We recently found out we’ll be moving in the fall of 2017 instead of the summer of 2018 and that changes so much for us in so many aspects of our life.

That move means I won’t have my first baby with the nurses and doctors FRIENDS who have supported me through more than 2 years of infertility. The people who have been there through 5 miscarriages, 3 failed clomid cycles, a failed IUI, and months of disgusting progesterone suppositories. The people who have drawn my blood a countless number of times and covered for me while I ran downstairs for ultrasounds. The people who have squeezed me in for appointments. The people who have answered question after question after question. The people who have put up with my stress and worrying and ridiculousness. The people I trust more than anyone to get me pregnant and deliver my baby. The people who have dreamed with me. The people who have cried with me. The people who continually support me and always cheer me on. The people who want this for Daniel and I almost as much as we want it for ourselves.

These people who I love and trust and call my friends…they won’t be there when we have our first baby. They won’t be there to hold and snuggle and love on our baby. They won’t be there when our fertility struggles cease and our dreams come true and it breaks my heart.