Hi Reader,
This week, I had a bit of a breakdown. I’d been feeling “off” all weekend, and my go-to solution was to clean and try to control as much as I could. (Classic me.)
Come Monday, I had a massage with my mum. If you don’t know her, she’s kind of a massage therapist, skincare creator, healer, therapist, and witch all rolled into one. During that session, we uncovered some deep-seated beliefs I’d been carrying about my worth.
And let me tell you, all of that emotion came rushing to the surface.
She told me to journal and prepare for a big cry to process it all. But for the rest of the day, and the next, I didn’t cry. Instead, I felt raw, vulnerable, and, honestly, a little bit like crap. I even told her, “You’ve left me feeling like shit.”
Here’s the thing: I don’t do vulnerability well.
When I’m overwhelmed, I usually turn to anger or control.
But in that moment, I didn’t want to fight or fix. I wanted gentleness. I wanted to be hugged.
And then my husband, Nic, said something that completely shocked me: “I love it when you feel your vulnerability and come back from sessions with your mum.”
I got it.
Nic calls me a “cold fish” a lot (lovingly, of course). His love language is touch.
He wants to cuddle, be affectionate, and would sleep cuddling all night if I let him. Meanwhile, I don’t even like it when his foot crosses onto my side of the bed.
For me? My love language is words of affirmation.
Tell me I’m doing a great job, but don’t smother me with affection.
The big cry finally came on Wednesday afternoon, and Nic was amazing, so supportive, so present.
That night, I started thinking deeply about relationship dynamics when life gets hard. Honestly, I hate feeling vulnerable.
But I was reminded of the women I work with.
Women navigating infertility who are carrying this kind of emotional weight every single day, often for years.
After 15 years of supporting couples going through IVF, I’ve seen how this stress can strain even the strongest relationships.
We focus so hard on the perfect diet, supplements, no alcohol, no toxins. With all the rules and control, where’s the space for love, fun, and intimacy?
For some of you, stress might make you try to control more and more, including your partner.
For others, it might make you withdraw, check out, and internalise everything.
And for men? They can often feel dismissive or overwhelmed, like “it’s all too hard.”
So how do you nurture your relationship during infertility? How do you feel supported and in it together, while respecting each other’s feelings about the process?
I’m not a psychologist, but I’ve spent 15 years observing couples in this space and, honestly, I’ve been training since I was a toddler (thanks to my mum) on the importance of feelings and communication.
In this week’s blog, I’m sharing some strategies that have worked for my clients. Try one, try them all, find what works for you.
I hope you find it helpful.