For many years, I lived what I thought was a free and exciting life. I was young, beautiful, and moving from one relationship to another without thinking about the future. I felt unstoppable. But deep down, I knew I was making dangerous choices.
The biggest regret of my life came from the abortions I did in my early twenties. At that time, I told myself I was too young to become a mother. Today, those decisions haunt me.
When I got married at 27, everything changed. My husband—a calm, loving man from Kazo—wanted a family. I wanted the same. But month after month, nothing happened. Years passed, and still no pregnancy.
Every time I saw a pregnant woman, my heart broke. I would remember the children I willingly gave up, and guilt consumed me. I cried silently at night. I acted strong during the day, but inside, I was falling apart.
My husband’s relatives also began to mock me quietly. They never said it directly, but their actions spoke loudly.
By the fourth year of trying, I had already visited hospitals, fertility clinics, and spent a lot of money on tests. Doctors told me everything looked normal, yet I still could not conceive. Thirteen years passed, and motherhood still felt far away.
I almost gave up.TO READ FULL DETAILS, TAP HERE.