Happy Friday! Kayti here. Our daughter was born via IVF last June and is about to turn one. And if I’m being honest, I’ve really struggled to process the last five years of my life.
After we first started trying, I became obsessed with tracking my cycles and timing intercourse. When doctors gave us canned answers about “normal tests” and told us to just keep trying, I did what I do best (big firstborn energy) and dove headfirst into research. I didn’t have the vocabulary for reproductive endocrinologists yet, and our HMO required referrals for everything, so instead I spent my time arguing with nurses and OBs, begging them to run further tests to figure out why we couldn’t get pregnant.
Mostly when I look back, I feel tired. Absent. The days blur into one long stretch of time.
The same way I’ve blocked out much of my infertility experience, I’ve found myself blocking out the “before” of becoming a mother, starting with my daughter’s birth. There’s a split in my life. Not just because my identity shifted, but because the pain was too much to carry into the next chapter. So my brain decided to leave it all behind in the postpartum ward.
We’re recording the birth episode this week, and I’ve been trying to dig up memories that aren’t just doctors’ notes. The moment I was wheeled into the OR, staring up at the lights, feeling like I might not open my eyes again. Red toilet water after the nurse helped me to the bathroom. The first bite of the Chipotle burrito I’d been craving while everyone passed our baby around, wrapped like a tiny burrito herself. The way I cried for days because my uterus contracted so hard every time I tried to breastfeed and made my insides feel like jello.
Birth was my breaking point. After years of being poked and exposed and bruised, my body finally said enough. My cervix tore, I hemorrhaged, and I became completely helpless. Like so many times before, I was at the mercy of my medical team to stitch me back together. And even then, my body kept protesting through recovery. Those first weeks home came with COVID, UTIs, and loose stitches. There was no real rest. Not until late summer, though I can’t really pinpoint when I started to feel like myself again.
I’m summarizing here, getting words on the page as I begin to process ahead of our recording this weekend. I can feel myself needing to take a beat and finally breathe.
A few weeks ago, Amy and I went to a breathwork class on a Saturday, and we both sobbed through the whole thing, for different reasons and the same ones. There is so much stored in all of our bodies, no matter where we’re at on this journey.
My hope is that by talking about it, I can let some of it out, make sense of it and maybe find some closure. Or maybe, like breath itself, I can finally exhale so I can inhale again.
🎧 new on the pod:
This week’s episode covers a lot of ground, including a conversation about when to tell your family and friends about your IVF transfer.
As a reminder, we now have extended versions of the podcast for paid subscribers if you want more BTS banter (this week’s was about Justin Bieber at Coachella, buying a house in southern CA, and kitchen dance parties/cold plunges to reset our mood)
Listen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or YouTube!
💜 a special discount for listeners
This summer, we’re partnering with Tempdrop, a basal body temperature sensor with an accompanying fertility app to help you identify your fertile window. If you’ve ever used an oral thermometer to track your BBT, this is a game-changer for getting more accurate data without setting your alarm in the morning. Use code AFFRIEDEGGS for 10% off your order.
community note
We’re so excited to share this opportunity for women navigating infertility: a therapy-based retreat called Therapeia, taking place this October in Orlando, Florida, designed to offer structured emotional and clinical support during the fertility journey. The retreat was inspired by the founder’s own IVF journey and what she wished had existed during her care, and it includes daily 1:1 sessions with licensed therapists, a physician-created healing program focused on the emotional weight of treatment, and ongoing virtual support and community after participants return home. Learn more here.
weekend mood
If you love the pod, help us grow by hitting follow and leaving a review on Spotify and Apple. And then join us on Instagram, where we post daily memes and reels that help us get through infertility. 🩷