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We’ve been trying to conceive for three and a half years now. I’m now in my later 30’s and I never thought I would be here, didn’t imagine this would be my story. It’s taken years to accept where I am, to rewrite my fertility story and to actively surrender to where I am.

Trying to conceive at first was hot passionate lets-make-a-baby sex, full of heart racing excitement and anticipation. I believed that it would happen immediately and was shocked after the first few months when the mild breast tenderness was actually PMS and not early signs of pregnancy. 

A pang of worry came creeping in but I could shrug it off when I started to look into it. “this is normal” I would tell myself. One thing led to another. A chain of tests, doctors, practitioners, herbalists, bodyworkers, specialists and soooo much research. All of which I will get into in more detail later on. As of right now I’m in the mysterious “unexplained infertility” category. 

I’m a lifelong learner and practitioner of natural medicines but I also see the importance of western medicine and have had my own life saving experience with surgery and antibiotics. I believe there is a time and place for both. So far, this fertility journey has been a dance between the two. 

I am also a stepmom of two teenagers. It is a blessing to be a bonus mom to these beautiful children but it is also surfaces a deep pain of mothering without being a mom, of caretaking children while desperately trying to have one of my own. Being thrown into the deep end of parenting teens is a challenge I never imagined for myself. I’ve been in their lives for about 5 years now. Being a bonus mom while trying (and failing) at becoming a bio mom is excruciating. It generates rage, resentment, grief, jealously and comparison. I love these kids and at this point I can’t imagine my life without them and the feelings there are deep and complicated. Step-momming and infertility are intricately interwoven into my personal journey. 

I’m starting this blog as a sort of online diary. Unedited and unfiltered. It feels vulnerable and exciting to reach out into the great abyss and share some of the most gutted hurt I’ve ever gone through. I’m not on the other side of this. I don’t have a sweet little hero’s journey success story bundled up in my lap in the form of a baby. I’m right in the middle, fighting demons, braving the underworld. I want to be honest and real because there is so much silence and isolation in this process with a real lack of general education about infertility. But this is only my story, my experience, my feelings. I cannot speak for anyone else. 

Thank you for reading my story. If you are also on your own fertility path know you are not alone. There is a silent sisterhood around the world bearing this with you.

“Why do the things i used to love doing feel so bland and meaningless now?” is a question i often find myself asking. Am i depressed? do i just need to force myself to do them knowing they will bring me joy again? do i need different activties in my life? But time and again my list of hobbies remains the same, so what has changed?

Where I really want to be is home; home with my baby. I want early mornings and slow days. I want to be waist high in laundry and elbow deep in dishes. I want to be sleep deprived and delirious. I want to feel your tiny fingers wrap around mine and to smell your soft velvet head. I want to be trapped under your tiny body because you fell asleep on top of me and I don’t dare wake you up. I want sore, cracked nipples because I am feeding you from my body. I want to see rolls and stretch marks when I look in the mirror because I made you in my body. I want to grow and bend and break and be turned inside out because I am transforming into your mother.

So when I am out for coffee with a friend, in a yoga class or going for a hike I am just day dreaming of a time that does not yet exist. With a despondent heart I am always thinking of you, everything else feels bland compared to the yearning of you.