How Do You Accept Infertility?
By Karen Deulofeu, Fertility, Pregnancy & Postnatal Coach, Lily Ama Coaching · Featured in The Guardian, BBC and Newsweek
In short: Acceptance isn’t a switch. It builds as you understand what’s happening, see your body differently and learn tools to calm the anxiety. Infertility becomes part of your story without taking over your life.
You don’t accept infertility in one moment. There’s no on/off switch. But it does get easier, and you can get there without a single ounce of “toxic positivity”.
I know because I’ve lived it, and now I support others through it. In my experience, it comes down to three shifts: understanding what’s happening and resetting your expectations and timelines; seeing your body differently, with more awareness of what it can do and an acknowledgement (not judgement) of what it’s struggling with; and having tools to calm the anxiety along the way.
Over time the initial shock lessens, the pain reduces and the future becomes less hazy. The present becomes less anxiety-provoking, and there’s less fear for both today and tomorrow.
It took a long time for me to get there. Infertility took parts of me and robbed me of my “best years” in many ways. It doesn’t need to be the same for you.
What Is Infertility?
Infertility is a medical condition affecting the ability to conceive naturally and its impact can last into pregnancy. It can affect either or both partners, male or female. The World Health Organization defines it as the failure to achieve a pregnancy after 12 months or more of regular unprotected sexual intercourse.
But being diagnosed with infertility is also an emotional experience that can fundamentally change how someone sees their future.
What Does It Mean to Accept Infertility?
Accepting doesn’t mean simply being ok with the diagnosis. It means acknowledging it as part of your life, without allowing it to consume you. It’s understanding what it means and the impact, without living in constant panic.
This is different for everyone. It’s often less about “accepting infertility” and more about accepting this new version of yourself, your body and how the future may play out differently than imagined.
For some, this includes being open about available options to grow your family. If some of those seem unfamiliar or uncomfortable, it’s important to understand why that discomfort is there, and then how to move forward in a way that’s right for you, without overwhelm. The first step may focus more on the emotional response than the practicalities.
The key to overall acceptance is to remove any sense of failure, self-blame and, possibly most importantly, dislike for your body.
A deeper acceptance can mean the diagnosis not affecting your day to day: still being able to perform at work to the level that’s right for you, enjoying romantic and/or social relationships, and living day to day without triggers derailing you.
My story
I became aware of the term “infertility” many years after having an emergency oophorectomy and salpingectomy (removal of ovary and tube) and a PCOS diagnosis. My first question after surgery was whether I’d still be able to have children, and at what age would be too late. Although technically I still could, there was a timeline put on it. One that felt more like a death sentence. I became obsessed. As the years went on without children, I felt more and more broken. There was a real fear about what a future without children meant, and it took me to dark places. It sounds dramatic, but it felt real too.
Years later, in preparation for IVF, I was told the other tube was damaged and needed to be removed. Devastated doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. Suddenly it all felt very, very real: I am, and will always be, infertile. I’ll never be able to have children naturally, and if IVF doesn’t work… there’s nothing.
Acceptance came later, when I finally realised I could still like and appreciate my body for what it could do and, even more importantly, that I could live in the wait instead of having life on hold while I waited to hold my baby. The following cycle was the one. Acceptance didn’t cause that. It just meant I was living my life while I waited.
How Does It Feel to Be Infertile?
One of the hardest parts of infertility for many is grieving the future you expected to have: the children, the family, the full house. It can also leave you feeling physically “broken” in a way that’s hard to explain or get your head around when you’re otherwise healthy.
It can include grief for:
- the physical experience of pregnancy and birth
- being the parent you’d imagined, or the relationship you’d imagined together as parents
- feeling broken, or that your body has failed you
- comparing yourself to other people and/or feeling left out
- siblings for existing children, or guilt that you “just have one”
- the house and family life you imagined
- child-focused Christmases, birthdays and holidays
- the path you expected life would take
We’re raised to believe that having children is a certainty. From school, we’re taught how babies are made, with an assumption that getting pregnant is easy and that we are in control of if we want it and when it happens.
We’re warned to use contraception to prevent pregnancy, because the message is essentially “if you don’t prevent it, it will happen”. Nobody prepares us for what happens when it doesn’t.
