We found a great doctor and an amazing specialist who promised to help, who promised a healthy baby, a promise I knew they couldn’t keep. After going in several times to do genetic testing, they found nothing wrong with either my husband or me. But I knew it was me; I just didn’t know why. My mother, from what I recall, had a lot of issues with fertility. She suffered a miscarriage at 4 months, shortly before she became pregnant with me. It wasn’t until recently that she admitted to receiving medical help in getting pregnant with me. My mother is old school—she comes from a time and place where her “women’s issues” were taboo subjects. She’s been reluctant to discuss them with me, even when she knows the knowledge could be beneficial to us, and she’s only now starting to break her silence.
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