imageDear Husband,

I want you to know that this journey is something I never fathomed we would have to go on. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would one day be discussing the side effects of fertility drugs over dinner.

I know I’ve been a wreck, but this mess of a situation hasn’t been easy on you either. I know it has to be hard on you watching me cry, become self-conscious and distant for no reason. For that, I am sorry. I wish this could be easier on the both of us, really. Neither one of us deserve to wonder if we will ever get the chance to be parents. Some days I wonder if you had just married someone else, you wouldn’t have had to go through all of this.

I’m sure at times you think I should just “calm down and quit ‘rushing it’.” I bet from your standpoint it must feel like I’m constantly obsessing over doctors appointments, times, sub plans, medications I need to take, temping, charting, peeing on things, etc. You are probably wondering what happened to the laid back girl you married years ago.

I need you to know though, that this truly is a pendulum of emotions for me. One minute I feel hopeful that we are going to try something new and maybe get answers or a chance at getting pregnant. The next second I am stressing that my body will continue to be a failure at the new plans set forth by our doctor. It’s hard not to question and second guess every decision that has to be made after facing so many obstacles. Is this the right thing? Is this what God would want? Is this what my husband wants?

I feel like a magic 8 ball that gets asked all the questions, but never has any good answers.


I feel like it’s easier for you to see the end goal instead of the struggles I have to face along the way. I have had to undergo painful testing, embarrassing questioning, showing a million and ten strangers my vajayjay, eat funky diets, digest crazy pills, use half of my sick days, plan minute for minute what my sub should do while I’m away at a moments notice and be the one to stare the the Big. Fat. Negative. that I see every month.


If it was as easy as us just making love and creating a baby I would LOVE to give up all that anxiety. It would be so freeing to just ‘quit hurrying and pushing things’. If only I hadn’t been told that this was only something we have a 2% chance of doing on our own. That statistic was sobering to hear. I feel like I have to do everything I can, every single day, in order to even have the opportunity to get pregnant.

Since my body is the one that has to actually do the work, I feel like I’m the one who has to bear the brunt of the burden. That’s not to say that you don’t have to carry your own weights that come with infertility, it’s just that I carry the physical ones.

During this time I need you more than ever. I need from you understanding, clarity and strength. In my weakest moments, my fearful, anxiety ridden breakdowns of self-doubt, I need you to be my rock. I need to hear those calming words, “I love you. We will make it through this.” I need reassurance that everything I’m feeling is justified and there is no answer at that moment. I need your embrace and genuine understanding of my emotion. I need you to be in my corner. I also need you to be a guide through the decision making process.


The decisions that have to be made are hard. When to move on to something new? How much of a drug is too much? What will our hard limits be as far as treatment goes? What can we afford? When do we advocate for something else in our treatment plan? These are decisions that we must face head on, together. To put it simply, it takes two to tango. This is our tango.

Above all though, I love you and couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone else. Even though there will be days that I am distant, tearful and hard to manage, deep down I could not keep going without you. You are my person. The one who understands me and knows me better than I know myself at times. You are the future father of my children. You, are my husband and one day I, will be myself again.

With Love,

Your Wife