We prayed for this day. Waited 4 long years, countless doctors appointments, tears, hopelessness, and picking myself back up to try again.

When you are younger, the fear of getting pregnant so easily is instilled in you. For some, cough*my entire family*cough, it is. But for us, of course it was the complete opposite.

2018 was a year of me. I was sick of trying, but still obsessively tracking my ovulation, temperature, and the baby making dance. I devoted that year to be 100% selfish and about my health and happiness because I felt like I had put my life on hold for so many years for various reasons.

I said yes to every opportunity of travel I could do and practically lived at the airport and out of a suitcase. I followed a timed nutrition meal plan, while I also allowed myself to splurge and have fun when with my friends. I worked out at least 4-5 times a weeks even while traveling. And to everyone it looked like I was just living the life.

But packed away in my suitcase were my staples: 5-6 different supplements that would rotate as I changed doctors and got new results from labs, a thermometer, ovulation tests, and cups to pee in because your girl was tired of getting pee on her hand from testing so often.

It was this year that doctors finally heard my desperation and took me out of their medical box and tested my hormone levels.

Past results had already discovered that I had endometriosis, I may not have a viable ovary, and the obvious, I stress too much. Which I had been focusing on “fixing” for 3 years.

But what was new this year was the discovery that my estrogen was basically non-existent and Dave had low motility. What should have been a thought of, “Welp. Let’s add it to the list of everything that is going wrong” was more of a glimmer of hope for me. Especially because my past test results came back WELL improved. So my thought was this is something we could fix with proper diet and supplementation.

I had already changed my diet to help combat the symptoms from endometriosis, also resulting in me getting in great health. But I added the following supplements that were prescribed by my naturopath (please talk to yours to make sure it’s right for you- every body is different): Vitamin D, Prenatal, Chaste Berry, 5HTP, B12, and my superfood shake was incorporated being able to eliminate 3-4 other supplements she would’ve prescribed.

In addition she had me following a “seed cycle” and testing my ovulation everyday the week before, during the expected, and after ovulation because it was never consistent (talk about pressure to hit a moving target). And Dave had his own regiment of supplements he had to take as well.

She was confident we would conceive no later than May (3 months from the appointment) and if not, call her in June for more testing.

Sadly, we didn’t conceive despite the consistent diet, supplementation, and tracking. So of course depression hit again. An all too familiar feeling I would get each month after seeing a negative test result.

My family reunion in Hawaii was coming up in October so I had something to focus on, staying healthy so I could look and feel my best as I frolicked the beaches in my bikini with a drink in hand forgetting my worries. I wasn’t planning on going, but decided last minute, thanks to constant pressuring from my dad and a deal I couldn’t resist.

Still not pregnant, my doctor pushed me to make an appointment at the fertility clinic to get the ball rolling even faster. They instructed me that upon my return and immediately following my next missed period, to come in for more tests and to start the fertility process.

I was still tracking and popping vitamins like they were going out of style in hopes that my body would take just a little longer for science to do it’s thing. And I realized 2 weeks before I was supposed to depart to Hawaii that there was a good chance I would ovulate while on vacation. How typical, right? Not really, because it was a year of travel for us, so people saying “of course it happened on vacation when you were relaxed” really upsets me. But I wasn’t going to give up hope and I will not credit the “relaxed” vacation to the conception.

I fought tooth and nail to get Dave to join me on the trip. He wasn’t planning on it because he really loves what he does and didn’t want to leave his patients for 5 days. Plus we were just hit with the reality of how much it was going to cost us to continue to move forward with the fertility clinic. But I stayed stubborn and won the battle- thankfully.

Packed in my suitcase was the all too familiar ovulation strips, cups, and my pill case of vitamins. We even made sure to cook as many meals as possible at home to save money and eat healthy while there allowing me to stick to my plan.

We did what we needed to do every day. Fun? Stressful? Felt like work? All of the above. If I’m being honest, it was anything but relaxing- for me anyways.

On our reunion we had daily plans. My favorite day by far and most emotional was the day we went to the Royal Birthing Site. This was where the Royal Hawaiians with pure blood (if you did anything illegal or immoral like participate in killings during war you were deemed un-pure. Sorry to the bloodline of King Kamehameha), you were to give birth here.

As they were telling us about this sacred land that is only accessible by private tours with Native Hawaiians- we learned of how our people tracked the sun and equinoxes for farming, the stars, and how the women were catered to during birth. All the tribal leaders would be present and they showed us how they worked with the land and the spirits to help deliver safely and with ease by the way of gravity and one special birthing rock. Powerful not only as a Hawaiian, but as a woman on a mission to conceive.

I will never forget my Aunt coming up to me and putting her hand on my stomach to pray while I was touching that same birthing stone saying a little prayer. Which was equally cute because she was just newly pregnant herself (remember, my family is VERY fertile). Many of my Hawaiian family had already been non-stop praying for Dave and I, especially starting on day one of the reunion when we finally saw each other in person. So it wasn’t odd for her to walk up to me to pray for us while I touched the sacred rock that connected me back to my ancestors. But all too quickly and almost as instantaneously as she touched my stomach, she looked at me and walked away.

3 weeks later, back in Washington, my body took a turn and what I thought was the flu but also was doubting it because I rarely get sick, and I also chalked it up to it might be stress knowing I had to call the fertility clinic to make my next appointment that same day. But, my period was two days late, which is nothing new in my book.

Acting in my robotic ways, I grabbed the one of the last 4 pregnancy tests I had out of the bulk pack I had purchased off of Amazon and proceeded to check. To my disbelief, it turned out our prayers were answered. Head spinning, I insert all of the stats I knew of into my newly downloaded pregnancy app.

The day we conceived? October 14th. The day we went to the Royal Birthing Site.

My estimated due date? July 7th. My heavenly Uncle’s birthday who EVERY time he would see me, without fail, would give me words of encouragement that mine and Dave’s day of being parents would come.

When my family started to find out, my Aunt immediately reached out in a blubbering mess telling me about when she came up to me at the birthing site.

She explained that as she prayed for my womb to open, as she has done many times in the past, this time she had a loud yelling in her head that shook her to her core saying, “it’s already done.”

So with a little bit of science and my body finally adapting to the positive changes, and a little bit of magic- our prayers had been answered and we finally beat our odds.