Hi, I’m Leila
There’s a before and after when infertility crashes into your life.
Not because it breaks you.
But because it introduces you to a version of yourself you didn’t know you’d need.
I met her in 2016.
She was gutted. Angry. Unraveled.
Grieving a future she hadn’t even lived yet.
I was supposed to become a mother.
Not a warrior. Not a medical case. Not a statistic.
But life had other plans.
And somehow, I didn’t disappear in the grief.
I just got quieter. Wiser.
And more real.
The grief didn’t come in neat stages.
It came in waves—unpredictable and wild.
One moment I was managing.
The next, I was unraveling in a bathroom stall, ambushed by a pregnancy announcement.
Joyful fantasies about pregnancy, birth, and family were replaced by jealousy, anxiety, and a kind of silent despair no one seemed to know how to name.
Like so many, I spiraled into an identity crisis—
Who am I if I can’t become a parent?
And if I do… will I even recognize myself on the other side?
The physical toll of treatment protocols, the emotional exhaustion, the near disappearance of my social life…
It all stacked up until I no longer recognized the woman in the mirror.
The medical world gave me stats and scripts—
But not presence. Not care. Not soul.
And my partner, who loved me deeply, was grieving too.
We were both flailing.
Two ships, adrift in a fog we never asked to enter.
Infertility didn’t just hurt my body.
It cracked open my past.
Decades-old trauma came roaring forward while my mind spun into a future I couldn’t control.
There were moments I thought,
“This can’t be normal. This can’t be just me.”
And that thought saved me.
Because it sent me searching—not for answers, but for gentleness.
I wanted to stop surviving and start living again.
I needed more than coping—I needed compassion.
Real compassion.
The kind that sees pain and stays.
The kind I had to learn to offer myself.
That shift didn’t erase the grief.
But it softened it.
And it gave me the strength to keep going—
Through more IVF, more uncertainty, more unknowing.
But now with breath. With dignity. With a glimmer of joy.
Over time, that glimmer turned into a mission.
Today, I support individuals, couples, and groups through infertility’s deepest questions and life’s inevitable uncertainty.
I don’t offer empty promises.
But I do offer this:
A space to tell the truth.
A path toward real connection.
And the kind of healing that doesn’t require you to perform strength before you’re ready.
And yes—this space is for everyone.
Women. Men. Those beyond the binary.
Pain doesn’t discriminate.
Neither does this work.
Our path to parenthood wasn’t linear.
It was long. Brutal. Tender.
And it changed me forever.
Over six years, we endured eleven rounds of IVF.
Some with my own eggs.
Many through egg donation.
All of them laced with hope, heartbreak, and deep soul reckoning.
We walked through miscarriage.
We grieved what never had the chance to grow.
And in early 2022, we said: One more try. That’s it.
Nine months later, our daughter, Maëlle, arrived.
Not just as a miracle—
But as a living embodiment of every sacrifice, every no, every moment we kept going when it would’ve been easier to stop.
My Professional Credentials
For the past eight years, I’ve been walking alongside people impacted by infertility—
Four of those years in a professional therapeutic role.
I’m a Certified Compassionate Inquiry® Practitioner, trained directly by Dr. Gabor Maté.
I’m also certified in Positive Psychology and hold a Master’s in the Psychology and Neuroscience of Mental Health from King’s College London.
My work is informed by evidence, yes—
But also by experience.
I’m not speaking from theory.
I’ve lived what I now help others move through.
I’m a member of the Positive Psychology Guild (UK) and the International Association of Positive Psychology Coaches (US), but titles aside…
What I really offer is this:
A space to stop pretending.
A place where your grief doesn’t need to be cleaned up.
And a process that helps you find clarity, strength, and meaning in the midst of it all.
We’ll work together—
Not just on your present pain,
But on the story behind it.
On the patterns, the shame, the emotional whiplash no one talks about.
This is not just about getting through infertility.
It’s about coming home to yourself inside it.
Positive Psychology Practitioner
UK Positive Psychology Guild
Compassionate Inquiry® Practitioner