Žana’s Story..
Žana is a very charming, cheerful, sensitive, and spiritual woman. All her life, she felt different — as if she didn’t quite belong to this world. Naturally, she gravitated toward the Arts, where she could express her soul without needing words — through painting, drawing, and many other forms. Only then did she feel complete. Her social world has always been very selective; she surrounds herself with only a few close people. As an introvert, she never felt the need to expand this circle. During one university presentation, while showcasing her artwork, she met Alex. Their connection was immediate and effortless. From the very first day, she felt that Alex was her soulmate — someone who completed her. Their relationship blossomed organically, nurtured in a shared space of artistic passion and mutual understanding. He made her feel safe — like home — and over time, he became family.
From Deep Love to Deep Disappointment
Since meeting Alex, Žana felt ready to start a family — a natural next step in a bond that already felt sacred. The timing seemed ideal: they had graduated, she could prioritize motherhood, and he could focus on his career. Within a year, they got married and began trying for a baby. But after five long years, filled with doctor visits, medications, and tests, Žana felt emotionally drained and defeated. The most painful blow came with the revelation that she and Alex might be genetically incompatible. It felt unimaginable — how could two people who were so right for each other be wrong biologically? Žana’s world grew smaller. She withdrew further into herself, choosing silence over support. She longed to return to art, the one place where her existence always made sense. But at home, things became increasingly difficult. Alex, though deeply loving, couldn’t manage the weight of their shared struggle. Feeling unheard, he confided in a female colleague — not out of betrayal, but desperation. Yet to Žana, this felt like the ultimate heartbreak. Their once-sacred relationship was now under threat.
Coming Home to Herself, One Gentle Step at a Time
Christine began to question everything: If I’m lucky enough to get pregnant again, how will I ever feel safe? Miscarriage can be a deeply isolating experience — you feel like there’s nothing solid to hold onto. But over time, she began to view the loss as an opportunity to reconnect with something larger — a moment to return to herself, to lean on sisterhood, and to revive her faith in the universe’s mysterious design. Today, she is slowly healing — physically and emotionally — and working to restore the relationship she has with herself. She downloaded this app as a gesture of hope: a step toward trusting her body again, remembering that her baby didn’t develop because something wasn’t right. Rather than blame, she’s focusing on rebirth. She still has time ahead to reconcile the trauma, but she’s determined to rise again. With the support of this community, she believes she can. “When we lose a baby, it’s easy to feel weak,” she says. “But how we view the world is something we can change. We move from victim to warrior. We stretch our arms wide to refuel — because the next climb is coming. And we are ready.”
