Fundraising purgatory is real.

When a round feels almost closed, it’s easy to pause, to wait, to believe the wires are just a few days away. But that in-between stage — when the calls drag on, and no one says yes or no — is one of the most mentally brutal spots a founder can sit in.

This week’s story is from a team who learned the hard way that “momentum” isn’t something you wait on. It’s something you have to keep building, even when you think you're done.

We started raising our seed round in March. Our pre-seed had gone fast, and we had decent traction — 20+ clinics onboarded, strong retention, and MRR climbing steadily.

By early April, we had three firms “leaning in.” Two of them said we were through partner meetings. The third was asking for exclusivity.

So we paused outreach. Stopped pitching new funds. Spent two weeks chasing follow-up calls and legal prep.

And then… it all went quiet.

We’d built the whole plan around “we’ll close in April.” Team comp. Burn forecast. Product bets.

We weren’t panicking — not yet — but our confidence started cracking.

One fund ghosted completely. The other two kept saying “next week,” “internal discussions,” “you’re still top of list.”

That dragged on for six more weeks.

Meanwhile, we were stuck in limbo. Half-committed to a raise, half-considering a bridge. Should we cut burn? Hire ahead? Go back out to market?

I’d wake up every morning thinking, “Today might be the day we get the yes.” And by 5pm, I was reworking the cash flow sheet.

We were on a call with one of the funds. My co-founder asked a direct question: “Are you planning to invest or not?”

The partner gave a 3-minute answer that meant nothing. Just more hedging.

That night, we finally admitted to each other — we needed to move on. We'd wasted too much time waiting.

We picked five new funds and restarted outreach. But this time, we didn’t wait for soft signals to harden. We kept momentum going, treated every “maybe” like a no until proven otherwise.

We also started prepping a contingency bridge from existing angels — something we probably should’ve done earlier.

We’re back in motion. Two new firms are digging in. One of the original funds circled back (we said no).

We haven’t closed yet — but we’re not stuck. And more importantly, we’re back in control.

Waiting feels strategic — until you realize you’ve paused your whole company for a promise no on made.