Ten years.

That's how long we waited.

My husband and I married in 2015 and it wasn't until our 10th anniversary months ago that I discovered I'm pregnant with our first child.

I'm in the middle of my second trimester at the time of writing this.

The reason we didn't get pregnant is that I had metastatic thyroid cancer that started when I was 18 and lasted until I was 31 years old. It's slow-growing and not fatal, although it can be if you don't take action.

I want to clarify this because I don't want it to sound too dramatic; my cancer is more of an inconvenience in my life.

Because of the procedures I had to go through, radiation being one of them, I was told to wait before having children. Year after year, my tests showed progression of my cancer biomarkers and so the waiting became longer and longer.

In my twenties, as I learned to understand more about my cancer, I kind of knew that this was going to happen. Especially when it started to spread to my lungs. My husband is aware of this before we got married, and yet he chose to marry me anyway.

After I turned 30 in 2022, I made big changes in my daily habits and lifestyle. Combined with conventional medicine, the changes became much more effective, and my cancer went into remission in 2023.

Now, we are pregnant.

Over the ten years of waiting for this moment, I've gained invaluable insights that transformed not just my circumstances, but who I am as a person. Today I want to share five of the most important lessons with you.

I struggled with jealousy, watching others achieve what I desperately wanted.

I've had negative thoughts, such as: why is it so easy for others to get pregnant while it was so hard for someone like me?

There was a time when I would avoid attending baby showers.

One particularly painful example was when my sister got pregnant about 7 years ago. She is three years younger than me, and the social environment I was in made everything worse.

In my home country 🇵🇭, it's common for people to ask intrusive questions like, "Why don't you have a baby yet?" or "How come your little sister already has a baby and you don't?"

As if it's a contest.

It took me a while to break free from this jealousy. But what truly helped was choosing gratitude over bitterness.

(Cliche, I know. But hear me out.)

Looking back, I realized that my husband never made me feel inadequate—like I was less of a person, less of a woman, or less of a wife because I couldn't give him children yet.

Much of the pain I felt was self-inflicted because I was dwelling on negative thoughts.

I started being grateful for what I had: my life, my profession, my education, opportunities for growth, the relationships I cherished, including my marriage. In my prayers, I constantly ask God to help me become more grateful.

Something that stuck with me is this:

When I started to find joy from within, it became possible to be genuinely happy for others too.

Going back to the example with my sister, I made an active choice to make her my role model instead of my rival. Instead of avoiding her or harboring resentment, I decided to learn from her experience.

I asked her many questions about her pregnancy journey and helped her whenever I could. What I discovered was that she had her own struggles too—something I hadn't seen when I was consumed by my own pain.

After her daughter was born, I kept asking how motherhood was treating her, how she was taking care of her baby, and what she was learning along the way.

This simple shift transformed my jealous energy into motivated action and improved our relationship in a meaningful way. We became even closer as sisters and friends.

She became my mentor. I’m learning a lot from her. In fact, I depend on her now more than ever as I am going through the crazy changes in my body.

From then on, whenever someone posted on social media about having a baby or shared a picture of their baby's ultrasound, I found myself celebrating with them, learning from them and being inspired by them.

This helped me prepare for when my turn would come, whenever that might be.

When my doctor once advised me to wait again after receiving disappointing blood work results during a routine cancer checkup, he probably saw the devastation on my face.

He said something that changed my perspective:

He was absolutely right.

So I moved forward while giving my best effort to improve and heal.

My goal became being healthy enough to bear my own child. I wasn't even expecting my cancer to disappear completely; I just wanted to be healthy enough. Just enough - so I don't have to do anything radioactive and be able to get pregnant safely.

I discovered how to wait with purpose, turning my waiting time into growth time.

Rather than letting those ten years feel like lost time, I used them strategically to learn new skills and expand my knowledge.

My husband and I moved to a new country, immersing ourselves in a different culture. During those years, I went to graduate school and earned my doctorate in physical therapy. I expanded my professional expertise, learning nutrition and lifestyle medicine and becoming board certified in it. I even started a YouTube channel—my husband's idea that I initially resisted.

