A common complaint I hear from my female friends is about their parents pushing them to have kids. That was never me. My parents knew I’d have problems with fertility since I survived cancer at the age of six. The doctors weren’t even sure if my reproductive system would ever turn on at all.
Instead of “when you’re a mother”, it was more or less “if you do have kids”. My parents hoped I could have children if I wanted them, but feared setting my expectations too high. After all, it wasn’t my fault if I couldn’t.
There was a sigh of relief among my parents and doctors when my reproductive system turned on at age 12 and worked perfectly through my early twenties. It seemed like maybe I’d defeat the odds.
Sadly, the odds caught up to me by my mid-twenties.