The Good Parts of Infertility
The Lesson Learned
Infertility is just one part of my story, yet it would be pretty easy to let it consume me. I’ve seen that be true of others around me (both friends and strangers on the internet). And the only advice I can think to give is this: it’s not all bad. In fact, most of it is pretty incredible. I know that may sound crazy, but hear me out.
The Journey
Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I am usually smiling, telling cheesy jokes, or petting dogs. I’m a glass-half-full kind of person. I think people are generally good. I’m optimistic about most things.
And while it’s been tough to stay positive during this three-year infertility journey, I try. Or my husband reminds me to be grateful for all that we have when I forget, which is probably daily at this point.
The other night, we were laying under the stars on our deck — my husband, Alex, our two dogs, Perry and George, and me. It was one of those perfect but all-too-fleeting spring nights in Texas when nary a tornado siren could be heard and right before the mosquitos descend.
While thinking about (and dreading) yet another doctor’s appointment scheduled the next day for my third platelet-rich plasma injection, I was interrupted by Alex: “Life is pretty great right now.” And I nearly punched him.
Pretty great?!
I almost responded, “Are we living in the same universe?” and then I stopped myself.
If I were to take the infertility part out of my story, he was right.
We have a relationship that’s almost sickeningly sweet (we were high-school sweethearts and we still like each other). We are an amazing team. I always let him have the last bite of ice cream and he gives me the pickle from the side of any sandwich.
Our home is beautiful and right across the street from Alex’s parents. My parents live just a few miles away, and we all see each other at least weekly. How many adult children can say they get to spend time with their parents every week? Like today, my brother came to visit and the whole family got together for lunch and gossiping about hideous home decor trends — just like old times.
We have two loving rescue dogs who make us smile more than they make us roll our eyes at their antics. Perry is 12 years old, yet still acts like a puppy. George, who just turned three, brings joy to everyone he meets. He has no bad days.
Alex and I are healthier — physically and mentally — than we’ve ever been. We made intentional choices this year to focus on food and fitness, which have made such a difference. Just tonight, I ate an entire bag of peanut butter filled pretzels (one of my few weaknesses in life) and the fact that my body is regretting this decision is a good thing. I’m no longer conditioned for snack food only.
Both Alex and I have successful careers that we love. We work with people we actually want to be around every day. We feel like we are building something greater than ourselves. How lucky are we?
Words won’t suffice to describe our friendships. Our friends in Dallas and across the state, country, and world have shown up for us and I am forever grateful.
Over the last 18 years, Alex and I have built this life together that is more than I could have ever imagined. And we did it ourselves. Yes, we’ve had family and friends caring for us along the way. But financially we have earned, saved, invested, and built a foundation for our future family. And emotionally we have learned, sought, struggled, and supported one another to build a relationship that will nurture our future family.
As Alex’s mom will tell you, it’s not easy being responsible for him. But as my mom would say, neither is caring for a queen.
If anything, infertility has brought these amazing qualities of my life to the forefront — because there’s no way I could get through this season without all of them: our relationship, our families, our colleagues, our friends.
So yes, infertility sucks. But it’s not all bad. And if you need a reminder to take stock of all the good in your life, this is it.
In My Toolkit
Looking for ways to practice finding the good things? I’ve compiled a few resources that have helped me find gratitude even amidst the grief.
Five-Year One Line A Day Journal (several options here, here, and here): A journal for non-journalers – you write just one single line per day, and then get to look back each year at what you wrote on year prior on that day. I like to record what I’m grateful for so I can remember more of the good than the bad. Friends know that this is my favorite gift to give. :)
Science Podcasts + Walks: When I’m feeling especially down about my body not doing what it’s supposed to do, I like to be reminded of all of the ways that human bodies (and minds) are amazing. A few science-y podcast recs for learning more about how we work and being grateful for all that we are able to do: Huberman Lab, Happier, Hidden Brain, and The Drive.
Screen Time Limits + Libby App: Doomscrolling while grieving is a quick way to spiral. Set boundaries so you won’t be able to get there. For me, that looks like setting a 15-minute limit on my favorite scrolling app (Instagram), and adding a better-for-me place to scroll instead (Libby — a free app to download books from your local library).
Yoga for Fertility: Another reminder to be grateful for the things my body can do, this gentle virtual class is part yoga, part group therapy, and part energy healing (which I don’t understand even one bit but hey why not?). I look forward to it every Sunday evening.
If you have found any of these helpful or have others to add to this list, I’d love to know!