Years ago, while we were in the crux of infertility treatments, I said to my husband, “with technology today, they can get anyone pregnant.” I know I said it out loud, and I really wanted to believe it, but deep down, I had so much fear. I feared that we would be that couple that they couldn’t get pregnant.
The fear started before we even started the first round of treatments. Before the diagnosis. The fear started with the unknown. We were at month 11 of trying after pulling the goalie, and my husband said: “If we aren’t pregnant after we get back from vacation, we should go get checked out.” I got angry. Angry because I feared that he was right and that there might be something wrong. That we were faulted in some way. That being an infertile couple made us unwhole and damaged. I feared people would think less of me. I feared feeling helpless. I feared not having the family I believed I was meant to have.
We went through the diagnostic process. I feared the pain every time a new test, or procedure, was scheduled. Once we got our diagnosis, then the fear of “Will we ever get pregnant” set in. Then when the treatments started, I was hopeful, but still fearful of the unknown. The fear of spending tens of thousands of dollars to get… nothing. The fear of what it would be like to give myself a shot, or that I wouldn’t be able to do it myself, or just the actual pain of the injection. Then I got pregnant. Every day there was fear that it would be the last day I would be pregnant.
What do you do with all this fear? It’s hard to say. I would say you should try to let it go, but it’s not easy, and the road of infertility is riddled with fear every step of the way.
What you can try to do to start to cope with the fear is similar to how you cope with infertility. [Come back soon for our Self-Care blog post]
You can find a community where you can share your ups and downs, your hopes, and your fears. Social engagement is critical in supporting our emotional wellbeing and a sense of happiness.
You can share this with your partner, but be careful not to be full of too much doom and gloom or, on the flip side, too much unrealistic hope. You can build healthy conversations about what you need in the way of support and/or space.
Guided imagery, or meditation, can help shape a more positive light on the situation.
Movement can be a freeing way to express how you feel.
Yoga asana can help you feel your emotions in your body and allow you to work through your feelings in a different way.
Journaling (whether you read it again or burn it) can be cathartic. Sometimes just putting pen to paper can help you process the fear.
Pranayama, or breathing techniques, have powerful physiological effects. When you reshape your breath, you can literally reshape your body and your mind.
No matter how you choose to process your fear, know that you are not alone on this journey. You don’t need to stay in the dark. You don’t have to share your story or your feelings on social media (or with every stranger you meet), but sharing your feelings of fear with your partner, your best friend, your parents, or a piece of paper can be very healing.