We’re rarely taught what infertility is or means emotionally, or what alternative routes to parenthood might look like.
For these reasons it can come as a real shock. There’s often shame too, and a sense that it’s solitary and isolating.
Although it’s a silent, held grief, many are affected. The World Health Organization estimates around 1 in 6 people worldwide experience infertility in their lifetime. In the UK, around 53,000 patients had IVF in 2024 (HFEA). There’s a good chance someone close to you is also grappling with this.
Why Does Infertility Feel Like Grieving a Future That Never Happened?
If you’ve spent years imagining your future with children, that vision became an anchor when looking ahead. Future plans had children in them, even if they weren’t centre stage.
It can seem odd to grieve a future that never happened, but for many of us that vision was so clear it felt like reality.
Our brains can respond to vividly imagined scenes in ways that feel very real. Think of the last time you were engrossed in a film or a book. When it ended, you wondered what else happened to the characters. You felt part of the story, invested.
Initially the grief for the expected future can be all-consuming, because it’s scary. What felt in our control (having children) has been taken away, and that’s unsettling.
As time passes, this changes. You’re better placed to work through the next steps that feel right for you, based on the advice you have at the time. The grief can soften into a low hum instead of dominating your life. It may pop up, or it may remain quiet, and in my experience how much it shows up is shaped by how we process it.
What Can I Do If I’m Struggling to Accept My Infertility?
Whether newly diagnosed or it’s been known for a while, one of the most important things you can do is deliberately protect your emotional wellbeing while you process this. Not by “being positive”, but by knowing your personal boundaries and having tools to navigate what you’re going through.
It’s a unique situation that’s incredibly hard for even the most empathetic of people to understand unless they’ve trodden the path personally. Finding a community of people who do understand, and/or 1:1 support, can be invaluable. A support structure that works for YOU is crucial. Where possible, build it before you need it so it’s there when you do.
Here are 3 key pointers to keep in mind, drawn from my Beyond Fertility Story Method:
1. Stop trying to force acceptance
You don’t need to convince yourself that you’re grateful for anything, or positive, or “OK”. Shifting focus to areas of acceptance can be incredibly helpful here. This happens naturally as a by-product of rebuilding self-belief and reducing judgement.
2. Protect yourself
Know what you can and can’t handle. Where possible, put boundaries around engaging in pregnancy chat, attending baby events and fertility-focused social media. While it can be difficult to avoid these when it comes to family and social gatherings, consider what you can put in place to protect yourself, with kindness to all.
3. Learn how to process what’s happening
Processing the news can feel muddled, overwhelming and disconcerting. There are levels and nuances within it. Your reaction to the diagnosis will be influenced by stories we’ve heard from family, friends and others who’ve been through something similar.
It’s not about “changing your mindset”. It’s about learning to recognise what is happening emotionally and having tools to regulate and respond in a productive way. This puts you back in the driver’s seat of your own story.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed with the news and options, pause. Separate each bit out. Think of tangled balls of string: pull out one string at a time and address each separately. By doing this, the overwhelm reduces and your nervous system is far better able to deal with both the present and the future without the underlying fear or dread. The pressure and panic ease and you look forward differently.
Does Infertility Ever Stop Hurting?
The pain does ease, but at times you may still feel sad about it. Years later it could come up at a friend’s announcement, on anniversaries, or in places that remind you of the family you’d imagined. This may even happen if you were successful or grew to be happy with your outcome. But even if it happens, these moments don’t have to derail you. It’s as if they live as a story in the shadows. You will never truly be back at square one, because you have more time and experience under your belt.
I still get caught out sometimes. Even when writing this, I got teary about what could have been vs what is. The difference is in how I acknowledge and respond to those thoughts. The truth is, there’s no longing or ache in my heart anymore, just an awareness of things turning out differently than expected. Because life as it is has worked out well.
You never forget what happened or the losses. You carry the physical and emotional scars, but it becomes less raw and all-consuming.
You accept the diagnosis without it defining your life.
Can I Still Have a Happy and Fulfilling Life After an Infertility Diagnosis?
