After having our first baby, friends and family naturally asked, “Are you going to have a second?” I’d usually reply with a vague “We’ll see,” but deep down, I hoped so. Before having Max, I always thought it would be either zero or two or more kids. I imagined either a child-free, married life with ample free time —or a full, bustling family with multiple children.

When I became a mom, I was hit with a wave of emotions—bliss, and a love for Max that’s impossible to put into words. Despite the exhaustion, by the time Max turned one, I wanted to relive the baby stage and give him a sibling.

Infertility sucks.

In 2022, we were fortunate to conceive Max on our first IUI attempt, especially given our infertility factors. At the time, I didn’t fully appreciate how miraculous that was—until we tried again for a second and struggled for months. The longer you struggle, the more it wears on you mentally.

Everyone around you seems to get pregnant again effortlessly, and you start seeing “complete” families everywhere. Honestly, my desire for a second child was stronger than my desire for the first. It’s like trying the best dessert you’ve ever had—you know exactly what you’re missing if you can’t have it again. If you’ve never had it, it’s just a concept. But once you’ve tasted it, the craving is real.

The financial side of infertility

Having a baby is expensive—but trying to conceive when you can’t naturally is even more so. I’m lucky to have excellent insurance through my employer and even luckier to switch plans last November, unlocking more treatment options after using up benefits on my old plan.

With our infertility factors, we needed more treatments than most. I can’t imagine doing this without coverage—so many women go into tens of thousands in debt just for a chance. And even with good coverage, we still paid over $2,000 out of pocket for two cycles. 

IUIs

We began with IUIs, planning to stop if they failed. Between September and December 2024, we did three rounds—each yielding just one mature follicle, despite stronger meds by December. After the third failed attempt, I wasn’t ready to give up. Despite being a poor candidate due to diminished ovarian reserve, we moved forward with IVF. It was an emotional rollercoaster—hopeful yet cautious, knowing the odds were against us.

IVF attempts

Delays from insurance, a skipped cycle, and minor surgery pushed our first IVF cycle to February 2025. The process was overwhelming at first—with detailed instructions and injections—but became manageable once I got into a rhythm.

Most women retrieve 10–20 eggs per cycle, but with my low egg count, doctors expected just 2–4 follicles. I hoped to beat the odds and get at least 5. We did see 5 follicles, retrieved 3 eggs, but only 2 were mature—and unfortunately, neither fertilized. While the retrieval surgery was painless, not making any embryos hurt, even with low expectations.

In late March, I had a quick, painless hysteroscopic polypectomy to remove extra uterine lining and prepare for future transfers. I was cleared for another IVF attempt right after.

For our second IVF cycle in April, we increased the meds, but it backfired—only one follicle grew, so the cycle was canceled. Normally, Doctors advise IUI or timed intercourse, but instead, we got more bad news: the uterine sample from my earlier procedure showed abnormal cell growth. We hit a major setback. I had to pause all fertility treatments and any natural conception. 

Things felt bleak, and Chi and I began to accept that our family might remain just the three of us. The plan was to treat the abnormal cell growth—and, if possible, retrieve and freeze embryos in the meantime. We weren’t giving up. My goal was follow the doctor’s treatment and then fully use my generous insurance benefits, which covered 5–6 egg retrievals and 1–2 transfers. If it still didn’t work, I’d have closure knowing we tried everything and another baby just wasn’t meant to be.

A sudden change of plans

After our canceled IVF cycle, I was told to trigger ovulation on April 7 and avoid unprotected sex due to the abnormal cells—but we didn’t listen. After so many failed IUIs and timed cycles, we didn’t think it would lead to anything.

Two weeks later, on Sunday, April 27, I took a pregnancy test expecting it to be negative. Our doctor had said we could resume egg retrievals once my next period started, so I just wanted to close out the last cycle.

After dipping the stick, I saw the first line appear and looked away, expecting the usual negative result. I didn’t think much of it—there’s always a single control line. But when I glanced back seconds later, I saw a second line. I didn’t realize the first line indicated a positive result—the second was the control line. Wait… Two lines means pregnant, right? I was in total shock. My mind went blank. Could this be real? Did I just get pregnant naturally?

I thought about keeping it a secret to surprise Chi in a more special way, but I couldn’t hold it in. I walked into the dining room holding the test with a shocked but smiling face. He had no idea I took a pregnancy test. “Uh… I think I’m pregnant,” I said. He looked confused, so I showed him the test. “Two lines means pregnant.”

He couldn’t believe it and thought I was joking or imagining things. He said I looked like I’d just won the lottery, which is exactly how I felt. I needed confirmation, so I drank more water and took more tests. All positive —I was pregnant!

Closure… and a surprise miracle

This year, we were ready to pursue every fertility option for closure. We prepared to close the door on having more than two children, to let go of the clothes and toys I’d saved for a sibling, and to plan for a future with just the three of us.

In actuality, this isn’t the ending I expected to write. I had imagined a bittersweet goodbye to the idea of a second child, but instead, I’m writing with a full heart. Against all odds, we got pregnant naturally and were blessed with a miracle—not once but twice—something I never thought possible.