Self Care for Infertility
When you’ve been trying to have a baby for years, you can expect nearly everyone else in your life to suddenly become pregnant like the fertile moon goddesses they are. And without anything tangible to show for your pain, it can often be a bewildering experience to navigate. That’s why we’ve created a self-care guide specifically geared toward women experiencing infertility.
The trigger: Your friend is Instagramming her #babymoon.
The solution: Treat yourself to a Barren Beach Getaway!
The trigger: So. Many. Bump. Photos.
The solution: Treat yourself to a burrito. Then at least you’ll have a food baby. Rub your belly with almond oil if you got guac so you don’t get stretch marks.
The trigger: There’s another photo of a baby on one of those mats with numbers and a twine rope over the six. Oh my god, have six months really gone by since Jenna had her baby? She’s been teaching a human how to roll over from its stomach and feeding it from her own body and all you’ve done is catch up on both seasons of Queer Eye. Who are you kidding, you’re not fit to be a mother.
The solution: Take a bath and try to calm down. Maybe watch a Helen Mirren movie. Helen Mirren never had kids and she’s a perfectly normal human being. Your life will probably not be as cool as Helen Mirren’s if you don’t end up having kids, but you’ll still be okay.
The trigger: Someone posts a photo of an all-pink nursery. Meanwhile, you’re staring at the empty room in your house that only holds a yoga mat and a broken chair.
The solution: “Mute” or “hide” this person and instead follow accounts that only post inspirational quotes. Repost these quotes so that it appears you are a positive person and not someone about to punch a wall.
The trigger: Back to school! Your feed is an influx of adorable children holding mini chalkboards. Jason’s in third grade already? You remember third grade. It was the year you got your period. What was the point? you think. No use getting excited about entering womanhood with what you’ll later find out is a broken uterus.
The solution: Visit your friends with kids. Happily hand them back to their parents as soon as they spit or poop. Feel thankful you’re childless for an hour.
The trigger: You get your period again, the ultimate reminder that you have failed this month at trying to create a human life. As a bonus, that day in the mail you receive a catalog for Christmas ornaments with a cover image that reads “And baby makes 3!” Is even the Christmas ornament catalog mocking you?
The solution: Do what you always do when you get your period. Hide under a blanket with a Gilmore Girls marathon on and eat your feelings.
The trigger: Are you pregnant this month? Or do you just have a FUPA? Nope, it’s just your FUPA.
The solution: Take the seat offered to you on the subway anyways.
The trigger: Some woman has the non-defected ovaries to bring her kid to the fertility clinic. She already HAS one, not fair!
The solution: Remember that she is likely a success story, which means that there’s hope for you yet. Bitch about her on your group text though just to be safe.
The trigger: A childhood acquaintance is complaining on social media about her pregnancy cravings and how uncomfortable she is. You didn’t even realize she was still a friend on Facebook, or that she had a partner and that they were trying for kids. Everyone should run their childbearing plans by me, you think. That way I can be emotionally prepared when Lindsay exclaims that her hubby is “the best” for rubbing her swollen feet. Meanwhile, you have bruises all over your body from hormone injections and have been crying non stop every time a song plays on the radio in C minor.
The solution: Take a Xanax. After all, you’re not pregnant.
