For more than three years, our lives have revolved around one dream: becoming moms. That dream began long before fertility treatments. As a little girl, I imagined having a family of my own—a family filled with the love and stability I longed for growing up. In April 2023, Jen and I officially began trying to conceive with the help of a close friend who generously became our sperm donor. After months of unsuccessful at-home inseminations, we moved to fertility treatments. Three IUIs ended in heartbreak, and by the end of the year, we had spent thousands of dollars with nothing to show but disappointment. In 2024, we began IVF. Every cycle brought hope, followed by waiting, and then devastating phone calls telling us I wasn't pregnant. We did three transfers this first time and all three were negative. Our second retrieval yielded only six eggs, three fertilized embryos, and two failed transfers. I remember asking my wife, "What did I do wrong?" Even though infertility isn't anyone's fault, I blamed myself for everything I couldn't control. Our third retrieval brought renewed hope. Fifteen eggs were retrieved, seven fertilized, and five embryos made it to blastocyst. It was our best cycle yet. After weeks of injections, medications, and a painful embryo transfer, I finally saw it: another positive pregnancy test. For one weekend, Jen and I allowed ourselves to dream about our future as moms. Then my hCG dropped. I wasn't pregnant anymore. Infertility has changed me in ways I never expected. It has tested my body, my heart, my marriage, and my resilience. But through every failed cycle, every injection, every tear, and every setback, one thing has never changed: Our dream of becoming parents. Our story isn't over, and neither is our hope. Thank you for following along and supporting our journey.