A New Chapter in Life & Legacy
Sometimes, what we lose makes space for something greater.
In just a few weeks, I’ll be stepping into a role I never expected so soon—Grandmother.
As I prepare to move (temporarily) to Hawaii to support my daughter and welcome my granddaughter into the world, I find myself reflecting deeply on legacy, alignment, and what truly matters.
Because the truth is—this moment didn’t happen by accident.
The freedom to be here. The ability to move with ease. The gift of stepping into this season fully present.
It all happened because years ago, I made the decision to intentionally design a life that feels just as beautiful on the inside as it looks on the outside.
But what’s even more profound about this moment is its full-circle nature.
The Dream I Had to Let Go Of
A year ago, I was grieving.
For over a decade, I fought severe endometriosis and uterine fibroids, desperately trying everything—medical water fasts, holistic treatments, alternative therapies—because my husband and I still held onto hope.
Hope that maybe, just maybe, I would one day get to carry another child.
But in those final years, my body told a different story. My uterus had become so enlarged that my doctors said it was the size of a five-month pregnancy.
Strangers would stop me and ask, “When are you due?”
And every single time, it cut deep. Because the one thing I wanted—the thing I had prayed for—wasn’t happening.
No matter how much I tried, how much I fought, how much I believed… my body had other plans.
And eventually, I had no choice but to face the one decision I never wanted to make.
In the fall of 2023, I scheduled my total hysterectomy.
The irony? My surgery was scheduled on the birthing unit of the hospital.
I was wheeled in, past newborn bassinets, past nurses prepared to cradle babies, past the same hallways where mothers would be holding their miracles for the first time…
And I was there to say goodbye to the possibility of ever holding my own again.
It felt like the cruelest joke life could play on me.
And yet—I had no other choice but to surrender.
So I did.
With my husband by my side, I let go. I grieved. I honored what was no longer meant to be.
But what I didn’t know—what I couldn’t have known—was that life had a plan I never could have imagined.
Because this past October, a few weeks before the one-year anniversary of my surgery, my daughter told me she was pregnant.
And in just a few weeks(!), I will be welcoming my granddaughter into the world.
The dream I thought I had to let go of… came back to me in a way I never expected.
This is the part we don’t talk about enough when it comes to flourishing.
It’s not just about growth and success. It’s about surrender. Trust.
Believing that even when life doesn’t go as planned, beauty still finds its way in.
What Does Alignment Look Like for You?
So I want to ask you:
💡 What are you holding onto that might be keeping you from something even greater?
💡 Where is life asking you to trust instead of control?
If anything, this experience has reinforced something I believe to my core:
We get to choose alignment.
We get to choose a life that feels deeply fulfilling, connected, and rich with purpose.
So I want to ask you something:
What would your life look like if it was fully aligned with what matters most to you?
Maybe it’s…
✔ More ease—space to slow down, breathe, and truly live.
✔ More freedom—the ability to design your life your way.
✔ More connection—to yourself, your purpose, and the people you love.
Whatever it is, you are worthy of it.
Stepping Into Your Next Chapter
Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing more about how I can support YOU in stepping into a life of deep alignment, purpose, and flourishing.
Because if this season is teaching me anything, it’s this:
Even when things don’t go the way we expected, life has a way of surprising us in the most beautiful ways.
Your life is yours to design. And it’s never too late to step into a new chapter.
I’d love to hear from you—if you could design your most beautiful, aligned life, what would it look like?
With love,
Dr. Andrea
