Feeling punished

Today I’m just not feeling well. It’s one of those days where everything feels heavy and I’m slipping into a low, bleak mood. I keep asking myself, “What am I being punished for?” That thought has followed me through so much of my adult life. Memories surface easily — like the time at my cousin’s daughter’s birthday when I mentioned the name Madison as a name I liked for a daughter, and my cousin’s then‑wife overheard and claimed it for her baby. I swallowed the hurt because I didn’t want drama, and a week or two later she lost that pregnancy. I never wished that on anyone, but the moment stayed with me. Now, in the month I was supposed to have my daughter Raelynn Pauline Marie, my cousin Amber — who found out she was pregnant shortly before I lost my baby — is having her baby shower. I am truly happy for her, and I’m glad she’s finally having a girl, but the timing makes everything harder. There’s also Maci’s 16th birthday and a balloon release tonight for my cousin Darren, who passed in 2020. I decided not to go. I wasn’t invited to the shower and, although I was invited to the party, I just can’t be around a crowd today. I never used to miss Darren’s celebrations, but right now I need space — I believe he understands.

On a more practical note, I’ve been doing all the testing my IVF clinic requested. I completed blood work and an HSG; the HSG was painful but it confirmed both tubes are open, which was a relief. My OB did flag a concern on the imaging — he wants to review the results with the radiologist because he thinks my uterus may appear T‑shaped. If that’s true, it could explain my history of miscarriages and difficulties conceiving, and it would mean further treatment before any embryo transfer. The thought that this might have been missed or misdiagnosed years ago is upsetting. I’m hoping the imaging was just angled oddly or that it’s a false alarm. If I do have a uterine abnormality, the plan would be to proceed with egg retrieval and embryo freezing, then correct the uterine issue and wait two to three months before transfer. My original hope was to do most testing locally, travel to Syracuse for egg retrieval, and maybe do a fresh transfer — but plans change, and I’m ready to adapt and keep fighting.

On a brighter note, I’m finally done with my internship and will graduate in June with my bachelor’s in Birth–3rd with a special education endorsement. I took accelerated classes through WMU as part of a Michigan grant program and finished in three years instead of four — it was exhausting, but I am so proud and relieved to be done. After a year that included a house fire, losing my baby, and moving into a new home, completing school feels like a meaningful accomplishment and a positive milestone. My last day at my previous job was Friday the 8th; I loved that role, but I’m ready to heal, reset, and begin again. My next steps are to finish IVF testing, travel to Syracuse for treatment, and then start looking for a new teaching job when I return.

Mentally, I’m leaning on faith, therapy, and this blog to process everything. I follow support groups for women over 40 pursuing fertility treatments and find hope in their stories. My goal for the summer is to have a successful IVF cycle. I’ve been through so much — loss, setbacks, and pain — and I keep praying my luck will change. I’m tired of feeling punished. I’m going to keep doing the work: managing my health, resting when I need to, and fighting for this dream no matter how many obstacles come up. — Ailleen

Why It’s Not That Simple

People often ask, “Why put yourself through IVF? Why not just adopt?” I understand why they ask — adoption is a beautiful, loving option and it’s something I’m open to. But it’s easy to suggest solutions when you haven’t lived my life. Wanting a biological child is not about discounting adopted children; it’s about a deep, personal longing to carry a baby, to hold my child and wonder if they have my eyes or their dad’s smile. I’ve tried for years to conceive naturally, faced repeated miscarriage, and live with PCOS. I’m also in my 40s, and my biological clock is real. IVF gives me a chance now that I might not have later. My plan includes fostering and adopting in the future, but first I want to try for a child of my own.

Losing my daughter shattered me. That loss made every dream I’d held about motherhood feel urgent and fragile. Grief has been hard to face; I used to stay busy to avoid the pain. Now I’m trying to do better — to sit with my feelings, get support, and heal. I’ll continue therapy, lean on my loved ones, and use this blog to process what I’m going through and to help others who might relate.

Practical changes are coming too. I plan to leave my current job to reset and focus on my health and fertility journey before starting a new role as a teacher. Life has never been easy for me, and I know many things require more work for some of us than for others. Even so, I’ve proven I can keep going: returning to college and finishing my degree despite everything has shown me I’m resilient. I will fight for this dream, whether or not others understand.

This choice is personal and complicated — not a rejection of adoption, but a step I need to take for myself. I’m sharing this to be honest about why I’ve chosen IVF, how I’m coping, and how I plan to move forward with hope and intention. — Ailleen

Why I chose IVF

I’ve spent years trying to become pregnant naturally, but time and repeated losses have made me look for a more proactive medical path. I live with PCOS, which makes ovulation and cycles unpredictable and tracking difficult, and I’ve experienced several miscarriages that broke my heart and left me anxious about trying again without more support. Being in my 40s added urgency — age affects egg quality and overall success rates, so IVF felt like the best option to give us the strongest possible chance of having a baby. My fiancé and I talked it through and decided to move forward with intention and hope.

Right now I’m completing the pre‑IVF testing and preparing for treatment: blood work and fertility panels, an HSG to check that my tubes are open, and a uterine evaluation to ensure the lining is healthy. So far my ovarian reserve looks promising, which is encouraging. I also have high blood pressure, which places any pregnancy in a higher‑risk category. That means careful medical monitoring, working with specialists, and making stress reduction a priority — even though life and school can make that hard. I plan to continue therapy, lean on my support network, and use this blog to process feelings and track progress. IVF is both a medical plan and an emotional journey for me: I’m doing the testing, following the doctors’ guidance, and taking intentional steps to protect my health and my future child’s. Sharing this here keeps me accountable, helps me cope, and (I hope) supports others walking a similar road. — Ailleen

Why I am here

Hello — I’m Ailleen.

This is the place I’m starting to share pieces of my life: the hard, the hopeful, and everything in between. The past few years have been some of the most intense I’ve ever lived through. I’ve faced injury, job loss, the unimaginable grief of losing a family member to suicide, a house fire that took so much, and the deep, ongoing pain of miscarriage and pregnancy loss. All of it has folded into who I am now — tired and raw in places, but still standing and choosing to keep moving forward.

Why I’m writing I’m beginning this blog for my mental health and to document a chapter I’ve dreamed about my whole life: becoming a mom. I grew up wanting children, I love working with kids, and I’m finishing my degree in Early Childhood/Special Education (graduating this June). Soon I’ll be going to New York to begin IVF — a step I’m both terrified and hopeful about. Writing feels like a way to hold myself accountable, process grief, celebrate small wins, and maybe help others who relate.

What you’ll find here

  • Honest reflections on grief, fertility, loss, and healing 
  • My IVF journey — appointments, emotions, and practical details I learn along the way 
  • Thoughts on motherhood, working with children, and finishing my degree 
  • Small wins, self-care practices, and resources that help me cope

A note on tone I’ll be honest and real. Some posts will be raw. Others will be quiet moments of gratitude or practical updates. If you’re here because you’ve been through loss, are navigating fertility, or just want to follow a hopeful journey — welcome.

Next post I’ll share more about my decision to pursue IVF, what led me here, and how I’m preparing emotionally and practically. If there’s something you want me to cover (IVF questions, coping with miscarriage, balancing school and treatment), tell me in the comments or DM me — I’d love to hear what would be helpful.

Thank you for being here. Carrying hope with me,
Ailleen