In the beginning years of my marriage, my husband and I tried consistently to get pregnant, but to no avail, it never happened. I not only felt a deep disdain for myself questioning why my body wasn’t working, but I felt deep guilt because as a blended family, I already came with a daughter from a previous relationship. No one ever thought this would be an issue, given me having a child previously and him as well. He was the first one to go get tested and see if perhaps it was him who wasn’t producing the sperm count needed and when it came back that he was perfectly fine, it was my turn. 

My results came back with PCOS also known as Polycystic Ovary Syndrome which is a condition in which the ovaries produce an abnormal amount of androgens, male sex hormones that are usually present in women in small amounts and numerous small cysts (fluid-filled sacs) that form in the ovaries. I was also severely obese at the time which didn’t make getting pregnant any easier. I began to feel like I had to take ownership of everything dealing with my daughter because I wasn’t producing a child for him that he so desperately wanted. I’d pause in asking for assistance on anything dealing with her, despite the fact he never once said or showed that he felt that way. I was living in my head and acting out on feelings that I had created. 

You watch TV series or read books that often depict infertility as one big, soul-crushing shocker that you can so easily just get over. For example, in Friends, Monica and Chandler cry after receiving a phone call from their doctor – and move on to adoption before the episode is over. What a lot of people don’t know is the expense of adoption and the approval process let alone the fact of coping with not having your own. 

For many women, infertility is more like a flesh wound whose stitches keep ripping. Every month brings a new period or a negative pregnancy test, and even when you are already “expecting it,” it crushes your spirit a bit. Whenever a relative asks, “So – when are you two growing the family?” it feels like someone is poking at that fresh scab.

This phase can last years. If your funds and health permit it, you may be pushed towards one of the dozens of fertility treatments now available. And while modern families now have more options than ever, none of them is a safe bet.

Sometimes, the double line on the stick never appears. At some point, many women decide that it’s time to stop fighting it. And then the grief starts all over again.

When “Acceptance” Feels Like Giving Up

Current Western culture doesn’t like accepting negative answers. We have conquered space and the deep oceans, invented self-driving cars, and invented cures for diseases and accidents that should be deadly.

We accomplished all these things because, as a civilization, we believe in hard work and persistence. We keep trying despite adversity. If we try hard enough and set the pieces just right, we’ll unlock the puzzle.

Unfortunately, our bodies are not a code we can hack. Sometimes, we reach this point after investing the equivalent of a mortgage on failed IVF attempts. Others, the treatments are not even an option, and we are left to keep trying with the same old methods.

At some point, we need to accept that we have no fertility problems. We have infertility. More importantly, we are not giving up – we are accepting something that will allow us to begin healing.

Avoiding the Blame Game

Statistically speaking, when we can identify whose body is at fault, the causes of infertility are evenly split between men and women. In addition, at least 15% of cases are idiopathic infertility – that is, we don’t know the cause, and we don’t know which half of the couple needs to be treated.

So why is it always assumed to be the woman’s fault?

Culturally, the success of a pregnancy rests a lot more on the woman’s body. We are commanded to take our folic acid and avoid alcohol. A few decades ago, the simple pleasures of sports (marathons, horseback riding, weight lifting) were forbidden for women because they would impair our fertility.

Superficially, we have now surpassed this prejudice. Your husband won’t “return you” to your parents if you fail to provide him with an heir, and we no longer need to sneak into the Boston Marathon. And yet, according to a survey from 2018, 75% of people believe infertility is caused by “lifestyle choices” such as alcohol use, hormonal contraception, or past abortions.

There is no evidence for any of this, but people will assume the woman is at fault unless there is a very obvious diagnosis for the male side.

This places an immense weight on our self-esteem. It can inject a deep, dark resentment into a marriage. Dealing with the infertility journey requires both spouses to talk openly about their fears, preconceptions, and pain points.

This means your husband should not blame you for it, naturally. But it also means that you should not assume you are being blamed, and you should not blame him for societal assumptions.

Do you feel he wasn’t quick enough to correct someone who looked at you funny for ordering wine? Does he appear sad when his best friend shows pictures of his children? Talk it out. Don’t let it fester.

Feel, Grieve, Process

Accepting that children will not come is a full-blown grieving process. Much like losing a parent or our homes in a fire, we will have to surpass a cycle of deep anger, disappointment, and intense sadness.

These feelings will come in waves and under unpredictable cycles. It’s essential to claim the space to mourn the loss appropriately, in a way that gives you closure. That could include talking it out, attending grief counseling, or even wearing black for a while.

Much of this grief will be shared between you and your spouse, but it won’t necessarily be expressed similarly. You may be cycling through rage and bargaining while your other half finds a temporary lull in their feelings. Joy and grief may coexist within the couple and its members.

Reframe your Future Roles

After accepting that children won’t be in the picture, you may be staring at a calendar with much empty space.

This can be especially tough for high-achieving personalities, who take pride in having safeguards and estimations for their future. If you bought a home already, you might need to reassign the space you had planned to use. If you have “baby savings,” you can leave them for a rainy day or reinvest them in a completely new goal.

You will also need to re-examine some less obvious assumptions about your future. Your plans for retirement or your educational priorities may change at this point. You can adapt many of your motherhood ideals to nurture other children or act as a caregiver for others.

Eventually, this “restructuring” can take the form of a new degree, pets, a business venture, or embracing the Aunt Role. A cool, detached outlook may find a lot of “positives,” – but it’s okay if you are not ready to celebrate them yet.

Relearn Physicality

One of the least expected (and maybe the most pervasive) effects of infertility is how it can put us at odds with our own bodies.

It is common to feel betrayed by them as if they had failed to do something they were supposed to be designed for. Sometimes, women develop a toxic relationship with their periods following years of hormonal treatments and monthly dashed hopes.

If you and your spouse have been trying to conceive for a long time, you will also need to rediscover non-procreative sex. Once you no longer have to chase a fertility window every month, it will be up to one of you to initiate physical intimacy for the sake of it.

Here, you can open the door for a lot of experimentation, even rekindling a mature passion.

Final Thoughts

Moving from “trying to get pregnant” to accepting that it won’t happen is a long and challenging process. In some cases, it may be necessary to protect your relationship and your mental health.

It feels much like losing a loved one: the pain may be unbearable at times, and I’d love to tell you it gets easier with time, but the truth is most of the time it doesn’t. See no one mentions how it can ruin a relationship or self-worth for that matter. What does get easier is learning how to cope and perhaps accepting a reality that you didn’t think would exist. What I will say is that once I lost a significant amount of weight, my symptoms of PCOS changed and I started getting my period on a regular basis which gave me a glimmer of hope that moving forward with producing seemed much more plausible than before. Having newfound hope, gave me a better attitude and openness to going down that road again and see once you have hope, you begin to have belief, and with the power of believing anything is possible. 

To all of the women who may have lost their hope, who tried every avenue possible, who may have stumped the doctors as to why it wasn’t happening, my heart is with you and I hope that one day you will have the desires of your heart. I send my love, but most of all I wish you peace.