With World Mental Health Day this month, it’s a timely reminder of the importance of prioritising your mental health when you’re going through infertility.
“I’m sorry, but the container of embryos you shipped over from Australia is empty.” Words that still haunt me today. We were in Canada for our first gestational surrogacy transfer when our fertility doctor broke the news. An hour earlier, we were full of hope. An hour later, we were living a nightmare. There are a handful of days in your life you wish had never happened. This was one of them.
When we returned to Australia, my mental health suffered. I was depressed and unable to sleep. I had also convinced myself that what happened was the universe’s way of saying we weren’t meant to be parents. Because transporting embryos is standard practice. People transport embryos, eggs, sperm all the time, whether they’re changing clinics or doing surrogacy. What happened was extremely rare. And we had travelled to Canada after years of failed IVF transfers and pregnancy losses, due to my thin endometrium lining. So I was already running on empty. Returning home, I realised how crucial mental health is. I’m not sure we would have continued with our fertility journey if we hadn’t started to prioritise it.

Infertility is incredibly painful. It’s all consuming. It takes a significant toll you on your mental health. And it often feels like a full-time job. It took us six years to have our son Spencer, born through gestational surrogacy in Utah, USA. But it was only after Canada that my emotional and mental health became a priority. Here’s what helped me during our journey:
Say no. Baby showers, gender reveal parties, first birthdays…These events can be torture. For me, baby showers always meant one thing: being surrounded by excited squeals and endless reminders of the one thing I didn’t have and desperately wanted. The one thing I was fighting so hard for. With my very good friends, I often went. But outside of those close friends, I didn’t. If you are not close to the person, I doubt they will miss you. They’ll have plenty of other people there to celebrate with them. And if you are close to them, as a good friend, they should understand.
Goodbye Facebook. After our second pregnancy loss, I deactivated my account. My Facebook news stream was dominated with pregnancy announcements and baby photos. I would spend too much time scrolling through social media, feeling awful. Limiting my social media was liberating.
Advocate for yourself. We’ve all heard it before, “You just need to relax.” It still amazes me that so people, with no medical expertise, continue to offer unsolicited advice. Comments like these are ridiculous and hurtful. It took me a while at first, but whenever someone would offer me “advice” I would point out the facts: Infertility is a reproductive disease, a medical condition that impacts millions worldwide. And if I was feeling extra bold: “I’m not sure how relaxed women in war torn countries are. These women fall pregnant every day” or “Relaxing is not a medical cure. Imagine telling someone who has cancer to ‘just relax’ and they would be cured. That would be hurtful and insulting. Infertility should be no different.”
Therapy. I found therapy extremely helpful. My therapist used a mix of Cognitive Behaviour Therapy and hypnosis. Given the impact infertility can have on relationships, I also know of many people who have found couple’s therapy a lifesaver.
Self-care. Do some things just for you, things you love doing. If I ever I need a self-care kick, I go for a long walk, binge a reality TV show, read a good book or have a massage.
And finally, it’s OK to not be OK. I think it’s imperative to acknowledge that infertility is incredibly painful. You will feel so many emotions like anger, frustration, jealously, sadness, and guilt…and that’s ok. It’s human to feel this way. Be kind to yourself.
Also featured in IVF Babble.
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