Meeting the Broken Version of You During Infertility

Let me introduce you to someone. She’s exhausted. She’s emotional. She’s lying on the floor in her sweatpants, surrounded by half-empty chocolate wrappers and a Google search history that could scare a therapist. She’s you—but not the you from last year who didn’t cry at diaper commercials. This is your broken version, and trust me, she’s a whole mood.

Meeting her isn’t a grand affair. There’s no dramatic music or confetti cannons. She simply shows up, uninvited, like that one relative who overstays their welcome. At first, you don’t even recognize her. “Who is this sad, anxious, rage-fueled gremlin screaming at baby showers?” Oh wait. It’s me.

Let’s talk about what makes her so special. Broken You is raw. She’s the person who cries over a negative pregnancy test, eats ice cream straight from the tub, and then curses the universe for giving a houseplant better fertility odds. But don’t be fooled—she’s not weak. Broken You is actually pretty badass. She’s surviving. She’s coping. And sometimes, she’s doing it with the finesse of a drunk raccoon.

She googles things at 3 a.m. like, “Can essential oils make my uterus happier?” or “Is pineapple core the secret to pregnancy, or am I just gullible?” She knows everything about ovulation tracking but couldn’t tell you what day of the week it is.

She’s unpredictable, she’s intense, and she’s honestly kind of funny—like when she yells at her partner for breathing “too loudly” during a Clomid-induced rage spiral.

Broken You isn’t here to ruin your life. She’s here to hold up a mirror. She forces you to confront things you’ve buried under years of “I’m fine” and “I don’t need help.” She’s not just a mess; she’s also your teacher.

She’s teaching you patience when waiting for answers. She’s teaching you resilience, even though it feels like the world is trolling you with every pregnancy announcement on social media. And most importantly, she’s teaching you to let go of the idea that you need to be perfect.

Once you stop fighting Broken You, you realize she’s not the villain of your story. She’s just… hurting. And maybe what she really needs isn’t a miracle cure or a Pinterest-perfect coping strategy. Maybe she just needs you to sit with her, let her cry, and remind her that it’s okay to fall apart sometimes.

Broken You is temporary, even though it doesn’t feel like it. One day, you’ll wake up and notice she’s not around as much anymore. Maybe you’ll miss her a little—not the tears or the pain, but the way she made you realize how strong and capable you really are.

So, here’s to Broken You. She’s messy. She’s hilarious. She’s human. And she’s proof that even in your darkest moments, you can find a way to laugh, grow, and keep going.

And if she needs another chocolate bar or a scream session in the shower, let her have it. She’s earned it.