I struggled with whether or not to get real and share my life behind the lens, for infertility was never how I wanted to define my identity to the world.

I struggled with whether or not to get real and share my life behind the lens, for infertility was never how I wanted to define my identity to the world. I had a loving husband, supportive family, health, happiness, success (damn, my life was almost as perfect as my Instagram feed). Needless to say, I had tons to be grateful for so over a year of trying to conceive shouldn’t be a big deal to me. My tear-filled episodes spent lying on the bathroom floor over negative pregnancy tests were nothing to the thousands of couples suffering 3, 5, 10 years of infertility. How dare I compare my ache to theirs?

After five rounds of Clomid, a couple invasive tests, and finally a diagnosis of endometriosis, I did IVF expecting to get pregnant and move forward. Not that simple. It was tough. And not talking about it made it tougher. When I finally opened up about our journey, what a change. We made our second attempt at IVF and finally, an embryo stuck. Wait, make that two. Twins! Infertility is such a taboo topic and its only now I can say that going through it alone prior to sharing was much more painful than the hundreds of shots which brought me to my miracle babies. I’d take those in a heartbeat verse the pain of enduring infertility in that dark silence I felt before. For those of you struggling in this hardship, know you are not alone. However he/she comes into this world, your baby has a birth date, you just don’t know it yet.