Both Clinician & Patient: My Perspective on Fertility Challenges

1 in 4 individuals experience pregnancy loss.
1 in 7–8 couples face fertility challenges.

Why this matters so deeply to me

There are countless reasons this work matters—but first and foremost, my clients. Past, present, and future clients who trust me during one of the most vulnerable, and often desperate, times in their lives. Whether they are navigating infertility, exploring alternative paths to parenthood, or preparing for invasive procedures that may activate past trauma—this space matters.

And then, there are two very personal reasons: my children.
My daughter, who may one day face endometriosis like I did.
My son, who may experience male factor infertility or navigate fertility struggles within a relationship.

This is why I continue to educate myself and dedicate my life’s work to supporting those grieving their fertility journeys.

A dual lens: clinician and patient

I write from two perspectives.

One, as the patient—lying in a hospital gown, legs in stirrups, shaking. Overanalyzing every lab result. Counting follicles on a screen after the sonographer leaves. Taking pregnancy tests compulsively. Scrolling forums at 3 a.m., searching for answers.

And the other, as a clinician—grounded in understanding trauma, grief, and the nervous system. Holding space for the emotional and psychological toll that fertility challenges bring.

My lived experience

As I’ve shared before, my first reproductive endocrinology appointment was over 10 years ago, when I was 27. I wasn’t actually trying to conceive—I said I was, just to be taken seriously in pursuing an endometriosis diagnosis.

After years of not being heard, I learned a painful truth: many providers only respond to endometriosis when fertility is impacted. So I did what many desperate people do—I found a way to be seen.

That began years of testing, procedures, and ultimately surgery.

When I was truly ready to conceive, I sought a second opinion and was advised to move directly to IVF. In 2018, the process began—endless blood draws, scans, appointments. I believed IVF would work. I didn’t consider that it might not.

After failed cycles and chemical pregnancies, I learned how complex my body’s needs were. Medications impacted me deeply—at one point, Letrozole triggered a brief psychotic episode. I withdrew. I avoided conversations. I felt envy, resentment, and profound hopelessness.

I also had to face alternative paths to parenthood. My partner and I discussed options like embryo adoption.

Years later, I am grateful to say I have two children, including a rainbow baby. But being “on the other side” does not erase the experience. It changed me permanently—shaping how I hold fear, hope, and trust, even in healthy pregnancies.

What I see as a therapist

My personal experience transformed my professional work.

I’ve developed a therapeutic approach that integrates grief, trauma, and behavioral frameworks to support individuals navigating fertility. I work with those trying to conceive, experiencing recurrent loss, managing medical complexities, pursuing IVF, surrogacy, donor conception, adoption—and those redefining identity when parenthood is no longer part of their path.

Grieving the loss of a future you imagined is real.

Infertility is not going away. And “unexplained infertility”? In many cases, it means it’s time for deeper investigation and second opinions. While there are incredible providers advancing care, we still have a long way to go.

What I want you to know

Grief is not limited to death.
It shows up in missed milestones, lost timelines, cancelled baby showers, names that never get used.

A shifting, paused, or ended path to parenthood is devastating.

Hearing pregnancy complaints at work can feel unbearable.
Seeing announcements while experiencing loss can be shattering.

Grief changes people.

But with the right support, people can learn to carry it—to express it, honor it, set boundaries, and advocate for themselves.

This is why my work is not just about fertility—it’s about the whole person.

You are not defined by your fertility.
This is not your fault.
There is support.

A few important reminders

• If you are considering trying to conceive, schedule a preconception appointment.

• If you are struggling, seek support—peer groups or counseling. You don’t have to do this alone.

• If someone you love is struggling: please don’t say, “Just relax” or “It will happen when it’s meant to.” It’s not helpful, and it’s not true.

There are meaningful resources available, including organizations like AllPaths Family Building, Postpartum Support International (PSI), and MCPAP.

And if you are seeking a therapist—make sure they are not only interested in fertility, but trained in it.

You deserve informed, compassionate care.

You know where to find me.

www.scarlsonlmhc.com

-SC