Letting Go of the Checklist: My Infertility Journey
Infertility is an unforgiving game of probability. It is a constant push and pull between hope and despair, between control and surrender. When I first began my journey, I had a vision of what my life was supposed to look like—a family of four or five, a perfect little unit that checked all the boxes on my life’s carefully curated list. I clung to that checklist with everything I had, convinced that my happiness depended on each item being marked complete.
But as my journey unfolded, I realized that contentment isn’t found in a checklist. It isn’t about fulfilling expectations set by society, family, or even my younger self. True contentment, I learned, is found in being present with the life I have now, even if I don’t have full clarity on what the future holds.
Taking Control in the Chaos
My first real moment of reclaiming control came after my second unsuccessful embryo transfer. I was exhausted—physically, emotionally, and mentally. My doctor told me that my chances of success would increase with back-to-back transfers, but I knew in my heart that I needed a break. So, I took one.
For four weeks, I stepped away from the endless cycle of injections, medications, appointments, and meticulous schedules. No more hormone-fueled mood swings, no more needles, no more painful procedures.
And in that brief pause, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time—freedom.
The relief was immediate, and for the first time in years, I felt truly present in my own life.
Of course, the checklist still lingered in my mind. I eventually returned to the process, still yearning for the family I had dreamed of. But those four weeks had planted a seed within me—the realization that I was allowed to step back, to choose myself, and to redefine what happiness meant to me.
The Breaking Point
After experiencing a pregnancy loss, I reached my breaking point. I still remember the exact moment in the parking garage after my doctor’s appointment, where it was confirmed for the second time that I had lost the pregnancy. Alone in my car, I completely broke down—tears, snot, screaming, pounding the steering wheel. It was grief in its rawest form.
And then, in the midst of that breakdown, I did something unexpected. I picked up my phone, called my office manager, and told her: “I need to take time off, effective immediately.” No planning, no overthinking—just an instinctual need to pause. To this day, I am grateful for her response. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t offer advice—she simply said, “Okay, I will take care of it. I’m here if you need anything.”
That moment was the first time I truly prioritized myself. For years, I had been trying to be everything to everyone—full-time doctor, wife, mother, infertility patient, daughter, sister, friend. I was carrying the weight of expectations, and I had convinced myself that I had to juggle it all flawlessly.
But in that moment, I gave myself permission to grieve. To feel the immense loss. To sit in the mess of it all and just be.
Redefining My Priorities
After stepping away from the chaos, I simplified everything. My focus became clear: Me, Gia, and Sanjay.
Over and over, I repeated those names like a mantra, grounding myself in what truly mattered.
I started setting boundaries—at work, at home, and within myself. I stopped overloading my schedule to accommodate others. I stopped being the “yes” woman for every extra task.
I let go of the guilt that came with saying no. And most importantly, I stopped believing that I had to be the matriarchal glue holding everything together at all times.
I also became more intentional about what I shared with my family. While they knew I was struggling, I realized that not everyone needed access to every detail of my journey. Their well-intentioned advice and support often didn’t align with what I truly needed. I wouldn’t go to my accountant for legal advice, just as I wouldn’t go to my doctor for tax help. In the same way, I needed to protect my energy and seek support from those who truly understood what I was going through.
Finding Peace in the Present
Today, I look at my life and see that I have everything I need.
No, my journey didn’t follow the path I had envisioned. My family doesn’t look like the picture I once clung to so desperately. But I am content. I am fulfilled. I have my daughter, my husband, and the beautiful life we’ve created together.
Infertility taught me how to let go of what no longer serves me.
It forced me to break free from the external expectations that once dictated my happiness.
It showed me that joy isn’t something that comes from checking off a list—it’s something that is cultivated from within.
Embracing this unexpected journey wasn’t easy. It required unlearning years of conditioning—the deeply ingrained belief that motherhood had to look a certain way, that my worth was tied to my ability to conceive on a timeline that made sense to everyone but me.
I had to sit with the grief, the anger, and the gut-wrenching sense of loss that came with every failed cycle. I had to learn that taking a step back wasn’t giving up; it was reclaiming my power. And slowly, I began to see that my happiness wasn’t held hostage by a number of children or a rigid life plan—it was found in the love I already had, in the family that existed right in front of me.
My journey to acceptance wasn’t a straight path, but with every boundary I set, every moment I prioritized myself, and every time I let go of what I thought my life should be, I made room for something even greater: peace. Because true fulfillment isn’t about meeting expectations—it’s about embracing the life that’s waiting for you when you finally release them.
For anyone still in the trenches of this journey, I see you. I know how isolating, exhausting, and heartbreaking it can be.
But…
I also know that you are more than this struggle.
- You are allowed to pause.
- You are allowed to redefine what fulfillment looks like.
- And most importantly, you are allowed to find peace in the life you have now, even as you hold space for the future you dream of.
Because sometimes, the most unexpected journeys lead to the most beautiful destinations.
With love,
Flo