One Step at a Time: Kayla’s Path to Parenthood

After marrying her best friend and spending two unforgettable weeks honeymooning in Dubai and the Maldives, Kayla returned home feeling full — of love, of joy, of hope for what would come next.

When they began trying to conceive, she believed, like many others, that pregnancy would follow quickly. But it didn’t. And in the quiet months that followed the high of wedding bliss, hope slowly gave way to heartache. Each new cycle brought a fresh wave of disappointment. At first, Kayla carried the weight of that sadness silently. She and her husband told no one, not even those closest to them. The hope of a joyful surprise announcement felt within reach, and letting go of that vision was its own kind of grief.

It wasn’t until nearly a year later that they acknowledged it was time to dig deeper. A stretch of appointments, testing, and weeks of waiting followed. Eventually, they received a diagnosis: male factor infertility, a severely low sperm count. Natural conception wasn’t impossible, their doctor said, but it would be extremely unlikely. IVF would almost certainly be necessary.

Living in Ontario, where one round of IVF is publicly funded, offered a sense of relief, but also came with a catch: a 14 to 18-month waitlist. Within that long-anticipated window, Kayla and her husband reached a major milestone: her egg retrieval. Which marked the close of one chapter, and the quiet beginning of another. Now, they wait again — this time, with a transfer on the horizon. Their journey isn’t over yet, but they’ve made it here. And at this moment, we honor that.

This path has tested every part of Kayla — emotionally, physically, and spiritually. And if there’s one thing she wishes she had done sooner, it’s this: She wishes she had opened up sooner.

For a year, she kept her pain private, believing it was the strong thing to do. But over time, she learned that strength isn’t about silence. It’s about allowing yourself to be seen — even in your struggle. Sharing turned out to be the very thing that has helped her healing, even in the unknown. Letting close friends and family in became more meaningful than she ever expected. It gave her space to grieve the vision she once held — surprising loved ones with joy — and brought the unexpected relief of not having to carry it all alone. Vulnerability became a form of strength.

In opening up, Kayla also found community. She began sharing their story online — hesitant at first, unsure of who might see it. But what she discovered was a space full of kindness, understanding, and connection — not just from friends, but from strangers walking a similar path. People who knew what it was like to wait, to hope, to break, and keep going.

And in those exchanges of stories, encouragement, and quiet solidarity, Kayla realized that while she cannot control the outcome of her fertility journey, she could still reclaim her voice, her strength, her sense of self. To anyone navigating the emotional rollercoaster of trying to conceive, Kayla offers this: Don’t keep it all inside. Sharing might feel like giving something up, but sometimes, it’s how you get your power back.

She also gently reminds others: fertility struggles do not define your worth. Wanting to be a parent is deeply valid, but it’s not your only life accomplishment. You are more than this one goal.

And for those wondering how to support someone walking this path, her advice is simple, yet profound: Ask. Learn. Be present. And don’t assume silence means someone is okay. If a loved one opens up, listen without fixing. Do your research. Ask what they need. Let them know you're walking beside them — even if you can’t fully understand. Because sometimes, the greatest gift you can offer isn’t a solution — it’s presence. It’s reminding someone they’re not alone.