Graduation day


Friday is Graduation Day! AKA, the day that I “graduate” officially from my fertility clinic to my regular OBGYN’s office.

This is the moment that I’ve been waiting for: the day that I get to go forth into the world with a “normal”, healthy, second trimester pregnancy. There’s just one problem, though; I don’t feel normal. Nothing about the past two years has felt normal.

Truth be told, I’m equal parts excited, scared, and sad to leave my clinic. I’ve been with the same doctor, making weekly or more visits to the same office, seeing the same friendly faces since June of last year.  I’ve laughed with them, cried with them, felt at home with them. The thought of not being under their care leaves me feeling a little…. lost.

I’ve also been blessed with a doctor that practices under the guise of “abundance of caution”, and has been calling me in for weekly ultrasounds to check on our little one. Some might call that overkill (which it probably is), but it has been an absolutely amazing experience to see her growing and changing week by week. Not to mention the assurance I feel when each week, we’ve seen and heart a strong heartbeat, and on more than one occasion, seen her wriggling around like the dance queen I am sure she will be outside of the womb. Once I officially transition to my OB, I will receive only two more ultrasounds: the full anatomy scan at 20 weeks, and a secondary scan at 22 weeks to check for heart defects. And that’s it. Definitely a far cry from the weekly peeks we’ve been getting to see what’s going on in there.

So far, I’ve avoided the trap of getting a home doppler to check on the babe’s heartbeat, since I knew it would probably just drive me more crazy if I wasn’t able to find it. But now that our graduation day is fast approaching, I am already dreading the weeks and months that go by without seeing my little one moving and grooving in my tummy. Thankfully, in a few weeks I’ll be feeling her move a lot, and likely will rue the day I wished for strong, soccer star kicks to know she’s A-okay.

Despite my fears, I am so incredibly grateful that we’ve made it this far. I am almost 14 weeks with our little babe, thanks to God, our doctors, and the miracles of modern science. Our baby girl is just over three inches long. She has tiny fingers with fingernails and fingerprints, is swallowing, and is starting to gently tap her mama’s belly with her little limbs to say hello. And that is, in this moment, the biggest gift of all.

April Fool’s

By now, I’m sure you’ve seen it at least once. Apparently, it is really hilarious to prank friends and family by posting a “pregnancy announcement”. Even celebrities are getting in on the trend:

Here’s the thing, though: the funny fake pregnancy announcement isn’t really all that funny. In fact, it’s a punch in the gut to the one in eight of us who are suffering with infertility, and an even worse blow to those who have suffered from pregnancy loss.

Even now, going on eleven weeks into my pregnancy, it’s still a little jarring to see someone else’s pregnancy announcement. Weird? Maybe. But it’s the truth. The act of getting pregnant isn’t like waving a magic wand; the pain of infertility still weighs on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. It’s getting lighter, day by day, but there is a part of me that knows it will always be there. And I’m one of the lucky ones. In six or seven months, God willing, we’ll meet our little girl on the other side of my belly and all will be well (except the lack of sleep and total upheaval of our lives, of course). But the feeling is still very fresh in my mind. To feel like it will never happen for you. To feel like every other post on Facebook and Instagram is a photo of a happy toddler, a growing baby bump, or an ultrasound photo.

You may think that your pregnancy prank is silly, and lighthearted, and wonder, “What’s the big deal?” All I ask is that you think before you post, and hopefully take my words to heart. Do it for others like me, who are speaking up, but even more importantly, do it for the ones who are suffering silently, unwilling or unable to share the brokenness that they feel.

If you’re really hurting for ideas this year, feel free to check out this list for some solid pranks. My personal fave is the extension that swaps out every photo on the internet for a photo of Nicolas Cage. You’re welcome.


Is this real life?

A few days ago, curiosity got the better of me about those “pregnancy pillows” everyone keeps talking about. Until recently, I had no idea that it was virtually a requirement when pregnant to sleep with a pillow that engulfs your entire body and takes up half of your bed. Bonus: it also doubles as a stand-in for an actual human snuggled under the covers, and may or may not scare you when entering your own bedroom. (I have no real-life experience with this.)

