Welcome to IVF This, Episode 208: IVF & