Yesterday I received an email from the IVF clinic back in Australia that my AMH count (a blood test that checks how many eggs you have) is < 2.5, which is basically non-existent. After reading the email, I went into the bathroom and cried for a few minutes, before pulling myself together. I didn't want to let anyone on the team feel my sadness. I've always joked that I haven't had kids yet because I would have thrown it off the balcony and gone to prison if so. I always said it jokingly, and to be frank, at 39 years old, I wasn't 100% sure I was cut out for motherhood. I still have a lot to do- building a global brand causes a lot of stress in the body, which isn't a great environment for growing a kid in. My plan was to freeze some embryos (my husband got snipped 10 years ago because I thought I didn't want kids back then, but we stored some sperm) later this year, then give this all a crack in a years time. Last year I had the same AMH test done, and my egg count was totally normal. To get this news, just after coming off the back end of being deathly sick from Graves disease for 4 months, (not to mention feeling a total failure about the success of my book launch and just having read an article someone had sent me about a brand who made $300,000.00 in 30 minutes by selling nude-coloured seamless sets) caused me to head straight to my car and bawl my eyes out after leaving the office. Yesterday I was able to kind of just keep shoving the news down and ignore it, but it certainly crept up on me today. As I sat there crying, I realised that we truly cannot know what it's like to be in someone else's shoes until we experience it ourselves. I've read about a lot of women within our community who'd been devastated because they couldn't conceive. I felt for them, but obviously didn't know how they actually felt. So to now know for myself, I completely realise how soul destroying that is. It also made me reflect on the fact that as a white person, I will never fully understand what it's like to live as a Black person in America. Or any other BIPOC person for that mater. And I never will. No matter how much empathy we try to have, it's impossible to truly understand what someone is going through until you walk in their shoes. Which in this reference will never happen, so it's truly best to just shut up and listen. I guess that's why the fellowship of 12-step programs work so well, as there is nothing more powerful than one alcoholic or addict helping another. Which brings me to my final point- as I sat in my car sobbing, I looked up and watched a couple who were both completely spun out, high on meth walk by (more like gyrate, skip, and stumble past). In that moment, I realised that God (whoever that may be) put that couple in my experience so I could be reminded of where my priorities must sit today. The only thing that matters in my life, is that I am clean and I am sober. Anything I put before that, I stand to lose. So in this moment, I will accept life on life's terms, although I can still cry and feel sad, I trust that I am exactly where I need to be at this exact second. Lastly, I will do my best to dig deeper to empathise with people who are struggling with things I'd seem to otherwise not understand.