They got tired of keeping it all in. So when people asked, the truth came out. No more dodging questions, no more forced smiles. If someone joked about not having kids, the answer was honest: it wasn’t for lack of trying, and advice wasn’t needed.
After the miscarriage last year, they stopped working on the nursery. The door to that room stayed shut. Instead, they turned to the outdoors. Built a patio. Planted a garden. Grew closer in the process.
Winter came, and they found warmth in fixing up a different room. Four years of struggle, of waiting. Now, eight weeks pregnant—cautiously hopeful this is the moment they’ve been waiting for.
The advice? Keep going. Something good is bound to grow. And find something to build together—it makes everything a little lighter.