Feeling the beginnings of pregnancy aches and pains during sleep, I figured I’d give this whole Snoogle thing a shot, so I headed to my local Buy Buy Baby store, aka Baby Mecca. Buy Buy Baby sells literally ALL THE THINGS baby related; I’ve gotten the spins from just looking at all the hundreds of car seats, strollers, cribs, etc. Did you know that there are actually multiple devices to choose from that involve sucking the snot out of your baby’s nose? Buy Buy Baby sells them all. Pretty sure I could get completely lost in the car seat section and an employee would find me, come closing time, sobbing in the aisle cross-legged, wailing, “HOW DO YOU CHOOOOOOSE??”. But I digress.

So I pull into the parking lot of Buy Buy Baby, and I’m met with the Holy Grail of infertiles: the Expectant Mother Parking Spot. You know, the one with the sign that looks like this:

I froze. Wait, that’s me!, I thought. But doubt crept in almost immediately. That spot isn’t for you. Are you supposed to be here? You’re not pregnant enough to park there.

You see, friends, that’s the cruel reality of infertility. It clouds your reality, makes you think that somehow you are less than, that you aren’t deserving, that none of this was meant for you. I have to remind myself on a daily basis that that is a lie.

So I parked in that goddamn spot, and relished in the twenty less steps it took for me to get to the front door. And I dragged that giant pillow out to my car and slept with it that night, and IT WAS GLORIOUS.


Baby girl


Baby girl –

I had this magnetic pull, even before you were growing inside of me, this nagging feeling that you were a precious little girl. Last night, we found out that my intuition was true.

I have been crying tears of grateful joy all morning, tears interrupted by laughter. I am in just so much disbelief that this is my life, that I get to carry you, that your dad and I get to raise you and watch you grow. I wonder who will you turn out to be? I hope big hopes for you, I dream big dreams for you. I pray big prayers for you.

When your grandpa found out, he said he hopes you turn out to be just like me. If that ends up being true, little one, you will be impulsive, and emotional, a little silly, and you will sometimes feel the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it will be hard. And I, my dear, will have my hands full. But my heart will be full, too.

Baby girl, your daddy said this morning that he has something big to look forward to – walking you down the aisle someday. We have big hopes and dreams for you, my dear; that you know you are loved beyond measure, and you find someone in your life to love just as much as we love you already.

Baby girl, we cannot WAIT to meet you.

Women’s day

Today, my body is growing a little brain.

A little brain, inside a little body, with little arms and legs, and a little heart with a fluttering heartbeat, strong and fast.

Today, I celebrate my body’s incredible ability to create human life. It is a gift I’ve been given, as a woman. To grow life. To nurture. To create.

Today, I am not more or less of a woman than I was before this little life was inside of me. I will not be more or less of a woman if I choose to breastfeed my child or if I am unable to. I am not more of a woman because I want to bear a child. I am not less of a woman because I had difficulty doing so.

Today, let us remember that we as women are strong not despite of, but because of our softness, our ability to empathize, our desire to love. We can be both feminine and feminists. We can choose our own paths, grow independently as well as grow together, and fight for the future we want without compromise.

Today, my body is growing a brain. A brain that will, one day very soon, grow up in this big, beautiful, broken world. I pray that I will have the strength to teach him or her about what is right and what is true, through my words, but more importantly through my actions. Not just for me or my child, but for all the amazing, strong, beautiful women out there, paving their own way.

Today is International Women’s Day.

Coming soon

Well, friends, hopefully by now you guessed it: I’m pregnant! (Wow, it still feels weird to say that.) Our little BB8 decided to stick around for a while and will make his/her arrival on or near October 18th. Best birthday gift ever.

It’s been almost four weeks since I found out I was pregnant, and I am still having a hard time believing that it’s all real. Keeping me sane and grounded are the daily reminders of the woozy motion-sick waves of nausea, feeling like eating everything and nothing at the same time, needing to take regular naps, and the transition to maternity jeans. These are things that I hoped and prayed for over many months, and I do not take any of it for granted. But seriously, kid, I would’ve liked to be able to fit in my favorite jeans for just a few more weeks!

All joking aside, I couldn’t be more grateful. I am well aware that there are many, many men and women out there who are still on their journey to growing a family, with lots of heartache, difficulty and medical bills (or adoption fees, or surrogacy fees), and know that we are so incredibly fortunate to be where we are today. To have the resources to be able to go down the path of IVF to grow our family, to have the support of a village of family and friends behind us, and to have our embryo transfer work the first time – despite our own struggles, we know it will all be worth it. And I want to acknowledge you, dear reader, if you are still hurting. I know and understand that ache, and my heart hurts for you. It is still very real for me, even in this moment, and it’s not something that will ever leave. After this little one is born, I will be, at times, painfully aware of the sacrifice and struggle that was made to bring us the gift of life.

