I was 30 when I gave birth to my daughter. That was in 2005. But the year before I had all but given up after a good three years of hoping, anticipating, holding my breath as I would do another pregnancy test. Negative, always. Then of course, I would get my period.

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I talked to plenty of people about it. One person suggested I "imagine I'm a flower and when I'm being intimate, imagine the flower opening." I actually did do that. More than once. By that point, I'd give anything a crack.

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You might be curious why we didn't do IVF. Back in 2005 it simply wasn't on my radar. It wasn't very mainstream and it wasn't that accessible.

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In 2008, there was a horrific tsunami in Indonesia that left many children parentless. I was chatting with my then partner about the possibility of supporting one of those poor kiddos. Mere moments after that conversation, on a Tuesday night, I popped upstairs to use the loo - and because I'd had a couple of drinks and was a little tipsy, I decided to do a pregnancy test "just for the heck of it."

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I did the test, chucked it on the floor and went and got into my comfiest trackies before coming back to put it in the bin, only to see two solid lines! I freaked out. Yelled at my partner, who promptly went to the supermarket to get more tests. Each test delivered the same wonderful, most anticipated two lines.

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It was years later - probably even about a decade - when I pieced something together. A month before that positive test, I had done a liver cleanse. The kind you get from a health food store. It had a bunch of liver-support supplements while I was also avoiding gluten, dairy, meat, caffeine and alcohol. It was 2008 when I was diagnosed with Coeliac Disease, a condition which impacts the absorption of nutrients from food. Miscarriage and infertility are known effects. I'm sure that was only part of the equation, but for me personally, probably an important one.

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Looking back, I don’t see that time as a “fix” or a formula. What I do see is that my body was given a window - a period of reduced load, less inflammation, and more support, and that may have created the conditions it needed to conceive.

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The nervous system governs so much of this whole experience. When the body is in a state of chronic stress, it redirects resources away from reproduction, it simply doesn't feel safe enough to grow new life. I didn't know that then. I know it now, and I have spent years since understanding it more deeply and helping others navigate it.

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As I have already shared, I lived with chronic health anxiety. During my pregnancy, it was off the charts. I had panic attacks and really intensely heightened anxiety throughout. I knew it wasn't ideal but had zero tools in my toolkit to support myself. Those big surges of adrenaline, the fear, the worry and all the while, my precious bub was swimming in a pool of adrenaline and cortisol.

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I sometimes sit and wonder how things might have been if I had even known about the nervous system, let alone realised there were things I could do to support myself and my baby.

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So why did I choose to narrow in and focus on the soul mummas who are either in the process of becoming pregnant, or are already pregnant? Because I wanted that for me. Because I know how much value I can add to your experience. Because I don't want you to feel alone, or like the only way to come at this is through a clinical lens. Because not many of us are taught to be in deep relation with ourselves, and this particular season of life deserves that depth, more than almost any other.