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She Would’ve Been One Today: Honoring the Baby I Lost She would’ve been one today. A whole year old. There would’ve been cake. Probably a meltdown over frosting. A ridiculous highchair banner I found on Etsy. Too many photos of her doing absolutely nothing and everything all at once. But instead, there’s just me.And this quiet ache I’ve been carrying all day. No one else remembered this date. Not really. And I don’t blame them—life moves on. But for me, time is split in two: before her , and after I lost her. I want to write something beautiful. Something hopeful. But the truth is—I’m also sitting here with the fresh sting of another failed cycle. Grief stacked on top of grief. It’s hard to find my “why” right now. Hard to find the reason to keep trying. But I still have love. So much love. And I need somewhere to put it. So today, I’m honoring her—the only way I can. And if you’re here, maybe you’re looking for ways to do the same. Below are some gentle ideas to remember your baby, your pregnancy, or your loss—no matter how long ago it was. Your love is still real. And it deserves a place to go. 🌱 Ways to Honor the Baby You Lost 1. Plant something that grows. Let your love bloom. Choose a flower, tree, or tiny plant and make it a living symbol of the life you carried. Ideas: Larkspur  (July birth flower) Baby’s breath  (symbol of innocence) Forget-me-nots A rose bush, lilac, or weeping willow You can make it a tradition—plant something new each year. 2. Create a birthday ritual. You don’t need a party to celebrate their existence.Light a candle. Eat a cupcake. Watch the stars. Visit somewhere that feels peaceful. It’s not about who sees it. It’s about what it means to you. 3. Write them a letter. Grief is full of unspoken things. Put them down. Tell them what you miss. What you imagined. What you still carry.You can keep the letters in a journal, a memory box, or tucked away somewhere private and sacred. 4. Wear something that reminds you of them. Miscarriage jewelry, birthstone necklaces, tattoos, subtle keepsakes—they’re not “just things.” They’re anchors to the love that never left. I got a tattoo: her birth flower and baby’s breath. It's my way of saying she was here.  She mattered. 5. Name them (even silently). You don’t need a certificate or approval. You’re allowed to name your baby.Even if no one else says it, you can. 6. Build a memory space. A shelf, a shadow box, a tiny drawer filled with sonograms or keepsakes. A visual reminder that they existed.  You don’t need a nursery to prove they were loved. 7. Honor them through someone else. Donate in their name. Write a card for another loss mom. Light a candle on a support group page.Tiny ripples of compassion matter. 💔 When You’ve Lost Your “Why” Today, I feel lost. Not in the dramatic, cinematic way—but in the quiet, exhausted way that sneaks up on you after trying so hard for so long. I don’t know what’s next.I don’t know if I’ll keep trying.I don’t know how many more “almosts” my heart can hold. But I do  know this: She changed me.And even if the world forgets this date, I won’t.Even if my arms are empty, my heart is not. So today, I say: Ha ppy almost-birthday, my girl.You didn’t stay long, but you stay with me.You were mine. You are mine. Always. And to anyone reading this who’s grieving a baby of their own—you’re not alone.Your love didn’t end with the loss.It ’s still here. Still sacred.And still worthy of being seen.

Opening a store for the most resilient, bloated, emotionally exhausted humans on Earth. So… I did a thing. I officially launched the IVF*this merch store —and not to be dramatic, but I might cry (and not just because of the progesterone). If you're going through IVF or supporting someone who is, you know there’s no such thing as just  an egg retrieval, a transfer, or a shot. This journey is physically brutal, emotionally exhausting, and deeply isolating. And yet, there’s almost nothing  out there that speaks our language. No one hands you an ivf gift, such as a mug that says, “Stick, baby, stick.” Or a card that reads, “I gave your uterus a call and told her to stop acting like a lil' b*tch.” So I made them. Because we deserve better. Why I Created IVF*this IVF warriors are some of the most resilient people alive. We inject hope into our bodies daily—literally. We show up to appointments half-dressed and fully bloated. We survive two-week waits, blood draws, heartbreak, and hormone swings that would break lesser mortals. This store was built to recognize that resilience. Not with generic fertility platitudes—but with bold, funny, empowering, and sometimes wildly inappropriate designs that speak the truth out loud. Because IVF support  shouldn't look like pastel butterflies. It should look like a uterus in beast mode. What You’ll Find in the Shop (IVF Gifts & Merch) IVF greeting cards  that say what Hallmark won’t Fertility warrior t-shirts  for transfer day, retrieval, or general hormonal chaos Funny IVF mugs  (yes, there’s one that says "IVF'D" with a middle finger) Retrieval and transfer kits  coming soon! Emotional support items  designed for people who are so over  hearing "just relax" This isn’t just IVF merch. This is infertility awareness gear  that gives your uterus (and your feelings) a voice. ivf*this merch! Because IVF Belongs in the Conversation Infertility still lives in the shadows. People don’t talk about the ugly parts, the weird parts, the straight-up traumatic parts. But we do. Right here. Loudly and with really good fonts. Whether you’re navigating fertility treatments, supporting a loved one, or just love good reproductive rage humor—welcome to the IVF*this family. You’re not alone, and you’re definitely not invisible. 🛒 Ready to shop? Click here to browse the IVF*this store. New products drop weekly, because apparently I don’t know how to emotionally rest.