Ok, now on to the fun stuff! Forgive me while I indulge in a bit of storytelling – I’ve decided that I’ve earned it.

I had decided that I would wait until one week after my embryo transfer to test; I had seen other women online talk about getting positives as early as 4 or 5 days post-transfer, but I didn’t want to get my hopes dashed if I took a test too early. I waited until Dale went off to work in the morning and I had some breakfast, but couldn’t wait any longer. After taking upwards of several dozen pregnancy tests over the past almost two years, I had a plan in my head that I wouldn’t look at the test until after I brushed my teeth to give the test the requisite three minutes to develop. Well, that plan royally failed; as I was walking out of the bathroom, I immediately saw a faint second line start to develop.

I. Was. Floored.

No, literally. I basically fell to the floor and started sobbing. I could not believe what my eyes were seeing! After so many times of willing a second line to appear, it was like my eyes were deceiving me. I had to keep checking the test to make sure it was real.

Photo taken roughly five minutes after I tested. Note that I am still on the floor in shock; probably didn’t stand up for like a half hour.
Yup, pregnant.










Later that day, I surprised Dale after he got home from his day with this setup:

Three days later, I went in for my first beta test, which is the blood test for pregnancy, checking for the levels of HCG, the pregnancy hormone, in the bloodstream. Anything above 50 is a good sign that the pregnancy is viable; we were lucky enough to get a result of 350. But even more important is the number doubling every 48-72 hours, which is a better indicator of viability and not an early miscarriage or chemical pregnancy. My second and third betas were 750 and 2210, respectively, and first ultrasound was a few days later, at roughly five weeks pregnant.

Some of you might be wondering why I would go in so early for an ultrasound; most women won’t get seen by their OB until they are 8 or so weeks along, sometimes even later. My doctor treats all of her patients as high-risk pregnancies, so she gives weekly ultrasounds and monitoring throughout the first trimester. I would much rather have more check ins than less, and it’s been really fun to see the changes in little BB8 already in the span of just three weeks! Check it out:

5 weeks – just a gestational sac
6 weeks – little blob
7 weeks – more baby than blob









At our first ultrasound, the pregnancy was confirmed, but you can’t really see anything at that point other than a gestational sac. My doctor promised me that it would get more exciting as the weeks go on. I was happy to see the sac, but also still anxious for future ultrasounds, since we weren’t really 100% sure there was a microscopic baby hanging out in there. Our second ultrasound, as promised, was definitely more exciting. A little blob! With a little heartbeat! Although it was a bit anticlimactic for me in the moment; my doctor had me hold my breath so she could listen for and measure the heartbeat. It didn’t fully register with me until afterwards that we had heard a heartbeat! And our most recent ultrasound at seven weeks showed the most excitement yet. A little head, a little body, with little arm and leg buds, and a strong heartbeat of 127 bpm.

Holy crap. I’m really pregnant!

Bump watch is officially on! As of this weekend, I can no longer button my jeans. I thought I was jumping the gun buying a spare pair of maternity jeans “just in case” a couple weeks ago at Target; now I’m grateful I have at least one pair of pants to wear that aren’t Lularoe leggings. Also, I promise not to spam you all with too many bump pics or ultrasound photos; this is the obligatory oversharing post and I promise to get back to less annoying content shortly.

If you’re following me because you relate to my infertility story, I’m glad you’re here, and I hope my story gives you hope. I also hope you’ll stick around, but I understand if you feel the need to step away. I’ll be continually blogging about infertility but also about my pregnancy off and on, so if you’d like to stay connected but don’t want to read my preggo posts, I totally get it.

To be fully honest, that nagging feeling that infertility has given me hasn’t gone away. A positive pregnancy test isn’t a magical pink fairy wand that takes away the ache. Each day of the last month has still felt tenuous, despite the pregnancy symptoms and regular check ins with my ever competent doctor. A couple weeks after I got my good news, I got a pregnancy announcement from a friend and was still a little jarred. Infertility will stick with me for a lifetime. I’ll experience pregnancy differently, parent differently, and one thing is for sure: I will never, ever take what I have for granted. We’re not out of the woods until we have a beautiful, healthy baby in our arms, but for the time being, I’m doing my best to live in the moment and enjoy this little bump of mine while it lasts.






