The One Word I Never Wanted to be Associated With-

It is one of the worst 'clubs' to be a part of, but I've met some of the best people from it.

[Vulnerable post ahead, and a heads up: this may be triggering for those experiencing infertility.]

Summer is FLYING by! Last night, my husband Nick and I were reflecting on the dichotomy between last summer and this one. I don’t often share about our infertility journey, but I want to here, to give some context.

For the past two years, we’ve been working with a fertility center on our path to parenthood. Honestly? It was a hellish experience. I had great support from my work (the irony of being the Marketing Director for an infertility nonprofit while receiving my own diagnosis wasn’t lost on me). But for Nick and I, it was constant battles.

Our mantra during IVF

By last August, we made it to IVF, it went surprisingly easy, and ended up with three embryos. Soon after though, we learned that none were viable for transfer. Each carried missing chromosomes that would result in miscarriage.

We were absolutely devastated.

Nick was at work for the conference call with the doctor when we found out. We quickly got off the phone and I remember two things specifically coming out of my mouth- First, I screamed at God, "Why?? Why did you give me hope?" Second, after Nick got home and we had a long cry, I quietly said, "I never want to hear the word 'infertility' again." [Which was not easy to do when I was still handling my job at the nonprofit through all of this.]

We stepped away from treatments for several months, and in that space, a lot changed. I helped close the nonprofit at the end of the year. I started going back to the gym four times a week. My PCOS thrives with weight training, it just took a while to find the right gym where I didn’t have to wrestle machines away from bros, lol. Nick and I made a commitment to focus on our health, mental, physical, and spiritual.

Life still has its difficulties, but this year feels... different.

What’s carried me through hasn’t been grit alone. It’s the foundation Nick and I share: communication, compassion, support, and plenty of humor. We’ve had to find ways to laugh, even when nothing about this journey feels funny. That’s been our lifeline.

(Another silly moment that I made to help us get through last year's IVF cycle)

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That support also gave me the space to focus on I Before E. By officially putting it out into the world this January, I finally gave myself permission to build something I’m passionate about, on my timeline, in my way. Running a business is still freaking hard. The stress hasn’t vanished, BUT- now it fuels me instead of draining me. And for the first time in a long time, I’ve been able to prioritize my health and reconnect with my body, as I've learned to trust it again.

Through it all, one mantra has carried us: one step at a time. That actually came from Nick. He and I have taken turns thinking that our infertility process would be simple: A, B, C. Instead, it has turned into over 3 1/2 years of going through A to Z and back again. That’s been our entire journey: plans constantly shifting, timelines collapsing, and us learning to move forward without a clear map. We literally can’t plan ahead. So we take it one step at a time. And despite my deep-rooted need to plan ahead and prep for best and worst case scenarios, taking one step while unable to see that path has been the best lesson for me.

So, here is what I hope you'll take from this post: Sometimes the best, and only way, forward is through a single step at a time.

If your hard thing looks different, whether it’s health, family, work, or something else entirely, I hope you know you’re not walking it alone. Struggles don’t make us weaker. They make us stronger, more compassionate, more able to hold space for others. And if nothing else, they give us the chance to laugh at the absurdity of life together.

One step at a time, my friends. We’ll get there.

And if you need a silly mantra made for whatever your journey looks like, give me a shout.