Before I was losing pacifiers in parking lots and breastfeeding in questionable public seating, I was injecting myself with hormones, crying in storage closets, and praying that one little embryo would stick.
My path to parenthood wasn’t short, easy, or predictable. IVF humbled me. It broke me a few times. Rebuilt me strangely. And now, somehow, I’m here—staring at a tiny human who thinks my face is a snack.
This blog was born out of that experience, but it’s not just for IVF families. It’s for anyone navigating the absurd, emotional wilderness of parenthood. Whether you came to parenting through fertility treatments, surprise, adoption, or sheer chaos—you’re welcome here.
I write about breastfeeding. I write about sleep. I write about losing my identity and rediscovering it in weird mom jeans. But underneath it all, this space is rooted in perspective—born from waiting, longing, hoping, and wondering if it would ever happen at all.
Parenting is hard. But so was getting here. And that helps me find grace in the spit-up. Most days. Okay, some days.
If you’re in the thick of fertility treatment: I see you. You’re not too much. You’re fighting for something real.
If you’re a parent just trying to survive today without Googling “how much coffee is too much for a human,” you’re in the right place, too.
This is The Letdown Diaries.
Equal parts heartache and humor. Real stories, soft landings, and a reminder that you’re not the only one winging it.