Babies everywhere

Remember that commercial that went viral a while back about “babies everywhere”? No? Just me? Ok, let me refresh your memory:

As an infertile Myrtle, I feel like I see pregnant ladies and babies EVERYWHERE. Literally. I cannot take my dog for a walk, make a grocery run or even watch TV without being inundated by those more fertile than I. Here are some examples of where I’ve been hit in the face by the baby train:

  • At my fertility clinic. Yep, the very place where all the infertiles hang out together inadvertently also sometimes has babies. You might think that would be a good sign – hey, somebody here got pregnant and had a baby! – and for some, that might be the case. However, for most of us, it’s like rubbing salt in an already festering wound.  My clinic thankfully has a policy that no children are allowed in the waiting room, but I do run into them occasionally on the other side of the office where everyone passes through to check out and make appointments.
  • At church. Damn, this one hurts. I’m usually feeling slightly tender at church anyways, due to the whole “why, God?” thing. And then there’s almost always an adorable family sitting in a pew in front of me and the baby is making eyes at me and cute noises and OH MY GOD IT IS JUST TOO MUCH.
  • Target. FREAKING TARGET is the breeding ground for uber-preggos and mamas with new babes. I love Target with a fiery passion as much as the next thirty-something female, but just once, I’d like to not have to navigate through the aisles past all the carts filled with kiddos and kiddo-related items. If Target served alcohol, maybe it would make it a little more tolerable.
  • At the emergency room. The night before/wee early morning hours of the day I was due to start my shots for the IVF retrieval, I went to the ER with stomach flu. Lying in bed, hooked up to an IV and unable to move, I was at the mercy of the television screen above my face in the corner of the room. As luck would have it, there was some D-rate 2 am soap opera on, where a woman was like a million months pregnant and getting an ultrasound done. You literally cannot make this shit up.
  • Commercials. For the love of God, stop with all the Huggies, Pampers, and Clearblue commercials! I wish there were a “block” button for TV like on Facebook where you can hide topics you don’t want to see. Speaking of which…
  • Facebook. Enough said.

Listen, I know that I live in the real world, and I can’t hide from it, babies and all. Honestly, usually seeing babies makes me stinking happy. Their cute chipmunk cheeks, squishy thighs and infectious laughs make me fill with joy. But sometimes that joy turns to sadness. (What is this, Inside Out?) It’s just another example of that weird emotion I discovered called happysad; the ability to feel both ends of the spectrum at the same time. And sometimes I’m only on the sad end of the spectrum, and that’s ok. Other times, hearing a baby’s giggle makes me hopeful and expectant for the day that I’ll one day hear my baby’s laugh. And in that moment, it will be the most beautiful sound in the world.

Help is on the way

As I moved cycle by cycle, further and further along in my ever cliched “journey to conceive”, I kept searching for resources that would help convince me that I am not alone, and also educate without infantilizing the audience (pun most definitely intended).  I’ve since found a handful of places on the Internet that I regularly like to visit for solidarity, education, and sometimes even humor. For those of you looking for similar spaces, or for those wishing to educate yourself for your own future TTC journey or the journeys of others, I’ve compiled a list here for you all. And please, for the love of all things holy, skip the message boards on Baby Center or What to Expect – for your own sanity and for mine.

  • Ava blog: The Ava bracelet is modern technology at its finest; a Fitbit-like device that you can wear at night that tracks physiological parameters and predicts your date of ovulation (more on my experience with Ava on a later post). The creators over at Ava are super cool, in that they are constantly putting out evidence-based (read: SCIENCE!) content on their blog. This is a great place to learn the ins and outs on trying to conceive naturally, learn about weird myths and why they are debunked, and general knowledge about women’s fertility.


  • pregnantish: pregnantish is another great content-driven site, focused on those of us going through some sort of challenge getting pregnant. It’s well crafted, inclusive of all communities including LGBT, singles wanting to get pregnant, and those trying naturally, and offers various perspectives from professional writers and professionals in the field of infertility. Andrea Syrtash, the founder of pregnantish, has been through several years of infertility and knows firsthand what the long, bittersweet road feels like. I had the pleasure of meeting her at an event in LA last year, and it’s clear she has a passion for infertility awareness and advocacy.


