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I was 30 when I sat in a small room and was told my eggs were the problem.

All of my embryos were highly fragmented. My husband’s sperm was fine. So it was me. Low egg quality. Nothing you can do. Try IVF again.

I remember the quiet shame in that room. The kind that sits heavy in your chest. The k...

I was stuck in infertility BS for years.

Not because I was not trying.
Not because I was not doing the physical work.
Not because I did not care enough.

I was stuck because I refused to take radical responsibility for my own bullshit.

If I could go back to 27 when this journey started I would sit t...

I did everything right.

The diet was clean. The supplements were precise. My gut health was dialed in. I understood mitochondria and cellular health. I knew that egg quality was not random and that your body is not frozen at thirty just because someone in a white coat says it is.

My fertility jour...

I was twenty seven and living in unexplained infertility hell.

After my second failed IVF I had nothing left to optimize.

For a year I had been perfect. Perfect diet. Perfect supplements. Yoga. Meditation. Labs that looked clean. I looked healthy. I felt healthy. On paper there was nothing to fault.

And I still did not make it to day twenty eight.

The only t...

The fertility industry has a lot of women believing their eggs are locked inside a magical ovary that can only decline with age.

Birthday candles equal doom.

That dramatic blue graph. The sharp drop after thirty five. The urgency. Freeze your eggs. Hurry up.

Age matters. Biology matters. But the ...

When I was twenty seven and infertile my cycle was perfect.