so we'll see. Truth: Our go-to answer was that we were always in the middle of a cycle. It was just easier that way to ensure that no one would be waiting on the hook for a positive or negative result. No sense in everyone being on edge, right? Sometimes I wish I would have been more truthful and taken some of the weight of my shoulders, off my hubby's shoulders. That man shouldered every thought, feeling and emotion I had, without blinking an eye. Then, one Friday afternoon in the Summer, while sitting at our kitchen table, the phone rang - and we thought all our lies were behind us. The blissful truth we'd been waiting for: we were pregnant. I wish I could say that's our happily-ever-after, but I'm guessing you, too, are wondering how that could be - because where's the bump, the announcement, the baby? A mere four weeks later, our lies returned. Only, this time I was broken beyond repair, and barely had the strength to speak - let alone, lie. Miscarriage is a...ya know, I don't know that there's a description for it. I'm just left shaking my head at the thought of it. Nonetheless, it's another topic in itself - and one that I will touch on, when I'm ready. All this heavy-loaded-blog-talk to say - we've been leading a second life. One that not many saw, but one that many many others also live. You'd be shocked to find out how many people go through infertility treatments, once you're going through it yourself. So, why come forward now? Two reasons—one of which is to pay it forward, if even just the slightest. I spent countless nights, afternoons, weekends, holidays—months, really—reading and rereading infertility and miscarriage blogs. Despite the fact that my husband was a ROCK, and my family and friends were endlessly and sensitively supportive, there is no one who will understand what it's like to go through this - unless they are also shooting up, getting blood work done 3-5 times a week, being poked, prodded, studied, tested and growing more hopeless by the day. I promised myself that when I was ready, I would pay it forward. I used to wish and wish for someone who was going through this to "accidentally" find out so they could coach me through. So, if by reading my blog you can find some solace, or find yourself nodding along, or even find the strength to reach out - then I've done my job. And, even though sometimes others' success stories would be hurtful, I still have to say it - stay HOPEFUL, stay FOCUSED, keep your eye on the PRIZE, stick TOGETHER, and never ever ever stop searching for SILVER LININGS... My second reason for sharing...go ahead, ask. I know you're dying to...

"Are you pregnant?"

Truth: Yes <3

Our pregnancy announcement video by Erin Michelle Photography!!

{That I still can't get through without crying}


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