  • IVF babble: IVF babble is an online magazine based out of the UK. It’s sort of a slightly looser version of pregnantish; there’s a lot of blogger contributors (shameless plug: like me! Check out the article I wrote here), and it’s more focused specifically about the IVF process.


  • Advanced Fertility Center of Chicago: I’m not advocating for or against this fertility center in any way, I just found their site extremely helpful when I was initially consulting Dr. Google about the IUI and IVF process. It breaks down the technical aspects of various assisted reproductive technologies (ART) in ways I could easily understand. Their page covers everything from what is IUI or IVF, to success rates, to what a 5 day blastocyst looks like. I found it useful as an ART newbie and referenced it often.


  • Fertility Friday: This was one of the first podcasts I started listening to when I suspected something was up with my ability to have a baby. Lisa Marie is a godsend! She is a trained fertility awareness specialist, and interviews all sorts of various medical professionals and infertility specialists, both from Eastern and Western medicine. I learned so much more about my own fertility in the last year and a half listening to Lisa than I ever did in my previous 30+ years of life. I highly recommend listening to this podcast if you are at all interested in women’s fertility issues.


  • Matt and Doree’s Eggcellent Adventure: My favorite resource of them all! I started listening to this podcast about a year ago, before we even knew we would need to go down the road of IVF. Matt, a writer for the TV show The Goldbergs, and Doree, a novelist and writer for Buzzfeed, are the married cohosts of the podcast who happen to be going through the IVF process. They are hilarious, deeply honest and open, and so fun to listen to. They somehow make hearing about doctor’s appointments and shots in the butt an enjoyable experience. There’s also a wide range of listeners emailing in and leaving voicemails to provide perspectives or ask advice. Listening to this podcast made me so much less stressed when we finally made the decision to start IVF. I eagerly await a new episode every Monday morning to hear an update on what’s going on in the world of Matt and Doree, who are currently going through their fourth IVF retrieval process right now. I also met Doree at the pregnantish event a couple months ago, and totally fangirled hard. No shame in my game.


Until proven otherwise

“You’re pregnant!”

Those were the words that I heard, from my doctor’s mouth, no less than twice on the day of my transfer. Two days later, I’m still having a hard time believing them. I’m so happy and grateful to have gotten to this point, but there’s a niggling little voice in the back of my head still asking the question, “Did this really work? Am I really going to be pregnant?” I’ll probably be asking myself that until I pop this baby out.

Tuesday went about as well as could be expected, frozen embryo transfer-wise. Dale and I arrived at the fertility center and was greeted by our embryologist, Rey, who actually thawed our embryo for us that morning. She handed us a picture of our “perfect” 4AA graded embryo that was about to be transferred. Yep, her name was Rey, like from Star Wars. I can only assume that she used the Jedi force to defrost our Millersicle. She/he shall henceforth be known as BB-8 (also because if you tilt the picture sideways it looks like BB-8! See?).

Our little Jedi sidekick. 

Despite a small hiccup wherein my doctor declared my cervix “closed” and needed a different catheter to get the little guy up in my uterus, the transfer went swimmingly! I also had my acupuncturist, Tina, at the fertility center for pre and post-transfer treatment. During such an anxious and exciting moment, it was an incredible comfort to have her by my side.

Dale held my hand the whole way, and we were able to watch the air bubbles on either side of the embryo travel down the catheter and *bloop*! Just like that, land in my uterus. What a trippy experience.

Those little white dots in the center are the air bubbles that travel down the catheter and into the uterus with the embryo. Somewhere in between the two is the microscopic fleck that will be a baby someday. Life is weird.

My doctor is super old school, so I have strict instructions to stay basically immobile over the next several days. I’m on four days of bed rest and two more days of “house arrest”, at which point I can shower and dress myself and feel like a normal person. Luckily I got the ok from doc to shuffle over to my neighbors’ house for a Super Bowl party; as long as I “don’t dance to JT during the halftime show”, she says I’m fine.

Bed rest for me has been looking a lot like this:

Basically my furbabies are just trading places on my lap; sometimes I get two of them at once. And I’m fine with that. It has been kind of nice to get some forced R&R. Although I think Dale might get a *little* tired of making all of my meals and delivering them to me on a tray.

