You never think infertility will happen to you.

And then it does.

It hits you like a Ton. Of. Bricks. Big fat, mean, ugly bricks punch you straight in the vagina. You are either told that you will have trouble conceiving, or even worse, that you can’t conceive at all.

Can’t.

Ugh.

That word sits with you. It digs into your soul deeper than anything you’ve ever felt.

I CAN’T get pregnant? I CAN’T be a mother? I CAN’T have a family?

You start to tell yourself lies.

I am broken. It’s my fault. I don’t deserve to be a mother.

I remember this defining moment like it was yesterday. The doctor told me that it was almost impossible for me to conceive. She told me that it was going to be a huge uphill battle if I wanted to get pregnant. I had already tried multiple rounds of fertility treatments, IUIs, IVF, laparoscopy, acupuncture, Chinese herbs, you name it. Infertility was my life. It had consumed every piece of my being. I didn’t go on trips, I didn’t eat certain foods, I was wearing UGG boots in the summer because someone told me it would help my fertility if I kept my feet warm.

Friends and family were getting pregnant left and right. “We weren’t even trying, and we got pregnant!” (barf). I hated everyone.

I felt doomed and just wanted to hide. I could feel EVERYONE walking on egg shells around me. Crying in my car became the new normal. The fake smiles were wearing out. It was a really dark place to live.

I lived there for three years. Maybe four.

Was I forgotten?

I learned to live in this dark place. It became who I was. I was angry. I was deeply sad. Some days I felt like I was dying.

I would often think - I just can't do this anymore.

But somehow, I did. Somehow, I could. I just kept going. It's easy to dwell on how unfair and hard it is. But, at some point, enough is enough. I knew I couldn’t be sad and angry forever. I just couldn’t give up on my dreams of becoming someone’s mother. I was NOT willing to accept that this was my fate. Despite everything and everyone telling me this wasn’t possible, my heart was telling me not to quit.

I’m not a quitter.

Just. Keep. Going.

I had really ugly days, and learned to accept that that was part of my journey. We all have them. I learned that sometimes it’s okay to not be okay. I stopped beating myself up for the way I felt. Once I understood that my anger was actually grief, I cut myself some slack.

I kept fighting. I kept searching for answers and options. I talked to doctor after doctor. I researched everything and anything. I started talking to other women who had gone through this. I was determined. I was fierce.

My pain was making me stronger.

I recognized that we all have struggles in life, and this was mine. I knew I just had to change my mindset. If I could find a way to look at my disease as a gift, perhaps I would receive a gift? It was worth a try at least.

I looked for ways to be grateful for my illness. I looked for the rainbow in the storm and I was able to find more beauty that I ever thought possible. Grief wouldn’t exist without love. I loved a baby that didn’t even exist yet. I loved him/her so hard it hurt.

Infertility was a gift. A gift I never wanted, but never knew I needed.

Infertility showed me a new version of myself - a woman who survived tragedy and became stronger from it. I realized that if this is the only curveball I'm thrown in life, I'd consider myself pretty damn lucky. I have so much other stuff in my life to be grateful for. I have fallen in love with my husband in a deeper more intense way. He has my back in a way I can't explain. After five years of failure, he stills chooses me - an infertile woman.

I have found my voice in the infertility community and get to advocate for such an important topic publicly. For the first time in my life, I know who I am, without a doubt. Infertility made me stronger.

Infertility is my Super Power.

I survived infertility. I can do ANYTHING now.

Over the years, I’ve learned A LOT. Priceless information I wouldn’t have learned any other way. Five years of trial and error. Butt loads of money spent. Lessons learned the hard way.

I decided to take all of these learnings, and pair them down into an easy to ready E-book. Infertility survival cliff notes, if you will. It’s the shit people don’t tell you. So, I’m telling you. It’s my method to survival. And it works!