Support groups, community healing, and shared grief once terrified me. I was deeply cynical about group spaces and afraid of “drinking the Kool-Aid,” so for most of my life, I stayed away. I tried joining…
View PostI didn’t begin journaling to process infertility grief. In the early days, it wasn’t even on my radar. I was still debating whether to foster again, still hoping a different agency might open a door…
View PostI’ve always hated the word “failure”. It’s sharp. Final. Heavy. And as a former IVF woman and a perfectionist, I hate it even more. For years, my life revolved around cycles, medications, numbers, hope. When…
View PostIn October 2024, I wrote my first post on this blog called “My Dirty Little Secret—Exposed.” It was the first time I admitted, publicly, what I had been hiding for so long: my story of…
View PostI used to think midlife would look different. I thought there’d be kids. A family. A rhythm to my days that followed school schedules and bedtime routines. But instead, I’m here—childfree not by choice, trying…
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