A Self-Addressed Letter of Apology: To the Woman Who’s Carried It All (Infertility and Mental Health)

Somewhere between injections, appointments, and heartbreak, I started speaking to myself like I was the enemy. I didn’t even realize how cruel I had been — until I sat down to write this.

After multiple failed IVF cycle, I hit a wall. Not the kind you cry through and bounce back from the next day. The kind that makes you question your body, your choices, your worth. The kind that shatters something deep inside and dares you to find the pieces.

So this post is for me. But maybe it’s for you, too — if you’ve ever blamed yourself for things beyond your control, or felt like your body betrayed you.

Dear Me,

Mm k… we need to talk.

I’ve said some pretty harsh shit to you — and more often, I stayed quiet when you desperately needed to hear something kind. So let me say it now:

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for the way I’ve talked to you.

For the names I’ve called you.

For avoiding your reflection in the mirror, and picking it apart when I finally did look.

For tying your worth to what your body could or couldn’t do.

For whispering that you were broken, defective, not enough… until you started believing it.

I’m sorry I made you feel like a failure.

Because you’re not.

You’ve endured heartbreak layered upon heartbreak — and still, you’ve shown up. You walked into that clinic again. You held hope again. You endured injections, blood draws, surgeries, and devastating silence. You’ve carried life. You’ve carried loss. You’ve carried you through all of it.

You’ve never stopped trying.

I know how easy it is to spiral into shame. I know that voice that plays in your head — the one that didn’t start with IVF. The one that’s been with you since way before this journey. The one that tells you you’re not lovable unless you’re producing, performing, perfect.

But here’s the truth:

That voice isn’t yours.

It was trained into you.

And I’ve watched you work so damn hard to rewrite it — even when the pen kept shaking in your hand.

I forgive you for the nights you didn’t want to keep going.

For the mornings you isolated because “How are you?” felt like an interrogation.

For the way you survived — even if it wasn’t always pretty.

I forgive you for not being okay.

And I’m so proud of you.

You’ve felt life inside of you.

You’ve nurtured dreams that didn’t get the chance to stay.

You opened your heart anyway.

You still do.

Now, I offer you something you’ve struggled to offer yourself:

Grace.

This journey has been brutal and breathtaking all at once.

You are not just what you’ve lost.

You are everything you’ve survived.

You are healing.

You are still here.

And that, my love, is worth celebrating.

Love,

Me

P.S. I f*cking love you, bitch.

Mental Health Benefits

If you’ve ever spoken to yourself like an enemy, I hope you’ll pause today and offer yourself something softer. Even if it feels awkward or unnatural at first. Start by saying to yourself “I’m sorry.” Start with “I forgive you.” Start with “I’m proud of you.”Infertility and mental health are linked, and this exercise was instrumental in helping me recognize that connection.

And if you’re brave enough… write your own letter. You don’t have to show anyone. But you deserve to hear something kind — especially from yourself. I created a handy "Apology Letter to Self" template available for download if you need a starting point! Writing it down and then reading it aloud proved to be a powerful and therapeutic experience for me, offering a touch of healing. I hope it can do the same for you.

Apology Letter to Self Template.pdf

Download PDF • 576KB