Evolving Through Infertility: Trusting the Timing, Redefining the Path

Time doesn’t slow down for anyone.

It constantly moves forward; unapologetically, relentlessly and with or without our permission.

And with it, the quiet pressure builds. The aching uncertainty. The complex layers of hope and grief that come with navigating infertility.

There’s this space I often find myself in… somewhere between surrender and longing.

Some days, I feel grounded in acceptance, trusting the process, leaning into peace.

Other days, I spiral. I question everything. I feel the weight of what hasn’t happened yet.

But lately, I’ve been choosing to listen to something softer. Something steadier.

That voice inside that says:

“You are allowed to evolve. You are allowed to want different things. You are allowed to let go and trust.”

Because the truth is, infertility is not just a medical journey … it’s an identity shift. It forces you to look at yourself, your worth, your dreams, and your definitions of womanhood and family.

And through it all, you change. You evolve. 

I am not the girl I was at 16 when I left home. 

I am not the girl I was at 21, crying in doctors' offices, telling them something was wrong with me. 

I am not the girl I was at 27 when I finally received my Endometriosis diagnosis.

I am not the woman I was at 30 when I quit my corporate job.

I am not the woman at 33 when I got married and had my second Endometriosis surgery.

I am not the woman I was at 36 when I finally got pregnant, then miscarried and went through a life and business burnout.

Today, at 39, I am an evolved woman allowing all of her past experiences and lessons to sink in, sit with them and allow myself grace for this next phase of life. 

I’ve realized that this journey, as painful and raw as it is at times, has also shaped me into someone stronger, more intuitive, more in tune with what truly matters. I’ve become someone who knows how to surrender — not because I gave up, but because I chose to let go of control.

As Nate often reminds me when I’m caught in the spiral of worry or “what ifs”:

“We were never meant for a ‘normal’ life.” 

Yes, this is just another way the universe is reminding us that we’re meant for something beyond the norm.

And I believe him. I believe that there’s purpose in the waiting, even when it’s hard. That there’s beauty in carving your own path, even when it looks nothing like the one you pictured. That maybe, just maybe, the life we’re building with its twists, delays, and detours — is exactly the life we were meant for.

So here’s what I know today:

Time will keep moving. My story will keep unfolding.

And I will keep evolving — gracefully, messily, powerfully — into whoever I’m becoming next.

And so will you. I believe in you, and I believe in your journey.