Three years ago, my husband and I found out that I have a translocation, which is a genetic mutation with the majority of my eggs. It leads to recurrent miscarriages or a baby with fatal birth defects.

From the Duggars, to Selena Gomez's mom, it seems as though there has recently been a lot of sad news about pregnancy loss.

It has been said that up to 25% of women will experience at least one miscarriage during their childbearing years. Loss is a difficult thing to deal with at any time, but around the holidays, when it seems like a requirement to be cheery and happy, dealing with loss seems that much harder.

I am protesting the latest pregnancy announced last week by the reality show stars, Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar.

To say that going through a fertility treatment is "a little bit stressful" is like saying the ocean has "a little bit of water!"

Your hormones (both natural and synthetic) are going crazy, your life revolves around doctor appointments and procedures, and your husband is trying to balance being sick with worry with being fully supportive.

In the past three years, my husband and I have suffered four miscarriages. We've also had 28 embryos genetically tested, only to find out that they were not viable. Why? Because I have a translocation, a genetic mutation which causes the vast majority of my eggs to be genetically unsound. This means that if my husband and I want to expand our family, the only options we have left are egg donation, embryo donation and adoption

I have been having such a difficult time writing about my experiences on September 11th. I usually don’t write about something difficult or painful until I have perspective and understanding of the situation. I have realized that no matter how much time will pass, I probably never will understand the events of September 11th. I don’t have any have perspective. All I can think about is the pain and suffering of all of those families who lost loved ones that day.

"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth."
- William W. Purkey

I look at my little girl, who is now three years old, and I can’t help but marvel at how fast time is flying by. My daughter is getting big. She is a very happy and healthy preschooler. She has not a care in the world. My husband and I are lucky that we can provide her with all of her needs.

So it has been way too long since I have last written. Dealing with my endometriosis (including having surgery) has made these past few months very difficult, and at times excruciating. I have spent most of these recent days just trying to keep on my own two feet, and when I had the energy, take care of my little girl.

Not a single breathe from my child’s lungs for granted I do take.

I’m a grateful Mother. My child is a gift.

Her presence here in my life is a everlasting lift.

I prayed to be a Mom each and every day.

I prayed a special soul would be on its’ way.

As months and years passed by without a child for me to love,

Sadness and Anger bruised my heart and I cursed the heavens above.

Holidays and celebrations were colored a dark and gloomy shade.

Even when the sun did shine--there was rain on my parade.