After three transfers and a second miscarriage, it felt like my world was collapsing. I remember sitting in the clinic, realizing the only people I truly wanted to talk to were the nurses—because they understood. They spoke the language of IVF. They didn’t need explanations. They just got it.

Outside of that space, I felt incredibly alone. I didn’t know anyone who had walked a path this heavy. The people around me cared, but they didn’t know what to say—and I didn’t know how to explain it. And in that moment, something shifted.

I realized what I was craving wasn’t just support—it was connection with someone who understood this world without translation. Someone who could sit in the hard moments without trying to fix them.

That’s when Waiting Room Bestie was born.

I knew I could be that person for someone else. Someone who gets it. Someone who listens. Someone who helps you feel a little less alone in one of the hardest journeys you can walk.

Hi, I’m Cortnee. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a mom. It wasn’t just a dream—it was something I always imagined would be part of my story. Instead, my husband and I found ourselves on an infertility journey that has now stretched across six years. Six years of hoping, waiting, grieving, fighting, and finding the strength to keep going when it felt impossible.

This path is unfair. There is no way around that truth. But one of the most beautiful things I’ve discovered through the heartbreak is the incredible women I’ve met along the way. Women who understand the silent tears, the endless appointments, the fear, the hope, and the courage it takes to keep showing up.

So if you’re here, I want you to know you don’t have to walk this road alone. Let’s be besties. Let’s meet in the waiting room, in the hard moments, and in the victories too. Let me be someone who sits beside you, cheers for you, and reminds you that your story matters. This journey may be unfair, but together, we can carry it a little more lightly.