I have wanted to be a mom for pretty much my whole adult life. While my infertility didn’t really affect me when I was younger, it greatly affects me now. The cause of my infertility is being diagnosed with Turner’s syndrome. I have known since middle school that I can’t have kids naturally (even with IVF). I would need a uterine transplant, or to adopt.

Knowing this, I have always sought out opportunities to be around and work with kids. It fills a huge void knowing I can make a difference in the lives of children, and I have worked on and off at childcare facilities throughout my career. So, when my heart sister and roommate, Tanecia, came to me for support during her pregnancy, preparing for, and future raising of her daughter, Kayla, I was admittedly sad for me but ecstatic for her.

This was a learning experience for both of us. While she valued my knowledge and experience, at times we did disagree on some things regarding what was best for Kayla. It is so hard because I view Kayla as my own daughter. While I do want and hope for kids of my own, I have a hard time shaking the feeling that, because of my infertility, she is the closest I’ll ever have. Adoption is an expensive, difficult, and time-consuming process, as is surgery. Due to the full spinal fusion surgery I previously had, additional surgery (although my preferred method) carries greater health risks. With all this in mind, having a child just seems so out of reach for me.

It is hard to take a step back, trust Tanecia’s instincts and choices as a mother because of my feelings. I do know, though, that it is crucial that I take a step back for Tanecia’s growth as a mother and for her bond with Kayla. When I offer my advice, I always try to make sure I let her know how great of a mother she is and that I trust her instincts above all else. I typically do this by reminding her of one of my favorite quotes from my own mother, “My uterus trumps your medical degree.” My mom said this to my endocrinologist when he didn’t want to test me for Turner’s syndrome, which, as you know, I was indeed diagnosed with.

Remembering this helps me to trust that instinct that mothers have over my own.

In observing Tanecia learn, I also realized some things, especially developmental milestones, that she didn’t get when I verbally explained them. (Like how babies will regress a bit when they are about to hit a milestone.) She had to see it herself to really get what I was trying to explain. It was so good to see her really get it and know that if it didn’t seem like she really got it at first, she would later.

There was learning on my end too, which I didn’t expect. I had thought I had seen it all in my days as an infant caretaker, but I learned that taking care of a special needs child is a completely different animal. It can be hard to see a child not meet milestones when they are “supposed to." There is also a lot of blaming the mother when the full story isn’t known, which needs to stop.

With this in mind, I feel I have gotten much better at making sure when giving advice or suggestions that if Tanecia still wants me to do something different, I do what she says. At home with Kayla’s care, we have an agreement that if she asks me to help or is away, I do it. However, if Tanecia is close and doesn’t ask, I don’t help without first asking if she would like me to. Currently, little Kayla is seven months old, and I couldn’t be happier with the relationship I have with her and Tanecia, as well as getting to be her bonus mom.