Let me start by saying this: I’m writing these words for you. For the women who have walked this road before me, for those still on it, and for anyone quietly carrying the same fears and insecurities I’ve carried. I’m writing this because, for far too long, topics like this were brushed aside, spoken about only in whispers. But I believe we deserve more than silence. We deserve community, honesty, and the reminder that we’re not alone.
Sharing this is perhaps the most private thing I’ve ever put into words. I hesitated for months, wondering if it was “too much.” But then I thought—what’s the point of curating only the pretty snapshots of life if I don’t also open up about the real, raw parts? After all, what makes us truly strong as women is not only celebrating our highs, but also holding space for one another in the lows.
For me, one of those lows has been the struggle to grow our family.
Two Years of Trying
At the end of last year, I wrote a short post about how my husband and I had been trying for another baby for two years without success. Hitting “publish” felt terrifying, but what came afterward changed me. The flood of support, the stories you shared in return, the quiet “me too” messages—it was overwhelming in the best way.
It was then I realized how many of us are carrying this same weight, quietly navigating the heartbreak and frustration, all while pretending everything is fine. That moment drove home something I’ll never forget: we need to talk about the things that aren’t perfect. The messy chapters matter just as much as the glossy ones.
The Calm Before
After writing that story, life carried on in its usual whirlwind. The holidays rolled in, bringing family time and little pockets of joy. Then came work—Couture, collaborations, dinners, endless travel. On the outside, it looked like “business as usual.” Inside, though, I could feel the quiet tension building. I didn’t know it at the time, but those busy months were really the calm before a storm of change.
By May, something shifted. I started saying no to projects. I stepped back from the constant flights and late-night events. It wasn’t easy—I’ve always thrived on that fast-paced rhythm—but I knew it was necessary. My body needed me. My mind needed me. So, for the first time in years, I slowed down.
IVF: The Next Chapter
That pause in my career wasn’t about rest in the traditional sense—it was about preparing for something entirely new: IVF. Just typing those three letters still feels surreal, though by now I’ve said them countless times to doctors, nurses, and close friends. IVF—three little letters that carry so much hope, fear, and vulnerability all at once.
Starting hormone injections was the first tangible step after years of waiting and wishing. To some, it may look like science. To me, it felt like an act of courage. Every injection was a reminder that this journey isn’t linear, and that strength sometimes looks like leaning into the unknown.
Why I’m Sharing This
So why am I telling you all of this now? Because I don’t believe stories like these should be hidden. Too many women feel the pressure to present a “perfect life,” to tuck away the struggles and put on a brave face. But the truth is, none of us are alone in our hard chapters. And if my openness helps even one woman feel a little less isolated, then it’s worth the discomfort of being vulnerable.
The path to happiness—whatever that may look like for you—is rarely a straight line. Mine certainly hasn’t been. But there is always a way forward, even if it looks different than you imagined.
A Community of Strength
What has kept me going through all of this is knowing that I’m part of a community of strong, resilient women. Women who share, who listen, who lift each other up. Whether it’s in the comments section of a blog post or over a quiet coffee with a friend, those connections matter more than we often realize.
So here I am—still in the middle of my story, still figuring it all out. There’s no neat ending yet, but there is hope. And sometimes, hope is enough to carry us through.
If you’re on a similar path, I see you. If you’ve been here before, I honor you. And if this is new territory, I invite you to walk alongside me. Because together, we can make the hard chapters a little lighter.
