Growing My Family Blog - You're Not Alone

If you're on the path to growing your family, whether through navigating infertility treatments, exploring donor conception (sperm, egg, or embryo), embarking on the journey of adoption, or collaborating with an incredible surrogate, you know this road can sometimes feel like a marathon. A marathon with unexpected hills, winding turns, and moments where the finish line – holding your longed-for child – can feel incredibly far away. For me, personally, during our own long years of trying to grow our family, the idea of finally welcoming a baby often seemed like such a distant, almost unreachable goal. The sheer enormity of it all could feel overwhelming. I found that I needed to break everything down, to find smaller, more manageable milestones along the way, not just for practical reasons, but for my heart. I needed to be able to pause, breathe, and acknowledge, "Okay, we did that. That was a step. That was progress." And that, dear Friend, is what this is all about: the ...

Hey there Friend! You've made a courageous, love-filled decision to build your family through donor conception. You've navigated the initial questions, perhaps chosen your donor, and you're stepping forward with hope. And now, as you settle more deeply into this chosen path, a new kind of heart-work begins: not just accepting that this is your way, but truly, soul-deep embracing it. That little whisper, that thought, "Okay, this is our unique journey... how do I move beyond just knowing this is how we'll have a child, to feeling a profound sense of pride and joy in the beautiful, distinct way our family is being formed?" If that resonates, you're in the right place. This is about moving from intellectual acceptance to a full-hearted celebration of your family's special story. More Than Just a Path – It's Your Path This isn't just about the "how" of conception anymore, is it? It's about the "who" you are becoming as a fam...

Let’s talk about one of the quietest casualties of the family-building journey. It’s a loss that happens behind closed doors, a slow, creeping erosion of something that was once beautiful and easy. It’s a shift that can make you feel deeply disconnected from the person you love most, even as you are physically trying to be closer than ever. Let’s talk about sex. Remember when it was fun? Remember when it was spontaneous, a secret language between the two of you, a source of pleasure, comfort, connection, and intimacy? Remember when it was just about us? And then, the journey began. And slowly, insidiously, everything changed. Sex, once a source of joy, can become a scheduled, performance-based task, fraught with a level of pressure and expectation you never thought possible. It becomes another item on the "Project Baby" to-do list, wedged in between "take prenatal vitamin" and "call the clinic with Day 1." The bedroom, once a sanctuary for your partnership...

Hey there, Friend! It can feel impossible to hold grief and hope together, yet this is a reality for so many of us on the family-building journey. Perhaps you’re grieving a loss, a cycle that didn’t work, or a plan that shifted unexpectedly. At the same time, a small spark of hope may still linger — hope for a future child, hope for healing, hope for a different outcome. And it can feel confusing, even contradictory, to experience both. Grief is not linear. It doesn’t follow a neat timeline, and it doesn’t respect the calendar. Some days you might feel like you’re moving forward, and other days, the sadness returns unexpectedly. In GrowingMyFamily, many share that learning to hold grief alongside hope is one of the hardest but most powerful lessons of this journey. Feeling both doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means your heart is alive and fully engaged with the path ahead. You might notice these emotions showing up in subtle, almost invisible ways: a pang of sadness at a pregnancy announc...

Hey there, Friend! Appointments — whether they’re for bloodwork, ultrasounds, consultations, or check-ins — can feel like milestones. But for many of us, the moment we leave the clinic isn’t relief. It’s the beginning of a very different kind of emotional work. Processing what we just heard, what it might mean, and what’s next can feel overwhelming. You might be sitting in the car, trying to hold back tears, or maybe you’re on the subway, feeling strangely numb. Perhaps you’re trying to act normal at home while your mind keeps replaying every word the doctor said. Whatever it looks like for you, please know this: what you’re feeling is valid. You don’t have to have it all together right now. Why processing news is so complex It’s tempting to think that once an appointment ends, clarity arrives. But often, the opposite is true. News from a doctor or clinic can spark a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You might notice: Questions spinning in your head: “What does this mean for me?” “Am...

Hey there, Friend! If you’re in the middle of the two-week wait right now, I want to start by saying something softly and sincerely: this part is really hard. Not always in loud, visible ways. Not always in ways the outside world understands. But in the quiet spaces — the waiting, the wondering, the hoping, the bracing — this stretch of time can feel incredibly heavy. And if your heart feels tender, distracted, anxious, or stretched thin… you are not alone. So many of us in the GrowingMyFamily community know this space intimately. We’ve counted these days, too. We’ve searched our bodies for signs. We’ve tried to protect our hearts while still leaving room for hope. The two-week wait holds a very particular kind of uncertainty, and caring for yourself inside that uncertainty matters more than you might realize. On paper, two weeks doesn’t sound like very long. But emotionally, it can feel endless. This isn’t just waiting for a date on the calendar. You’re waiting for an answer that coul...

Hey there, Friend! If you’ve found your way here, there’s a good chance something in your heart feels tender right now. Maybe you’re just beginning to wonder why building a family isn’t as simple as you thought it would be.  Maybe you’re in the middle of appointments, waiting rooms, and decisions that feel heavier than you expected.  Or maybe you’ve been on this road for a long time already—carrying hope, grief, courage, and exhaustion all at once. Wherever you are today, we want you to know something gently and clearly: You are not alone. And you were never meant to do this by yourself. That’s where GrowingMyFamily begins. So… who is GrowingMyFamily? GrowingMyFamily isn’t just a website.  It isn’t just information.  And it isn’t just another place telling you what you “should” do next. At its heart, GrowingMyFamily is a community of people who truly understand the emotional side of building a family—because many of us have lived it ourselves. We are individuals and ...

Does it feel like your treatment cycle has staged a hostile takeover of your entire life? Between the early-morning appointments, the precisely timed medications, and the sheer emotional energy it all requires, it's easy for your "normal" life to get completely lost in the shuffle. But losing all sense of normalcy can make an already overwhelming process feel impossible. The goal isn't to pretend life is normal right now—it isn't. The goal is to find a sustainable rhythm that allows you to ride the waves of treatment without drowning in them. Weaving Treatment into the Fabric of Your Life Here are a few ways to find your footing when it feels like the ground is constantly shifting beneath you. 1. Protect Pockets of Normalcy You are more than your treatment cycle. It is so important to remember the other parts of you. Make a conscious effort to maintain one or two of your most important routines, even if they need to be modified. Is it your quiet morning coffee on ...

  You know what love feels like. You know the joy of a positive pregnancy test. You’ve held your child in your arms. You’ve built a family. And in your heart, there is a deep, beautiful longing to do it all again, to give your child a sibling, to complete the picture you’ve always held in your mind. You thought you knew the path. You thought it would be as simple as it was the first time. But it’s not. And now you find yourself in a strange and lonely landscape you never expected to navigate: secondary infertility. The grief and frustration of secondary infertility are unique. But there’s another layer to this journey that we don’t talk about enough: the silent, insidious storm it can unleash on your relationship. You look at your partner, the person you built your first family with, and you can feel a distance growing, a tension that wasn’t there before. If you are feeling this strain, if your home feels less like a haven and more like a pressure cooker, please know you are not al...