Spoiler-ish heads up: There’s a scene at the end of Scrambled that I’m going to talk about in detail. If you haven’t watched the movie yet and want to go in fresh, maybe bookmark this and come back. But if you’ve already seen it — or if you’re someone who finds comfort in knowing the emotional payoff is worth it — keep reading. You’re in for something beautiful. When a Movie Gets Too Real (and Also, Thank God It Does) I wasn’t expecting much from Scrambled. It showed up in my recommendations right after I found out that none of our embryos were viable. Two were chromosomally abnormal. One was inconclusive. Translation: it didn’t work. Again. I was in that headspace where your body feels like static and your brain can’t complete a sentence, and the only thing I could do was sit and scroll. I pressed play. And that’s when this film — with its slightly awkward humor and belly-shot bruises — completely cracked me open in the best way. That Baby Shower Scene? Too Real. There’s this moment in the film where the main character, Nellie, walks into a baby shower, and someone asks her, “What’s new with you?” And the camera zooms in like it’s her moment to shine. Cue the emotional existential crisis! God. That question. “What’s new with you?” It’s always asked at the worst times. Family gatherings. Showers. Holidays. Group texts. And if you’re going through IVF — or trying to figure out if your body can even keep up — it hits like a slap. But the film gets it. It doesn’t brush past it. It shows the weight of that question in all its uncomfortable glory — and somehow still makes you laugh through the cringe. That’s the magic of Scrambled: it lets you feel seen and lets you breathe. check out this clip from the baby shower scene → The Scene That Shattered Me (in the Best Way) But it was the ending that really gutted me. In a gentle, soul-reset kind of way. Nellie writes a letter to the eggs she’s frozen. She talks to them — with honesty and tenderness. She tells them they were the most intentional thing she’s ever done. She doesn’t know what their future is, but she honors them anyway. And then she closes the letter with: “Love, Mom.” I lost it. Because for the first time, I realized something I’d never actually said out loud to myself: I already am a mother. Even without a living child. Even without a positive test right now. Even in the grief, the ambiguity, the loss — I’ve been a mother all along. To the embryos I prayed over. To the baby I miscarried. To the cycles I gave my body to. To the dreams I carried in my gut, even when I was too scared to say them out loud. Redefining Motherhood When the World Only Sees Outcomes IVF has a way of narrowing your vision. It makes you fixate on numbers: follicles, embryos, hCG, days past transfer. It pulls your identity into what’s not happening yet — and robs you of recognizing what already is. Motherhood isn’t just live birth. It’s devotion. It’s sacrifice. It’s choosing hope when logic says not to. Watching Scrambled reminded me that I’ve already shown up for something sacred. I’ve already mothered in ways that no one may ever see — but that doesn’t make it less real. Why This Movie Was the Shift I Didn’t Know I Needed I’ve read articles. I’ve joined forums. I’ve heard the affirmations. But it was this story, told simply and imperfectly, that hit me straight in the chest. It didn’t try to tie everything up in a bow. It didn’t preach. It just… reflected something real. And in doing so, gave me permission to rewrite how I see myself. Not just as “someone trying to become a mom.” But as someone who already is one. Where to Watch Scrambled: You can stream Scrambled on: Amazon Prime Hulu Your Turn: Has a Movie Ever Cracked You Open? Has a show, movie, song, or random TikTok ever hit you so hard it made something click in your soul? Tell me about it in the comments. Seriously. Let’s build a little collection of sacred media moments for IVF warriors. You never know who might need the exact same shift.

