I’m 39, and I thought I’d already made it through the hardest parts of my life.
Years of trying, waiting, and hearing nothing but silence while everyone else seemed to move forward. I learned how to carry the years of infertility without letting it show.
Then we adopted Lily.
I thought I’d already made it through.
Lily was a wide-eyed, quiet baby when we brought her home. The first time I held her, something settled in me, as if a space I didn’t even realize was still empty had finally filled, making me whole. Evan, my husband, cried that day.
I remember thinking we were starting over.