A fertility activist, playwright, and screenwriter.

To learn more, visit SonharaEastman.com


To use art as a vehicle to break the silence surrounding black women and infertility.



Black women are twice as likely to suffer with infertility issues than our Caucasian sisters, yet we are less likely to seek medical attention or share our struggles. We must break down those SILENT walls through DIALOGUE. DIALOGUE creates RESOURCES. RESOURCES forms SUPPORT. SUPPORT leads to HOPE. Please do not walk this walk alone. SPEAK UP and know that WE ARE ONE.


Man meets Woman. Woman is younger than Man. Man already has adult children and a vasectomy from his Army days. Man gets a reverse vasectomy and proposes to Woman, making her life feel like a fairytale. They marry in 2012 on leap day and begin to plan for a family, only to discover that the road to conception is a rocky one.

False Alarm:

Shortly after our vows, I missed my period and my husband thought I was pregnant. I went to my OB/GYN, head held high, anticipating good news, but she stated, “You’re not expecting.” I went home slightly deflated, but unconcerned with the news. A few days later my cycle started and we were off to trying again.  

OB/GYN Blues:

I returned to my OB/GYN. I told her we’d been trying for nine months with no results. She said, “Let’s run some tests.” The results came in and I was declared healthy. She then requested that my husband reach out to the doctor who performed his reverse vasectomy to request a copy of his sperm analysis. His records were sent over and his sperm count was good. With nothing to diagnose, she put me on Clomid in hopes that it would increase my chances of conceiving. After three failed Clomid cycles, my OB/GYN said there was nothing else she could do.

Something New: 

My husband and I went to see a fertility specialist who ran several tests on me including a radiology procedure called HSG. During that process, she inserted a dye into my uterus in hopes of finding a blockage. As I lay on the table, womb flowing with dye, she said, “Sonhara, if I were to look at a textbook, I would see your anatomy; it’s perfect!” I was elated and returned to her office where she was unable to diagnose me. However, we both agreed that it was time to move forward with fertility assistance. She then recommended that I try IUI (Intrauterine Insemination) to increase my chances of conceiving. She also sent me to a nutritionist to come up with a healthy eating plan because she discovered that I had high insulin, which put me at risk for diabetes. I quickly changed my diet from soul food to low-carb, non-fried, organic everything. I ate like a bird in hopes of a successful IUI, but the first one failed. We decided to try a second time and that failed too. We were preparing for a third IUI when we learned that our doctor relocated out of state. 


We had a consultation with another fertility specialist at the same practice. My husband and I immediately felt comfortable with her positive outlook and wanted to move forward. The only thing I was disenchanted with was the fact that I had to undergo more testing. Soon after testing came a diagnosis of PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome). PCOS is a condition in which a woman’s levels of the sex hormone estrogen and progesterone are out of balance. It can cause extra hair on the face and body, irregular periods, depression, acne, high insulin, etc. The only indicator that I shared with PCOS was high insulin, and that was enough to get the ball rolling. I went back to the nutritionist and received yet another “healthy eating” plan. I took metformin for about a year and everyday it made me sick as a dog. During this time, I did FOUR more IUI’s and each one failed. With mounting debt and little resources, I decided I was done trying.


I happily poured my energy into other pursuits. I applied to grad school and was accepted at NYU, which resulted in me moving back to New York for two years. Going to school was a great escape from the rigors of fertility. I had no time to sit around and think about babies and failed attempts. I was busy writing, learning, and reclaiming my life.


After grad school, I decided to take more time to enjoy life. I traveled, got an apartment on the West Coast for business and workshopped my plays. In my eyes, everything was alright. Then I went to my goddaughter’s christening and the minister called me up front for prayer. He said, “God said it’s time for you to think about having children again.” I cried in front of the whole church, and I’m not an emotional person. Me and my tears walked backed to my seat and a relative whispered in my ear, “You will have your children when the time is right.” I continued to cry and quickly escorted myself to the restroom, because I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I stayed in there until I was ready to face the world.


I went to see an endocrinologist that I visited in my early stages of trying to conceive. We discussed PCOS and my high insulin level, which we had previously talked about at length. (For the record, he was never in agreement with the PCOS diagnosis.) He went on to examine me and asked if I was still eating healthy. I said yes. He walked me down the hall and told the nurse to take my labs (bloodwork). Two weeks later, he called me and went over the test results. He said, “Sonhara, I’ve felt this before, but I’m saying this to you now, it is my professional opinion that you do not have PCOS.” He went onto say that my insulin level was back to normal. He told me to make an appointment with my fertility specialist and share his findings. I did just that and I’m now preparing for IVF.