The number one question I’ve been getting from friends and family is, “How are you feeling??” Umm… fine? Normal? Annoyed that I can’t take a shower? That’s the weird thing about this process – the egg retrieval is so much more involved and intensive. I was out of commission for several days afterwards, sore beyond belief for the first couple of days. The transfer, on the other hand, is an easy outpatient procedure that takes a half hour max from start to finish. I feel totally normal and really no different than I did three days ago, and might not feel different even after I get a positive pregnancy test. I’m on progesterone and estrogen medication that may mimic pregnancy symptoms, so I can’t even trust the typical sore boobs or nausea to tell me if I have a “sticky” embryo. (For those of you that don’t know, wishing someone a sticky embryo is actually a good thing in the TTC community, although to me it always sounded super weird.)

Sooooo, what happens now? Oh. Yeah. More waiting. And trying not to go bored out of my mind. Thank god for Netflix, Hulu and all the other modern miracles helping me pass the time and wait to find out if my miracle of life is sticking around (no pun intended). For now, in this moment, I’m PUPO – pregnant until proven otherwise.

I’ll take it.


What not to say

Earlier this week, I told you that it was okay to not know what to say to someone struggling with infertility or loss. This absolutely holds true, especially if you are reaching out in love and kindness. That being said, there are definitely some things that I’ve learned us infertiles don’t particularly love hearing, and may be more harmful than helpful. Interested in becoming a more supporting friend or partner? Then read on, my friends.

Things NOT to say to someone struggling with infertility:

  • Just relax!” Ugh. This is one so many of us have heard in so many variations. I am here to tell you that all the yoga, meditation and giving it up to the universe in the world will not get me pregnant. If this were true, I would be sitting on my couch eating bon bons every day and I would be magically pregnant a million times over.
  • Have you tried cutting out {insert food or beverage here}?” The most typical options here include alcohol, caffeine, fish, and whatever else the person has heard of that *might* affect a pregnancy. Don’t worry, I’ll be over here relaxing with my dull headache from not having any caffeine, and totally zen without my occasional glass of wine.
  • My cousin’s best friend’s sorority sister tried to get pregnant for seven years and did three IVF cycles, and then she went on vacation with her hubby and BOOM, she got pregnant with twins!” Yea… this one is self explanatory. And may or may not cause me to punch you in the face. You’ve been warned.
  • Stop worrying about it so much and it’ll happen.” Oh my gosh! You are so right. I’ll just stop thinking about how much I want a baby and I’ll definitely get pregnant! It’s like a teenage crush, right? Pretend you don’t want the guy in order to get him to like you. Having babies must work the same way!
  • So when are you going to start a family?” This is something I’ve heard countless times over. Often very well meaning and coming from a place of love, but if you don’t know someone’s situation, this isn’t the best way to get the conversation started. Maybe someone doesn’t want kids or has struggled to get pregnant and might not be ready to talk about it. Let them open that door without you forcing it open.

Wondering what you can say to someone you know who is going through infertility? Don’t worry, dear reader, I gotchu.

Things you can say instead:

  • Do you want to talk about it?” Sometimes, the most supportive thing you can do is just letting them know that you’re there, and are willing and able to lend and ear – or a shoulder – when they’re ready. They might not be wanting to talk in that moment, but you’ve opened the door for them when they need it.
  • I’m so sorry. This must really suck.” Instead of trying to be the fixer – “have you tried xyz? Here’s my acupuncturist’s phone number”, etc – be the listener. Acknowledge their feelings of pain, or fear, or loneliness. Allow them to sit in their pain without needing your own personal validation of pulling them out of their pit of sadness. Give them permission to just be.
  • I don’t know what to say.” Guess what – this is totally okay! You might not know what to say to someone in the moment that they share their struggles with you. Sharing that you don’t know what to say is infinitely better than offering up a lame platitude.
  • What can I do to help?” They might be going through treatments, or need the ability to have some alone time outside of family obligations. Offering to walk the dog or watch the toddler during treatments or appointments, or just offering help wherever needed, can be a big weight off of their shoulders. Even if they never take you up on your offer, knowing the help is there if needed is a huge relief.
  • I’m thinking about you and sending you prayers/positive vibes.” It’s so nice to get occasional check ins from friends and family, even during the times where there is no active treatment or progress happening. Infertility sucks both in the slow, long days and the busy ones too. Letting someone know you’re thinking about them even if it’s totally random can be a great pick-me-up in that moment.