Our story began long before our fertility journey — my husband and I met in elementary school, became best friends in middle school, and later, high school sweethearts. We ventured into a long-distance chapter during college, then found our way back to each other as graduation approached.

A fairytale of sorts 🖤

But Lil Fire & Co. is inspired by what came after — the journey it took to meet our first son, Aiden, whose name means ‘Little Fire,' and the path that led us to our second, ‘& Co,' due May 2025. ‘& Co' represents not just this baby, but the possibility of future journeys — whether our own or those of others walking this path.

We got married at 29 years old and started trying for a baby at 30. After a year of trying — and reading that 90% of couples conceive within that timeframe — we pursued fertility testing. Countless blood tests, ultrasounds, and diagnostic exams later, we were left with a frustrating diagnosis: “unexplained infertility." No answers, no clear options — just the immediate push toward fertility treatments. It was heartbreaking and deeply frustrating to feel like my body wasn’t capable of something I had dreamed of for as long as I could remember.

But after years of unexplained health issues — complex migraines, random allergic reactions, even an anaphylactic episode — I had a gut feeling that my body wasn’t in an ideal state for conception.

Instead of diving straight into treatments, I turned to a nutritionist, determined to heal from the inside out. Together, my husband and I immersed ourselves in functional health and holistic healing, leading to intentional lifestyle changes, a deeper commitment to self-care, and a strong desire to cultivate overall well-being and balance, for both of us. Patience, self-care, and resilience took on new meaning, and over time, I grew stronger — physically, mentally, and emotionally. But despite all the effort, the months continued to pass without a positive test.

Hoping for a breakthrough, we pursued four cycles of Clomid and two rounds of IUI, each one ending in heartbreak. With every failed attempt, the weight of uncertainty grew heavier. We eventually made the difficult decision to move forward with IVF — our next hope in a journey that had already tested us in every way.

Through it all, I stayed rooted in holistic health and nutrition — committed to supporting my body from the inside out and creating the most nourished, balanced foundation possible for new life. By the time we reached IVF, I felt stronger, healthier, and more grounded than ever before. And then, after exactly two years of trying, and just days before starting our first IVF cycle, I found out I was pregnant. We’ll never know for sure how this time was different or why then—but I truly believe that prioritizing my overall health played a powerful and meaningful role in optimizing my body for spontaneous conception.

Fittingly, we discovered our little poppy seed-sized miracle on Mother’s Day. Nine months later, we welcomed our son, Aiden, whose name means “Little Fire." When Aiden turned one, we started trying for our second baby, hopeful that this time would be different — that my body would “know what to do." But once again, month after month, the familiar cycle of hope and heartbreak repeated itself. Then, after 21 months — almost exactly like before — and just days before starting IVF, we were shocked and overjoyed to see a positive pregnancy test — another little miracle arriving when we least expected it.

Each pregnancy journey was an emotional rollercoaster — filled with ups and downs where the battle between hope and hopelessness was relentless and consumed every part of me. Each month felt like rolling the dice — hoping and waiting to see if the stars would align and luck would finally be on our side.

Through it all, I deeply valued every conversation, every prayer, and every bit of love and encouragement from my support system. Yet, a quiet loneliness lingered — eased only by the stories of others who had walked a similar path. In their words, I found perspective, a sense of community, and the bittersweet comfort of a shared struggle and experience.

If you're reading this and can relate, please know this: it is not your fault, your journey is your own, and no two paths to parenthood look the same. It’s okay to feel lost, to grieve, to question why it’s so hard. But no matter where you are in this process, know that finding the support you need — when you need it — is just as important as holding onto optimism. Equally essential is tending to your well-being — discovering the strategies that help you cope and the rituals that restore you — as this is vital to becoming the strongest, healthiest version of yourself, one day, one month, one cycle at a time.

There is always light at the end of even the darkest tunnel. Focus on your healing, even while you are hurting. You are incredibly strong, brave, and resilient. And above all, you are not alone—even when it feels that way.