As I sit here celebrating my very first Mother’s Day, I can’t help but reflect on the emotional rollercoaster that brought us to this moment.

My daughter is not only a rainbow baby, but a true miracle from God. Because of the severity of my endometriosis, a history of endometriomas, uterine fibroids, and multiple surgeries, I was told I had only a 2% chance of naturally conceiving. IVF was said to be my only option.

As my husband and I discussed it all, I struggled deeply. I feared I might be playing God. He wasn’t opposed to IVF, he was supportive and willing to do whatever I needed, but he kept gently reminding me that we had to trust in God. He didn’t feel like our journey with Him was over yet.

My gynecologist prescribed progesterone in preparation for our upcoming fertility treatments. Before starting the pills, I was instructed to take a pregnancy test. I took it without thinking much of it and left it on the bathroom sink, convinced it would be negative. Forty-five minutes later, I returned to throw it away, and there it was: a faint second line.

I surprised my husband with the result, and we cried tears of joy. But the very next day, I began to miscarry. I still don’t fully understand why I had to see that second line, why I had to know, only to experience that heartbreak. We decided to move forward with the fertility clinic. Appointments were made. The process would start in about two months.

Then, a month later, came a night I’ll never forget. I broke down crying to my husband. I told him I didn’t want to try naturally again, I couldn’t. The pain of another loss felt unbearable. The fertility clinic offered control, a plan, maybe even protection. Once again, he reminded me: trust in God.

The very next day, while working from home, I felt this overwhelming urge to take a pregnancy test. It was too soon, I wasn’t even due for my period yet, but the feeling was so strong. I was alone, and thought, “Well, no one will know how crazy I am.” So I took the test.

And there it was again: a faint second line.

This time, I was happy but terrified. When we finally saw our baby at 8 weeks during our first OB visit, we felt the tiniest bit of peace. We weren’t risk-free, but we had made it further than before. Maybe, just maybe, this was our miracle.

And she absolutely is.

Today, I feel overwhelmingly grateful for this beautiful baby girl. I know every parent feels that deep sense of love and blessing, and while none of us are perfect, I want to be the best mother I can be for her. For me, that starts with being informed, because knowledge is power, especially when raising a child.

To those who have experienced loss, I’ve been there. I grieve with you.
To those still waiting for their miracle, I’ve been there, too. Trust God.
To the stepmothers holding space in a different way, cheers to us.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mamas, in every form!