I have always been an open book. Most of the time that honesty has been a gift—though there were moments it backfired. Still, I’m grateful I was upfront during the years we struggled with infertility and miscarriage.
We wouldn’t have survived those years without the connections that formed when I spoke up. Infertility is something you really don’t understand until you live it (and my deepest hope is that you never have to). From the outside you can observe parts of it, but being in that club—one no one wants to join—changes everything. Statistically it’s common (about 1 in 8 couples), but that doesn’t make it easier.
Our story took an unexpected turn the moment we moved from fertility treatments to adoption. Suddenly I stopped sharing. It wasn’t secrecy so much as the nature of adoption itself: much of it can be private. Once our path included another person—someone we met who was considering placing her child with us—the details became delicate. Telling the story required care.
