"I remember the moment my husband and I decided to have kids. After 6 years of marriage, the puzzle pieces of our lives were finally falling together. I remember the two pink lines exactly two weeks later. I cried tears of joy. I planned to tell my husband, sister, best friends, mom, and in-laws… I let the love and attention wash over me. I remember his little heartbeat: quick and eager. He always measured 3 days ahead at every appointment. I remember the gender reveal. Blue dye stained my hands and my clothes for weeks. I remember his name. Cullen, after where my husband and I met.
Then I remember the pain and the phone calls. Every day for a week I called. Every day for a week I was told it was normal. I remember, they said it was normal. Then I remember the Emergency Room and then the hospital room. And suddenly, I was holding my lifeless, 18-week-old child in my arms.
In the months that passed I felt betrayed by my friends, by my body, and by God. I felt betrayed by the time that it had the nerve to keep ticking by. My desire to exist in a world where my baby could die, withered along with the condolence bouquets and my friendships. At some point you need to get over it, they said. So I put on a brave face and got over it. I got over it in front of my friends, my husband, my family, my students… But the second my body fell into my therapist's couch, I was not over it.
There were sessions with my therapist in those early months where I would just sit and cry. All the anger, shame, and pain came out and were received with no judgment. In those early months, only she knew how I really felt as she helped me navigate how and why my relationships changed, what was my responsibility and what was not, what was in my control and what was not.
2021 became 2022 we had yet to experience the two pink lines again. As friends and family announced their second and third pregnancies, I was trying to mourn my first while trying to achieve my second. “At least you know you can get pregnant” was a phrase I had stopped hearing in December as the reality of infertility was slowly taking away my hope.
Consistently being in therapy has given me a place to organize all the thoughts in my head and separate the helpful ones from the harmful ones. In one powerful session, my therapist helped me make the decision to take the next medical step in my journey to become a mother. So, My Happy Ending is yet to be determined, but my Healthy During is cultivated through therapy."~ Client
Infertility is a common medical condition that affects many couples trying to conceive. It can have a significant impact on a person's mental health, leading to feelings of sadness, anxiety, and frustration. Dealing with infertility can be a complex and emotional process, but therapy can play a crucial role in helping individuals cope and find ways to move forward. Here are some ways therapy can help individuals dealing with infertility:
In conclusion, dealing with infertility can be a complex and emotional process. Therapy can play a crucial role in helping individuals cope and find ways to move forward by providing a safe space to discuss feelings and emotions, helping navigate complex medical decisions, teaching healthy coping strategies, offering ongoing support and guidance, and improving communication and relationships. If you or someone you know is struggling with infertility, consider reaching out to a mental health professional for support.