At 40, I found myself in New York, a city teeming with opportunities yet daunting when it came to building a family. Despite a vibrant social life, I found myself stuck in a painful cycle of “actively dating” and “slowly healing from a heartbreak”, still striving to start a family naturally. I had the right values, realistic expectations, a decent career, a cozy apartment, a Bumble profile, and an unwavering desire to settle down. I dated, tried to make it work, and convinced myself at times that it could work—until it didn’t.
Despite an active social and professional life, I never met someone who was both available and ready to start a family. This realization hit me hard. Those who were available weren’t willing, those who were willing weren’t available, and some weren’t ready, wanting to decide “sometime later in life.” At 40, “sometime later” meant after my fertility window had closed.
My life was also profoundly altered by a personal tragedy. About a decade ago, I lost my sister in an accident, leaving me to face immense grief and loss alone. My sister and I were living in the United States while the rest of our family remained overseas. As the only next of kin, I bore the sole responsibility for medical decisions, funeral arrangements, and managing the economic consequences. The weight of my burdens became almost unbearable, a crushing force that grew heavier with each passing day. Work stress, compounded by the lingering scars of a toxic relationship, spiraled into a darkness I could barely contain—PTSD and severe anxiety. For years, I was overwhelmed by anxiety, battling daily panic attacks, nightmares, and a relentless fog of derealization. My mind became a battlefield, and my body a hostage to unending distress.
In desperation, I turned to antidepressant medication, hoping for relief, but the pills only deepened my torment. The dizziness was so intense that every day coming back from work I had to cling to the subway wall, terrified that one misstep might send me tumbling onto the tracks below. My gait was unsteady, my head light, and my resolve crumbling under the weight of survival. In this state, the thought of dating seemed impossible—an unattainable dream reserved for a future far beyond my reach.
It wasn’t until a few years before the world shut down for the COVID-19 pandemic that I began to reclaim fragments of myself. After countless therapy sessions and deep self-reflection, I slowly pieced together the shattered remnants of my well-being. Only then, when the fog began to lift and the panic receded, did the idea of opening my heart to someone new begin to seem possible again.
But then again, just before the COVID-19 pandemic lockdown, I was diagnosed with an ovarian cyst that required surgery. However, my OB/GYN failed to inform me of the sonogram results and the underlying medical condition. This negligence was discovered two months later when I returned for another appointment, still experiencing pain. It was only after opening my chart that my doctor realized I hadn’t been informed about the cyst.I was promptly referred to a gynecologic oncologist, but by then, the lockdown had begun, and hospitals were not scheduling non- emergency surgeries. Since my condition wasn’t deemed life-threatening, no surgery could be scheduled for nearly a year. As a result of this delay and oversight, my ovary lost its function and stopped producing eggs. At 40, I found myself with only one functioning ovary and a very low level of Anti Müllerian hormone (AMH), indicating a significantly diminished ovarian reserve and chances of getting pregnant.
In that moment, I faced a sobering realization: my only option was to explore fertility treatment as a single mother. And so, the journey began...
It started with exhaustive research into the myriad of fertility treatments available. I delved into clinic ratings, medications, prices, success rates, and legal considerations, leaving no stone unturned. Yet, the most daunting task was the mental preparation required—overcoming deep-seated fears, societal stigma, and a lack of support, all while battling crippling anxiety.
As I will detail in the following chapters, my journey took me overseas. To achieve pregnancy, I underwent one round of intrauterine insemination (IUI) and two cycles of in vitro fertilization (IVF), which included two egg retrievals and one embryo transfer. This journey wasn't just about fighting to bring a child into the world; it was also a battle against my anxiety, which led to moments of self-sabotage.
Through it all, I remained resilient. In 2022, my perseverance paid off with the birth of my son. He is the precious culmination of my struggles, worth every challenge faced along the way.
Becoming a mother has transformed my perspective on relationships and partnerships, fulfilling my desire for children and reshaping my understanding of commitment. I can clearly see the mistakes I made and, by God’s will, avoided in my quest to become a mother. I now realize that the crucial question is not who will provide the DNA, but who will take responsibility for the life they’ve helped create. Despite the challenges of being a single mom, I am content and happy. Above all, I am grateful that, even while being consumed by the desire to get pregnant, I avoided getting pregnant by the wrong person. Having gone through the process alone, I cannot emphasize enough the importance of choosing the right partner—a partner who will stand by you through fertility treatment, pregnancy, and parenthood.
As I reflect on my journey through IVF, I see not just the challenges and setbacks, but also the immense growth, strength, and resilience I’ve gained along the way. Each injection, every anxious waiting period, and the moments of both heartbreak and hope became stepping stones toward a deeper understanding of myself. IVF tested me in ways I could never have anticipated, but it also allowed me to discover an inner strength I never knew I had.
This process reshaped my perspective on motherhood, showing me that the path to becoming a parent is not always linear or predictable. I learned that motherhood isn’t solely defined by pregnancy or childbirth—it's about the love, intention, and perseverance we bring to the journey. For me, the strength to keep moving forward, even when the odds seemed stacked against me, was a testament to the power of hope and determination.
Through IVF, I’ve come to realize that while the destination is important, the journey itself holds immense value. It is through these trials that I’ve found a deeper connection to myself and my future child. This experience has been a reminder that we are capable of so much more than we often give ourselves credit for. We are stronger than we think, more resilient than we know, and capable of embracing the unknown with courage.
To anyone reading this, know that your journey—whatever form it takes—is valid, and your strength lies in your persistence and belief in your dreams. IVF may not always unfold as planned, but it has the power to shape us into more compassionate, understanding, and empowered individuals. Remember, you are not alone, and this process, though challenging, will leave you with a strength that lasts a lifetime.
This journey is undeniably challenging, and there will be moments when it feels utterly overwhelming. But if I could navigate it despite my anxiety, then believe me, you can too. Be gentle with yourself—acknowledge the struggles, but don’t let them define you. Embrace each challenge as it comes, and make choices that reflect your deepest values. Trust that, in the end, every difficult step will be worth it.