Our Fertility Journey: A Timeline of Hope + Healing

Honest. Raw. Still in it. Still believing. One day at a time.

I didn’t even know National Infertility Awareness Week existed—until this year.

When I saw it mentioned for the first time, something in me stopped. I had no idea there was a whole week dedicated to acknowledging what I’d been quietly navigating, grieving, and surviving for nearly a year. And in that moment, I knew I had to share my story.

Not because it’s finished. Not because it’s pretty. But because it’s real. Because I wish I had seen more stories like mine when this all began. And because if sharing this brings even one other woman comfort or courage or the feeling that she’s not alone—then it’s worth every vulnerable word.

Infertility wasn’t supposed to be part of my story. After our honeymoon, when my period didn’t come, I let myself hope. Maybe we were one of the lucky ones. Maybe it had just… happened.

But those quiet hopes quickly unraveled. Blood tests showed my AMH levels were dropping sharply, and I was officially diagnosed as infertile. I was losing the idea of what it even meant to be a woman. I had barely processed those words when I was sent for my first procedure—a hysterosalpingogram (HSG).

The results were far from simple. Tumors were discovered in my uterus, prompting more testing. An SIS procedure confirmed the presence of multiple fibroids, and suddenly our journey was no longer just about conception—it was about healing my body from the inside out.

I began a regimen of supplements. Changed my diet. Focused on exercise and wellness in a way I never had before—not for aesthetics, but to create space for life. Still, surgery was inevitable. A myomectomy removed the fibroids, and I spent the next few months recovering.

The emotional healing was often harder than the physical. Infertility doesn’t just affect your body—it affects your identity, your self-esteem, your joy. It makes you question your worth, even when you know better.

Through all of it, my husband has been my anchor. He hasn’t missed a single appointment—sitting beside me for every test, every procedure, every moment of waiting. He’s taken this just as seriously as I have, adjusting his diet, taking supplements, changing his lifestyle. Not because anyone asked him to—but because that’s who he is. We are walking this path together, hand in hand, and his unwavering love has been one of the few constants in a year full of unknowns.

When I was finally cleared to move forward, we joined a fertility clinic. Tests, labs, scans, and second opinions filled our days. We were told we could begin IUI or IVF. It felt like a green light… until our doctor became unavailable. Once again, we waited.

But the wait led us to Ceibo Fertility Center, led by the incredible Dr. Sueldo—a team that held space for both the medical and emotional weight of this process. It was the first time I felt truly seen and educated on the subject.

Before treatment began, a new SIS revealed another fibroid. I was given two options: surgery, followed by another six-month delay—or continue with treatment and risk complications. I chose to move forward; despite the pain and issues I could personally suffer. I chose strength.

We began our first IUI cycle. It failed due to an adverse reaction to the medication. The second one did too. This time, we discovered the fertility medications caused numerous ovarian cysts to develop, forcing yet another delay. And now, we wait again—for my body to regulate, for a new cycle, for a new chance.

This past year has been the hardest of my life. It has been filled with procedures, appointments, tears, and moments of silent devastation. But it has also been filled with resilience, love, and the kind of strength I didn’t know I had.

Infertility is not just a medical condition—it’s a lifelong shift in perspective. It’s a reminder that life doesn’t always unfold the way you imagined, but that doesn’t make your story any less worthy.

To anyone else navigating this path—whether you’ve just started or have been in it for years—I want you to know: you are not broken. You are not alone. And you are so much braver than you think.

Thank you to my husband—my partner in everything—for never letting me carry this alone.

And to my friends and loved ones who continue to check in, encourage, and hold space for me—you are my heart.

Mom—thank you for showing me every day what strength and unconditional love look like. I hope I get to become a mother as amazing as you one day soon.

And to my BELLA family—thank you for your constant support and grace, especially on the days I haven’t been at my best.

Here’s how you can be part of NIAW:

Wear Orange this week to spark conversations and show your support.
Speak up – share your story, repost educational content, or talk to someone about fertility.
Get educated – learn how infertility impacts both men and women equally.
Book a check-up – fertility evaluations aren’t just for when you're ready to start trying. Early knowledge = more options.

- Dr. Sueldo, Ceibo Fertility Center