For IVF Medication, Mood Meds, and the “Did I Take That Already?” Spiral Let’s be real: IVF already feels like juggling flaming syringes while blindfolded. Add in your daily thyroid meds, antidepressants, prenatals, a sprinkle of anti-nausea here, some progesterone in places we won’t name there—and it’s a lot. You don’t need to be playing medication Tetris every day when it comes to IVF medication. Enter: smart pill dispensers.  Little boxes of sanity in a hormone-fueled storm. Top Pick: Hero Smart Pill Dispenser Best For:  IVF warriors with strict dosing schedules + multiple daily meds. Holds up to 10 different medications Automatically dispenses  the right pills at the right time Syncs with a simple app for alerts, refills, and tracking Reminds you like a helpful robot nurse (minus judgment) Cost:  $44.99/month + $99.99 startup HSA/FSA Eligible Why We Love It: If your schedule has pills morning, noon, night, and somewhere in between—and you’re over  worrying if you doubled your Zoloft—this thing will literally sort it out for you. No sorting trays, no med math, just peace of mind. Hero Smart Pill Dispenser Budget-Friendly Favorite: LiveFine Bluetooth Pill Dispenser Best For:  People who want structured reminders but don’t need full automation. 28 slots with rotating tray  that moves to the correct dose Set up to 9 alarms a day App syncs via Bluetooth for easy scheduling Lockable lid to avoid accidental double-dosing Cost:  ~$90 one-time Purchase LiveFineProduct.com  or Amazon No monthly fee Why We Love It: It doesn’t sort your pills for you, but it will  keep your IVF cycle and other meds organized without breaking the bank. Great if you’re cool refilling weekly and need strong, customizable alerts. LiveFine Bluetooth Pill Dispenser Travel-Friendly Minimalist: EziMedPil Smart Pill Organizer Best For:  IVF on the go or anyone who needs reminders more than a robot arm. App-controlled alerts for each time slot Simple visual and sound cues Lightweight, compact, great for throwing in a weekender bag Does not dispense , just stores and reminds Cost:  ~$60 on Amazon You still need to know which pill is which—but it’ll nudge you when it’s time Why We Love It: If you’re traveling for IVF ( hello, out-of-state clinic folks), this is a fantastic option to keep everything on track without lugging a full-size dispenser through TSA. EziMedPil Smart Pill Organizer Product Best For Dispensing Reminders Cost Hero IVF + daily meds, precision dosing ✅ Full auto ✅ App-based $44.99/mo + $99 setup LiveFine IVF + some structure, weekly refill OK 🔁 Rotating tray ✅ Bluetooth app ~$90 one-time EziMedPil Travel, reminders-only ❌ None ✅ App alerts ~$60 one-time Final Thoughts Let’s face it: IVF doesn’t come with a personal assistant. (Although we definitely deserve one.) These smart dispensers can remove some chaos , prevent missed doses , and help you focus on what matters—like not screaming into the void every time your alarm goes off. Seriously. Let a machine keep track so you can focus on surviving  the IVF sh*tstorm.

Somewhere between injections, appointments, and heartbreak, I started speaking to myself like I was the enemy. I didn’t even realize how cruel I had been — until I sat down to write this. After multiple failed IVF cycle, I hit a wall. Not the kind you cry through and bounce back from the next day. The kind that makes you question your body, your choices, your worth. The kind that shatters something deep inside and dares you to find the pieces. So this post is for me. But maybe it’s for you, too — if you’ve ever blamed yourself for things beyond your control, or felt like your body betrayed you. Dear Me, Mm k… we need to talk. I’ve said some pretty harsh shit to you — and more often, I stayed quiet when you desperately needed to hear something kind. So let me say it now: I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I’ve talked to you. For the names I’ve called you. For avoiding your reflection in the mirror, and picking it apart when I finally did look. For tying your worth to what your body could or couldn’t do. For whispering that you were broken, defective, not enough… until you started believing it. I’m sorry I made you feel like a failure. Because you’re not. You’ve endured heartbreak layered upon heartbreak — and still, you’ve shown up. You walked into that clinic again. You held hope again. You endured injections, blood draws, surgeries, and devastating silence. You’ve carried life. You’ve carried loss. You’ve carried you through all of it. You’ve never stopped trying. I know how easy it is to spiral into shame. I know that voice that plays in your head — the one that didn’t start with IVF. The one that’s been with you since way before this journey. The one that tells you you’re not lovable unless you’re producing, performing, perfect. But here’s the truth: That voice isn’t yours. It was trained into you. And I’ve watched you work so damn hard to rewrite it — even when the pen kept shaking in your hand. I forgive you for the nights you didn’t want to keep going. For the mornings you isolated because “How are you?” felt like an interrogation. For the way you survived — even if it wasn’t always pretty. I forgive you for not being okay. And I’m so proud of you. You’ve felt life inside of you. You’ve nurtured dreams that didn’t get the chance to stay. You opened your heart anyway. You still do. Now, I offer you something you’ve struggled to offer yourself: Grace. This journey has been brutal and breathtaking all at once. You are not just what you’ve lost. You are everything you’ve survived. You are healing. You are still here. And that, my love, is worth celebrating. Love, Me P.S. I f*cking love you, bitch. Mental Health Benefits If you’ve ever spoken to yourself like an enemy, I hope you’ll pause today and offer yourself something softer. Even if it feels awkward or unnatural at first. Start by saying to yourself “I’m sorry.” Start with “I forgive you.” Start with “I’m proud of you.”Infertility and mental health are linked, and this exercise was instrumental in helping me recognize that connection. And if you’re brave enough… write your own letter. You don’t have to show anyone. But you deserve to hear something kind — especially from yourself. I created a handy "Apology Letter to Self" template available for download if you need a starting point! Writing it down and then reading it aloud proved to be a powerful and therapeutic experience for me, offering a touch of healing. I hope it can do the same for you.

