Whew. If you’re reading this, baby girl is here. From the very beginning of this pregnancy it has been scary, unpredictable and most days my anxiety was debilitating. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen. I kept expressing these feelings, my entire pregnancy. I was blown off several times..even with my history. I made several trips to the hospital and 3 OBGYN changes to feel the most confident in the care me and my baby would receive. Ultrasounds were never exciting for me. Each ultrasound I held my breath waiting to be told my baby was no longer alive. I protected my heart for 33 weeks waiting for the “worst” to happen. From the week of my first positive pregnancy test I felt awful. Constantly dizzy and/or passing out. Around 20 weeks I really put my guard up. I kept telling my doctor how low she felt and that I didn’t trust my body. He agreed she was low but there was no evidence on her coming early. Each week I felt more uncomfortable but kept pushing with less and less faith. There’s no way to sugar coat it, the pregnancy was hard both physically and mentally. Fast forward to April 1st… I hadn’t felt Zoey move for hours. My gut told me something was off. I kept saying she wasn’t moving like she does and people kept reassuring me that everything was fine and babies don’t move as much towards the end. The morning of April 7th I took Gracie to a dentist appointments and few errands before my first NST with my doctor after the reduced fetal movement. I was hooked up to the monitor and shortly after was told they wanted to do an ultrasound. My doctor reassured me my baby was still breathing and come back in a few days for my next NST. I left my doctors office at 2:30pm. I stopped at my moms for a bit after and was going back and forth on going to target for a few more Easter basket goodies. At 5:30pm I ran to the bathroom and I heard and felt a POP. I yelled from the bathroom “I think I need to go get checked, I’m pretty sure my water just broke.” My mom must have asked me 15 times if I was sure, lol. I proceeded to leak all over her kitchen, I’m on the phone with one of my best friends, I go out to the car with hand towels between my legs, FedEx is outside, the neighbors are out, everyone has ring cameras, Gracie was in a bike ride and the dog got out… it really was pure chaos lol. I got to the hospital around 5:45 maybe closer to 6, checked into triage and was sure I was going to be one of those people that peed my pants and thought my water broke. They had me sit down while I checked in and as soon as I stood

Whew. I’m 1-2 weeks out from starting STIMS. Each day that passes I get a little more nervous and anxious. It’s hard trusting a body that has failed you time and time again. It’s hard trusting a doctor that actually does care after several that haven’t. It’s hard to trust a process that isn’t guaranteed to work. I’m struggling with lots of mixed emotions this week. As I sit in the parking lot of my clinic I’m a ball of nerves and let me tell ya… Google isn’t helping. I’ve been trying to educate myself and ask all the questions I can to feel the most at peace with each decision I make. One thing I love about my doctor is even if I don’t go with her recommendation and want more testing for my own sanity, she doesn’t make me feel bad about it. Nothing about this journey is easy. I’m at a constant battle with my brain trying to quiet all the negative thoughts. PTSD is a bitch. But for now, I’ll hang on to the hope that is keeping me going, wait for my nurses call on next steps and hope my body is doing what it’s supposed to. I’m trying to turn those doubts and negative thoughts into “what if it DOES work out?” It’s hard to change your mindset when your experiences have shown you the worst. I’m grateful to have so many people supporting me on this journey and helping me get through it. I’m just so ready to be on the other side of infertility. 💛

Infertility is hard. As a woman you feel like something has been stolen from you. Your body has failed you from what it’s meant to do. The life you’ve pictured since you were a little girl seems to have been pulled right out from underneath you. At least for me, this is what it’s felt like. For the last 5 years I have yet to sustain a healthy pregnancy. Loss after loss I kept more and more to myself. I didn’t reach out for help when I desperately needed it. I was hiding everything behind a smile and my famous, “I’ll be fine.” But I wasn’t fine. I’m not “fine.” I’m struggling. I’ve seen several doctors over the past 5 years that have yet to figure out why my body has not been able to carry a baby. As awful as it sounds I’ve lost count on how many losses I’ve had. Each loss I detached more and more and haven’t allowed myself to get “attached.” See, I do that a lot. Detach myself from anything that could potentially hurt me. Instead of feeling all my feelings I internalize everything and don’t truly feel them. This is something I’m working on. I’m working on allowing people to be there for me more and not do everything alone. It’s extremely uncomfortable for me. Sharing this part of me is extremely uncomfortable. But my goal is that any woman going through this shitty part of life can feel less alone. My most recent OBGYN has been the most helpful in my journey. She was the first doctor that wanted to truly help me. She said we were going to figure this out. I was hopeful because she was so confident. Test after test, medication after medication, injection after injection.. nothing was working. My last appointment she seemed less confident she could figure “this” out. She mentioned IVF and a referral to a fertility specialist. I wanted to puke. I sat in that room fighting back tears with so many thoughts going through my head. The cost, time, dedication, mental toll it would take on me. The fact that no matter how much you spend, it’s not guaranteed. I told her I would think about it and we scheduled my next appointment 3 months out. I spoke with a couple of my close friends… going back and forth if this is where I quit. My friend Sara said to me.. “when you’re 50, is this something you will regret not trying?” I let that question marinate for a few days and it hit me. I will 100% regret not trying at least once. I’m still not sure how I’m going to do it or the judgement I’ll get doing this alone but I’m ready to go ALL in. So I scheduled my consultation with an IVF clinic for mid May and although I’m scared as hell.. I’m excited. Holding on to hope. This is MY journey and MY life and I have to be the one happy with it. So if you’re on the journey solo as well, cheers to you girl. You’re a badass.