“Have you thought about adopting or fostering?"
Written by Emily Rask
The question I loathe whenever people found out that I was losing pregnancies, and especially after I lost my final pregnancy in March of 2025. After dealing with infertility for years, that question had run through my mind on more than multiple occasions and it was part of my Roman Empire.
My husband and I had been trying to get pregnant. I was in my later 30's, which doctors lovingly reminded me would be a geriatric pregnancy and high risk on a constant basis. I was also not in the best of health as we were still very much basking in the dark glow of covid. I confidently knew I was going to get pregnant because I come from a massive family where all of my siblings had kids, so I knew it was going to be easy. Well, turns out my fertility wasn't the only problem. See, my husband is a firefighter and because of the chemicals, heat and other factors related to the job, it lowered his fertility, and on top of that, because of the sleep habits that come with being a firefighter, he needed to be on testosterone as well, which is actually pretty common, but ultimately made him sterile.
We went to our first clinic, got diagnosed with PCOS and were put on some meds to help regulate my cycle. Nothing happened so we went to our second clinic, where they suggested IVF but knew that $25k was a large chunk of change to swallow in one beat and still carried under a 50% possibility of getting pregnant. We went with 4 IUIs and were ecstatic that I got pregnant with the fourth one. While we were still celebrating weeks later we got the news that my HCG had gone down, and that was the moment that changed every other pregnancy after. We couldn't celebrate getting pregnant for fear that loss would soon follow, and it did, with ten babies total. We went to our third and final clinic to do IVF in Arizona because they gave a discount to first responders, which in hindsight meant we spent over $50k traveling and on procedures to try and get pregnant in only a few years. In November of 2024, I lost another pregnancy of twins on my 40th birthday and I have never felt darkness like I did following that loss. I decided to do the last transfer once my body was ready, and in March of 2025 I lost my final pregnancy and our journey was done. And as if that wasn't enough, the cherry on top came in May when I found out I would have 30 days before my position would be dissolved, and my world crashed down. I had a literal identity crisis as I was no longer going to be a mom and no longer had my job. WHO WAS I?
And while I was trying to figure that out, the advice was already coming. Have you thought about fostering or adopting? Of course I had. I have 7 foster brothers and sisters and they were all adopted, so of course I had thought of it and still am, but when our journey ended I needed to be selfish and get my happy back. When the grief was at its loudest I reached for anything that would quiet it, food mostly, anything that could manufacture a few seconds of feeling okay. I didn't realize at the time how much I was just trying to survive myself. In April of 2025 I decided the room that was meant for a baby, that had held nothing but sadness and donation clothing and stayed closed, needed to be made into something that made me smile again, so I started a podcast. It sounds simple when I write it like that but it wasn't, because that room needed to mean something other than what it had become. I hired a coach who specialized in women's health and had been through IVF herself, which meant I didn't have to explain why I was a different person every few weeks depending on what the medications were doing to my body, and she got it, which mattered more than I can say. Lies We Bought was born and I took the summer off, really focusing on my health both mental and physical, before diving into the podcast. I launched my first episode in November of 2025 and what I didn't expect was how much each episode would give me a piece of myself back that I thought was gone for good. Now that I am six months in I can tell you that while I still cry and am still sad that it's a desk with a microphone and not a crib, I am proud of myself and what I have been able to overcome and accomplish within the same year of the most devastating loss of my life.
I know who I am now in a way I didn't before. I'm a wife, I'm a good friend, I'm someone who loves learning and refuses to stop growing, and I used to believe my worth lived in my job title and in the role I was supposed to step into. I know now that it lives in me and in what I do with the time I have, and when I sit down at that desk and put on my headphones I don't think the version of me from March 2025 could have imagined it, but she would be proud and I genuinely believe that.
And to anyone who has ever asked the fostering or adopting question, I don't think you meant harm because I think it is a knee-jerk reaction from people who want to fix pain and don't always know how to just sit in it with you. But when you are inside a loss like this, that question feels the way I imagine it would feel to walk up to a grieving widow and ask when she plans to start dating again. It doesn't land as a solution, it lands as a reminder of everything that is gone.
These past six plus years have been the hardest of my life, and while I was going through it I never thought there would be any hope on the other side. But I am here to tell you that while it is still very much a part of who I am and I think about it on a daily basis, and I would have loved nothing more than a different outcome, I am finally back to the Emily that I love.
If this is your story too, I see you. You are not alone in the quiet.
About the Author
Emily Rask is the creator and host of “Lies We Bought”, a podcast that explores the stories, slogans, and cultural narratives that shape how we think. A longtime marketer and digital strategist, she has spent nearly a decade helping brands connect with audiences through storytelling, content, and social media. After years of infertility, pregnancy loss, and grief, Emily found herself searching for a way back to joy and a version of herself that existed beyond fertility treatments and heartbreak. What began as a creative outlet became Lies We Bought, a podcast dedicated to curiosity, culture, and the stories hiding in plain sight. Today, Emily combines her professional marketing experience with a love of research and storytelling to create conversations that are thoughtful, entertaining, and deeply human.