Diving back into the world of IVF for round two feels like a familiar rollercoaster—this time, with a side of acupuncture needles and a sprinkle of optimism. As I step into this part of my journey, it's clear that the road to creating life is as unpredictable as a game of Bingo, but instead of numbers, we're dabbling in eggs and embryos. This chapter in my fertility saga introduces acupuncture, a needle-based adventure, into my routine. It's a prickly path I never imagined trekking, yet here I am, turning into a human pincushion, all in the name of optimizing egg quality. Think of it as a spa day, but instead of leaving with a glowing face, I’m aiming for glowing ovaries. Nutrition has also taken center stage in my quest for peak fertility. I'm now dining like a fertility goddess, indulging in a smorgasbord of antioxidant-rich foods and fertility-boosting nutrients. My plate looks like a rainbow, bursting with colors and the promise of better egg quality. It's like my diet got a fairy tale makeover, and I'm just waiting for the magic to happen... But lets be honest, my love for all things sugar has not been neglected. I am just slightly more aware of how much I am consuming. But, as with any good story, there are challenges to face. My recent lab adventures revealed a plot twist—a slight hiccup in egg production. It seems my biological clock isn't just ticking; it's banging a drum, adding a sense of urgency to this already exhilarating journey. Adding another layer of complexity, my partner, my rock through this process, has been knighted as the king of night shifts, leaving me to brave the injection battlefield solo. Armed with syringes and a newfound courage, I'm ready to face this challenge head-on. It's a daunting task, but I'm channeling my inner warrior. Despite the rollercoaster of emotions and the hurdles along the way, my spirit remains unbroken. With each challenge comes growth, and with each step forward, I inch closer to my dream. So, as I embark on round two, I'm holding my head high, armed with needles, supplements, and a diet fit for fertility royalty. Here's to the journey ahead—filled with hope, healing, and a little humor to keep things interesting. Because when it comes to IVF, a good laugh might just be the best medicine. Round two, let's do this—with a smile and an open heart.

In the journey of life, there are moments that define us, moments that break us, and moments that compel us to find beauty in the midst of profound sorrow. Today, I want to share with you a deeply personal piece of my heart, a story of love, loss, and the indelible mark of a little soul who, though never cradled in my arms, will forever be cradled in my heart. On July 6th, a date that was etched in my heart with both anticipation and joy, I was due to welcome my baby girl into this world. The universe, however, had a different plan, and I found myself navigating the heart-wrenching path of miscarriage. The pain of losing a child is a unique sorrow, a journey that many of us walk in silent grief, our dreams and hopes unfulfilled. In the search for healing and a way to keep my daughter's memory alive, I turned to a form of expression that has always spoken to me in times of joy and sorrow alike: art. Art, in its many forms, has the power to heal, to memorialize, and to carry forward the essence of what we hold dear. For me, this took the shape of a tattoo, a permanent tribute to the baby girl who changed my life in the brief time she was with me. I chose her birth flower, the Larkspur, symbolizing love and positivity, intertwined with sprigs of Baby's Breath, representing purity and innocence. This tattoo, delicately placed where I can see and touch it, serves as a constant reminder of her. It's a way for me to keep her close, to honor her existence, and to acknowledge the impact she has had on my life. This tattoo is not just ink on skin. It's a story. A story of love, loss, and the unbreakable bond between a mother and her child. It's a testament to the fact that though she may not be present in my arms, she is forever etched in my soul, guiding me with her unseen presence. To anyone who has walked this path, who has felt the sting of such a loss, I extend my heart to you. I invite you to share your stories, your tributes, and your ways of remembering. Whether through art, words, or silent reflection, let's create a space where our angels are remembered, where our grief can be shared, and our healing journey embraced. In sharing this, I hope to not only honor my daughter but to connect with others who understand this unique pain. Let's support each other, share our stories of love and loss, and find comfort in the knowledge that we are not alone. Your stories, your tributes, your reflections are welcome here. Let's continue this conversation, sharing our experiences and healing together. #IVF #invitro #fertility #miscarriage #memorial #pregnancy