The Shock of Infertility: How the Mind and Body Respond
One moment, I was dreaming of starting a family without question. The next, I was sitting in a doctor’s office hearing about egg counts, fertility odds, and treatment options. Suddenly, my future felt uncertain, and my body didn’t feel like my own. Questions flooded in—Why me? Is this my fault? What now? That moment marked the start of a journey that would challenge my sense of control and reshape how I related to my body and emotions.
I remember my first consultation at the fertility clinic—words and explanations blurred together, much like in the Peanuts cartoons when the teacher speaks and all the kids hear is “wah wah wah.” My nervous system was on high alert, struggling to process both information and grief. Learning to notice these reactions with gentleness, rather than judgment, became essential.
Small, practical supports became anchors. Having a partner or friend attend appointments, take notes, or record information helped when my rational brain went offline. Outside the clinic, movement and connection brought me back into my body—virtual yoga classes with a friend, and quiet time with my animals and partner, offered grounding and calm.
Infertility consumes your days. It isn’t just the treatments—it’s the constant “what ifs” replaying in your mind, making it hard to focus, relax, or enjoy other parts of life. This mental and emotional load can feel invisible to others, and exhausting to live with.
Coping isn’t about making difficult thoughts disappear—it’s about noticing them without being swept away. Using self-compassion, I began to treat myself as I would a friend: acknowledging pain, validating fear, and allowing space for grief and frustration. With ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) skills, I practiced observing my thoughts and emotions, then intentionally choosing actions aligned with my values—even when I didn’t feel ready. Support from others also helped lighten the weight, creating space for steadiness and hope.
As a science-minded person, I treated the journey like a “science experiment,” observing my body and emotions with curiosity rather than fear or judgment. This approach didn’t remove uncertainty, but it gave me a sense of agency. Paired with mindfulness and self-compassion, it allowed me to stay present, notice patterns, and take gentle steps forward even in difficult moments.
If you are navigating infertility, know that you don’t have to face it alone. Both joy and grief can coexist. Small acts of care, connection, and self-compassion can help you reclaim a sense of agency and resilience, even in the most challenging moments. I offer therapy and support for individuals and couples coping with the emotional challenges of fertility struggles. Reach out to schedule a session or learn more about ways to support your emotional well-being during this journey.
