6 Unspoken Stressors of Trying to Conceive
Garrett Wood Kusmierz is founder and CEO of kozēkozē, a perinatal products company on a mission to reduce the mess and stress of motherhood so that moms can better bond with their babies.
When I became pregnant with my son, who is now 3, I was grounded in the same story my mom had. She would always say, "All I had to do was look at your dad and I was pregnant."
With our son, we thought about becoming pregnant—and we were. It was simple to conceive and, although I spent a lot of mental energy worrying about what could happen in pregnancy, my pregnancy was easy, healthy, and straightforward.
When we began trying for our second child, we went in with the mindset that it would be easy. The first six months of trying, we tracked ovulation loosely and we weren't very stressed because we had our own wedding and five others that year. We chalked up not getting pregnant to "It's just not the right time."
However, as we approached the year mark, the stresses of not conceiving began to settle in. What if there's something wrong with me post-baby? What if my eggs went away? What if my husband's sperm diminished?
This leads me to the six unspoken stressors of trying to conceive:
1. The deep fear that there is something wrong with you.
We hadn't changed anything in our lives—except perhaps less sleep with a toddler—but the worry that something could have changed inside our bodies, unbeknownst to us, was horrifying.
I kid you not, we even wondered if my husband had cancer again.
2. The exhaustion it takes from trying to figure it all out.
At the one year mark, we began turning over every single stone we could reach. We did everything from changing primary care doctors because they said we were "young and healthy" and wouldn't run basic blood work to changing OBGYNs to beginning all the anatomical tests with our IVF clinic.
No one talks about the energy, time, and MONEY it takes to not only make and plan for the appointments, but to have to go there, advocate like a bulldog, and feel like you're getting nowhere.
3. The financial burden of trying to figure it out.
After working with a holistic practitioner and testing my hair for mineral and vitamin stores, testing my urine for mold (and henceforth detoxing), testing for ureaplasma, and rebalancing my gut just in case, $5,000 later we had no firm evidence of anything holistically wrong.
On top of that, without IVF insurance, the anatomical testing and IVF diagnostic work, which includes genetic blood work (which we probably didn't need because we did it when we were pregnant with our son), the uterine evaluation, ovarian reserve check, and sperm test, $6000 later, we had no answers.
4. Having to feel like "unexplained" is the only answer you'll receive.
As you can imagine, going through all the different testing, supplement protocols, appointments, and worry made parenting and running a business quite challenging. Fertility and the thought of "maybe this cycle will work" becomes a groundhog-day-like reality of planning around a potential pregnancy that *might* happen—for 30 months. Only to start re-imagining those nine months all over again the next month.
5. TTC takes you out of the present—and, if you're not mindful of that, you can feel robbed.
Finally, I'm currently at a weird point in the journey wherein I've completed an egg retrieval (one that almost sent me to the ER because my abdomen filled up with fluid and I had OHSS), made embryos, and attempted one IVF frozen embryo transfer. That process took five months and it felt like my Everest ascent.
Except that the transfer failed.
6. Thus, the final unspoken stressors of trying to conceive when considering fertility treatments is how hard they are on your body.
I truly believe our bodies are resilient and I'm fighting through this (still exercising, etc.). But, just as an example—the drug I was on last cycle was a cancer drug that caused the worst joint pain all over my body. So, you're dealing with the emotional sadness of not having your yearned-for-baby, but also the worry that you're going to lengths that can truly hurt your long-term health (in some rare cases; not here to fear monger).
Unless you're sharing every detail of your journey on TikTok like I am, you're dealing with any one (or all) of these struggles silently. From unexpected bleeding to drug side effects to three appointments in one day.
It's a lot.
Don't be afraid to seek online communities who can support you from afar. Part of my decision to share on TikTok was due to the invaluable information I've received from my followers that has helped me understand my options.
Trying to conceive may be laden with unspoken stressors, but I have now spoken to a handful of them here so that if you find yourself in the same position, you can now feel seen. You are not alone.