Why I’m Telling My Story (And Why You Might Need to Hear It)

Let me start by saying this: I was the girl who dreamed of being a mom. The one who stared at pregnant bellies a little too long. The one who cried when her period came. Who walked through the baby aisles dreaming of the day that I would actually buy baby clothes. Who counted baby bumps and tracked ovulation apps like the stock market. Who went to baby showers smiling on the outside and dying on the inside.

Infertility is grief on repeat. Every month another “no.” Another loss. Another invisible wound you’re expected to carry quietly. I didn’t choose to be a single mom. I chose not to wait. I chose motherhood over maybes. I chose joy over fear. And I chose to believe that love…real, gut-wrenching, soul-healing love, could be created, even if it didn’t come wrapped in a relationship.

I didn’t always know I’d take the scenic route to becoming a mom. For years, I held on to the vision that many of us do: meet the right guy, fall in love, get married, and then announce a pregnancy with a cute onesie that says “Coming Soon” .What I did not envision? Me, alone, whispering prayers between fertility appointments while wondering if I was crazy.

Like many women, I waited. I waited for “the one.” I waited for stability. I waited for everything to look just right. But the baby fairy? She ghosted me. And at some point, I had to ask myself: Why am I waiting and looking for a man/partner to give me the life that I want?

When my journey toward motherhood started looking less like a romantic comedy and more like a solo mission fueled by hormone injections, prayer, and a very detailed spreadsheet, I knew life had taken a sharp left turn. Instead of a fairytale proposal, I found myself navigating fertility specialists, syringes, and awkward sperm donor catalogs (yes, that’s real and yes, they list hobbies like “surfing”). Life didn’t include a husband or someone to split the fertility bills with. (Rude.)

Somewhere between appointments and unanswered prayers, I realized something: this wasn’t the story I planned but, it was the story I was meant to tell. And while the path looked nothing like I imagined, it gave me clarity, courage, and a calling to become a mom anyway.

Something in me refused to give up. A small but mighty voice kept saying, “Become a mom anyway.” So I did. I stepped out. I leaned on God, science, and stubborn hope. And I did the thing many wouldn’t dare to do alone: I became a mother. I stepped out and said yes to becoming a mother…alone, on purpose, and with full trust that God wouldn’t lead me here without also sustaining me here. I learned that stepping into motherhood alone didn’t mean I was missing something, it meant I was listening to something bigger than fear.

This blog is my way of reaching back with a flashlight for the next woman walking the path I was on. The woman who’s googling fertility acronyms at 2 a.m., juggling hope and heartbreak, and wondering if it’s too late or too crazy, to do this alone. Here’s the spoiler: you’re not crazy. You’re courageous. And you’re not alone.

I’m here to share my journey—the funny parts, the confusing parts (ever tried to understand your AMH level before coffee?), and yes, the divine moments that reminded me that God’s timing is still perfect... even if He cuts it a little close. Whether you’re just starting to think about this path or already knee-deep in fertility treatments, my prayer is that this space gives you hope, clarity, and a few laugh-snorts along the way.