Every month, I hold onto hope.  

Hope that maybe this time, my body will cooperate.  

That maybe this time, the test will show two lines instead of one.  

That maybe this time, I’ll get to whisper the words I’ve been longing to say: “We’re pregnant.”

But month after month, it’s a no.  

A single line. A silent screen. A sinking heart.  

And still—I try again.

This month, that rhythm has paused. My fertility treatment is on hold, and I’m waiting for an appointment to understand what our next steps might be. The unknown is hard. It’s unsettling. But I’m learning to go with the flow, even when the current feels out of my control.

I share this not for sympathy, but for solidarity. Because behind every test, every cycle, every dashed hope—there’s a person. A story. A fight for care that sees the whole picture.

That’s why I’m campaigning to end BMI-based IVF discrimination. Because no one should be denied the chance to try, simply because of a number on a scale. Fertility care should be science-based, compassionate, and inclusive—for every body.

If you’ve felt this ache, this wait, this quiet grief—you’re not alone.  

And if you believe in fair access to fertility treatment, please sign and share the petition.  

Together, we can turn heartbreak into hope. 💚