On a cold night in New York City, I sat next to a fire on the rooftop of a building overlooking the Empire State Building. The fresh crisp air eaten up by the warm flames made the soft cushioned benches the perfect spot to enjoy the company of a friend. As we marveled over the unique drinks and cozy setting the conversation veered off in the direction of the unknowns. At 38 years old, the unknowns carried twice the weight that they did in one’s twenties to early thirties. At a time when many in my age group are getting divorced, having their third and final child, or getting another promotion at their job, my unknowns felt heavier than ever. I had decisions to make and many of these decisions had deadlines.

“You’d make a great mom.” (said with an undertone of pity) -Random person you barely know

“Your chances drop by more than half once you reach 40.” -Google and every fertility website

“You’ll meet someone. Why don’t you wait a bit longer.” -the unreasonable voice from beyond

“Don’t procrastinate if this is something you really want.” -loving family

“Maybe this is happening to you because you didn’t forward that email to 10 people back in high school.” -me

The most comforting part of that night, besides the medium rare chateaubriand steak that my friend and I shared over drinks, was that she understood what I was going through. She was knee deep in her own fertility decisions as well. As college roommates turned lifelong friends, our conversations often centered around what trip we were going on next, group Halloween costumes, or our new eating or workout plan. Then Bam! You wake up one day and ask yourself how the new topic of conversation is how many eggs they were able to retrieve after you made the scary and expensive leap of faith to book that appointment with a fertility doctor. The one doctor whose report could change the trajectory of your future life plans.

As I sat at my desk at the end of the workday I finally made the decision to make that appointment for myself. No matter the outcome, the one KNOWN that will remain is that I was brave enough to take that first step alone.

For a life worth living is one that is perpetually lived outside your comfort zone.