Starting a Business and Starting a Family: Entrepreneurship and IVF

Big life transitions have a way of happening all at once, don’t they? Sometimes that’s by chance, sometimes design, and in this case it’s a bit of both. I’ve always wanted to be a mother and a piece of me has always wanted my own business, but I did not expect those things to coincide with one another quite like they have.

I spent most of my twenties in New York City working for private families, helping to raise their kids and manage their lives. It’s something I’m good at. I made a career out of supporting other women and helping them navigate the challenges of rearing a family in NYC. During this time I met my husband and we married several years later. We knew we wanted kids of our own but weren’t in a huge rush. We were enjoying our lives together as a couple and were young and healthy, for all intents and purposes.

After about a decade of nannying, personal assisting, and household managing, I was ready for a change. I wanted to pivot to a path that would allow me to help lots of women and families, rather than just one at a time. While still working full time as a nanny and household manager, I began exploring how to start an organizing company and what that would look like for me. I also decided it was time to start trying to have my own children. Clearly my internal alarm clock was ringing like mad! 

In 2018 I went part time with my household management/nannying gig and turned my main hustle into my side hustle as I tried to make Sort of Space a legit thing! All the while I was peeing on a stick every month with nothing to show for it. It was a strange experience. In one aspect of my life I felt like I was moving forward in a big way, and in another I was completely stunted. 

An event for my business! A bright moment when things were tough on the fertility front.

The beginning phase of trying to start a family is fun and exciting, but after it doesn’t “just happen” for you, it becomes clinical, scientific, and frankly, exhausting: ovulation predictor kits, apps to track every twinge and feeling within your body, stats that tell you how long this process should take for “normal, healthy couples”, and the anxiety that perks up each month you fall further behind. 

But I wasn’t pregnant. And that fact was nearly all consuming, but luckily I had something else to focus on: my business. I had to learn how to form an LLC. I had to open a bank account. I enrolled in programs to further my skill set and network with other people working in this space. I had to come up with how to identify myself in an expanding market. I had to start posting on social media! The punch list that comes along with starting a business kept my mind occupied enough to not spiral when pregnancy wasn’t coming, and thank goodness for that because it was about to get a hell of a lot harder.

Ultimately after unsuccessfully trying to conceive, my husband and I were directed to seek fertility treatment. So much for being young and healthy. The news was devastating, and honestly still is. The next few months were spent dipping in and out of depression, researching options, considering finances, and building a support network. It was hard to talk about. This is not the conversation you want to have with friends and family about pregnancy. You want to tell them you ARE pregnant, not that you probably won’t get pregnant without major medical intervention, if we’re lucky. Even typing that makes me emotional.

At this point it would have been easy to shut down entirely and stop working on the business. It seemed so futile comparatively. But every time I needed a win, I would work. Creating order in spaces brings me a sense of calm. Helping other people find balance in their lives is rewarding and reminded me of all the value I have to offer as an individual, and during those hours I wasn’t just a woman who can’t get pregnant. When the fertility treatment statistics and price tags were overwhelming, sourcing the latest organizing products for an upcoming project was not. When I feared I’d never have a baby of my own, I nurtured the thing I was creating at the time. It gave me a sense of control when I had none.

My organized and overwhelming medication station. Lots of daily injections and pills, which needed to be kept track of and taken diligently.

Eventually, I found myself a good therapist and an amazing fertility clinic. We took some time to hash out the endless slew of insurance and financial details and set a timeline to begin the intense process of in vitro fertilization. Thankfully, we happen to live in one of the five, yes, FIVE states out of the 50 in the country that require insurance coverage for IVF. Even with that benefit, the out of pocket costs are still supremely expensive and the financial component adds a whole different layer of stress and anxiety to the process. (Despite the financial strain on this path toward parenthood, I am extremely aware that even being able to consider this option is a complete privilege. There are plenty of people who desperately want to conceive and are precluded from the benefits of reproductive medicine.)

The summer of 2019 was a doozy. IVF treatment requires an exacting schedule of injections and pills, sometimes daily doctors visits for blood work and monitoring, more trans-vaginal ultrasounds than I can recall, anesthesia, surgery, bruising, bloating, and so many tears. A series of very specific steps all have to go right in order for IVF to work, and each hurdle is accompanied by its own set of panic, anxiety, hope, and waiting. The waiting is excruciating. 

Although it may seem counterintuitive, putting organizing projects on my schedule helped. It would reign in my focus and reactivate the creative, problem solving side of my brain. When those skills were flourishing, I felt good. But, I also felt guilty (still do) that I wasn’t “absolutely crushing it” with a jam packed calendar of projects and making my business my number one priority. I felt like an imposter who wasn’t doing the hustle right. But because of IVF, some days it was hard to do anything at all. The experience was physically and emotionally grueling. Despite that, I completed some projects of which I’m extremely proud. The business was growing, but it was a steady, humble growth, and honestly I think that’s what I needed. 

Before heading into the embryo transfer procedure. Absolutely terrified. Full of hope.

After a series of ups and downs, a few reorientations (what do you mean our doctor left the practice?!), setbacks (hello, allergic reaction to medication), and an enormous amount of hope, I ended up pregnant. I still have trouble saying that aloud. As I write this I am entering my third trimester and it still feels so fragile. 

Pregnancy after infertility doesn’t come in with a cacophonous celebration. The road to get here was filled with too many devastations and deep griefs. Instead, it’s ushered in with a delicate optimism accompanied by a continued fearfulness. It’s a constant holding of breath. It’s trying to harness the easy joy other pregnant women without fertility problems seemingly exude, and believe it in myself.

Fertility issues feel so singular and isolating but are actually quite common. Despite that, it’s hard not to feel alone. I think that’s because you can have the same type of issues as someone else but not have the same outcomes. Treatment is a gamble. There are no guarantees. Infertility is a club you never wanted to join, but I’m discovering it’s a big-ass club and finding support in other people’s experiences can help. That's why I wrote this.

Now, I am entering a new realm of a woman trying to figure out her shit while running a small business and about to become a mother. I have no idea how this next chapter of my life will look but I’m excited to grow both my business and my family. I will also join the ranks of those city living folks who have a baby, and stay put in their one bedroom apartments! And let me tell you- THIS is an organizing challenge. But definitely the best one I’ve ever had.