Yes, even after an infertility diagnosis you can still have a happy and fulfilling life. You don’t have to choose between “I’m devastated by what happened” and “I’ve moved on and I’m grateful”. You can be happy and still grieve.
“Finding hope that doesn’t gaslight your grief.” — Karen Deulofeu, Lily Ama Coaching
The key is to not let the diagnosis take over your life.
When you feel broken and think your reproductive organs aren’t working as they “should”, park the thought for a moment and consider the parts of you that are working. Take a walk around the room and be aware of all the movements, from your feet to your shoulders. Consider: how often have you reminded your knees to lift, or your hips to twist, or even your lungs to breathe? Probably zero! We can get so stuck in the feeling of being broken that we forget what is working. Rather than being forced gratitude, it’s a genuine awareness of what your body is capable of. This can fuel deeper self-belief, which has a ripple effect on other areas of life too.
I still remember that version of me in the dark days of infertility. She’ll always be a part of me, but she’s not all of me. Life as a single mum after IVF hasn’t created the big family home I’d dreamed of, but there are genuine benefits. I’ve been able to move from corporate to dedicate my life to a different passion, we travel, and my house is the playdate house. It’s often loud and busy, just not in the way I’d expected.
In my experience, feeling happy and fulfilled comes from a sense of inner security: having more control over your thoughts and mindset.
How Can I Support Someone Going Through Infertility?
If you know someone who’s going through infertility, realise that they don’t need solutions from you. They just need someone to listen when they’re sad and to agree that the world can be unfair. Without personal lived experience, it’s ok to admit that it’s hard to understand, but being there without judgement, for them or yourself, can be the kindest place to start.
Allow them to set boundaries and respect them. Don’t assume they’ll be comfortable around pregnancy, babies or children’s events. Give them permission to say no without making them feel guilty. Remember that it’s ok if they’re sad. It takes time to process, adjust and build a new version of the future.
Sometimes simply asking what they need from you is a good first step. Be open to learning, or simply treat them as you always have. Because they are still there.
Can a Fertility Coach Help With the Emotional Impact of Infertility?
If I had £1 for every person who’s said “I wish I knew about you when I was going through my own journey”, I’d be a rich lady! I guess that’s the answer.
As a Fertility (and Pregnancy, Postnatal) Coach, I provide expert emotional and practical support alongside medical fertility care, particularly when you’re struggling with overwhelm, anxiety, boundaries, identity, relationships, decision-making or the psychological impact of infertility. My role isn’t to diagnose a mental or physical health condition but, as someone called me recently, to be your “Fertility Mum” through the hardest times.
It’s not just talking. I teach methods to help you steady yourself when you feel your thoughts starting to spiral, and we get to the root of the mindset challenges. A Guardian journalist experienced this first-hand: while investigating the validity of fertility coaching, she had sessions with me alongside other experts to see what’s involved. Read the article here
If you’d like a chat about how fertility coaching could support you or a loved one, book a free introductory call with me here.
Frequently Asked Questions
How long does it take to accept infertility?
There’s no set timeline. For me it took years. Having support and tools to process what’s happening can make the road feel steadier.
Is it normal to grieve after an infertility diagnosis?
Yes, grief is a common response. Many people grieve the future they’d imagined, as well as the physical experience of pregnancy and birth.
How common is infertility?
The WHO estimates around 1 in 6 people worldwide experience infertility in their lifetime. Read the WHO report.
What should I say to someone who’s just been diagnosed with infertility?
You don’t need solutions. Listen, don’t assume what they can cope with, and ask what they need from you.
Is fertility coaching the same as medical care or therapy?
No. Coaching works alongside medical care. It doesn’t diagnose or treat a medical or mental health condition. If you’re struggling with your mental health, speak to your GP.
This post is for general information and isn’t medical advice. If you have concerns about your health or fertility, speak to your GP or fertility clinic.
Sources: WHO, 1 in 6 people globally affected by infertility (2023) · HFEA, Fertility treatment 2024: trends and figures
About Karen
I’m a specialist fertility, pregnancy and postnatal coach focusing on the emotional impact of infertility and the longer-term effects it can have on how we think, feel and experience life. I’ve experienced infertility and IVF myself and have been featured by The Guardian, BBC and Newsweek.