Most importantly, I focused on improving my health.

After trying different approaches, I found success with plant-based nutrition. Whole grains, fruits, veggies, legumes, nuts and seeds where the foundation of my diet.

Instead of hiring a coach, I decided to get certified myself, and acquire a set of skills for life.

Nutrition alone wasn't enough, so I expanded into lifestyle medicine, which emphasizes healthy daily habits as the first line of intervention for chronic diseases: a plant-predominant diet, regular exercise, quality sleep, avoiding harmful substances, meaningful connections, and stress management.

As I practiced what I learned, I was able to put my cancer into remission with the help of my doctors and my own dedicated efforts.

And believe me when I say this:

I didn't do everything perfectly. But I gained the skills on how to be consistent and flexible at the same time - something I learned by applying the principles of lifestyle medicine into my own life.

During these waiting years, I also treasured my time alone with my husband, which made our relationship even stronger. We traveled to places I imagined would be difficult to visit with children.

Crucially, I knew that even if I didn't achieve my ultimate goal, I could confidently say that I had done everything within my power and control. This freed me from guilt and self-blame—I no longer saw myself as a failure.

Whether it happened or not, I knew I was giving it my absolute best.

I once read a post online that said,

Henry David Thoreau expressed a similar sentiment:

Looking back on those ten years of waiting, I have changed dramatically. In pursuing my goals, I became someone who transforms waiting into preparation and disappointment into wisdom.

In a conversation with a close friend of mine, she said that "You didn't just teach and practice lifestyle medicine. You became lifestyle medicine."

I became someone who loves to learn, apply what she learns and shares it to others. I developed the ability to forgive myself for mistakes and create boundaries to protect my inner peace. I became a better wife and grew more sincere in my prayers, drawing closer to God.

If my 18-year-old self could see me now, she would be proud and comforted, knowing that despite the challenges ahead, everything would be okay.

I overthink a lot.

I tend to worry about far-fetched scenarios that haven't even happened yet.

Now that I'm pregnant, I catch myself ruminating over possible complications, even though everything is okay right now.

I'm also realistic about the consequences of my medical history. Even though my cancer is in remission, there are things I cannot change.

However, over the past decade, I've learned a powerful technique: naming my fears.

I once heard this on a podcast:

Articulate them, write them down, try to understand them and understand why you're scared of them.

Since it's often difficult to logic myself out of my emotional responses, putting a name to negative feelings helps me examine them more objectively.

Usually, this helps me realize, "Well, that's not actually true."

For example, while I worry about things that could go wrong in my pregnancy—a fear that many pregnant women share—I can step back and ask myself, "Why am I mulling over a problem that isn't even happening?"

Another fear I have is sharing this story before it's "finished."

I worry about what people might say if things go wrong. However, when I name this fear directly, I realize it's not valid. I know that some people will still find value in this story, so I'm sharing it anyway.

I have many more fears that I won't share publicly here, but the practice of naming them consistently helps me maintain perspective and move forward despite uncertainty.

Ten years ago, I couldn't have imagined the person I would become through this journey.

If you're in your own season of waiting—whether for a baby, a career breakthrough, healing, or any other deeply desired goal—know that this time doesn't have to be wasted time. It can be preparation time, growth time, and transformation time.

Your waiting has purpose, even when you can't see it yet.

I don't know what you're waiting for right now, but I have a feeling this story hit home for some of you.

If any part of my story resonated with you, I'd genuinely love to hear from you. Hit reply to this email. Tell me what you're going through or what you're learning. I read every response, and honestly? Your stories often teach me more than I could ever teach you.

This conversation doesn't have to end here. I’ll be waiting. (Hopefully not for another 10 years. Haha!)

Talk soon,

Grazelle 🌱

PS:

After sharing something this personal, a few of you asked how I actually built the sustainable habits that changed everything.

I still have a couple spots left for those FREE Health Habit Strategy Sessions I mentioned last week – where we'll create your personalized action plan and I'll debunk any health myths that might be holding you back. If you're ready to stop waiting and start building, just hit the button below: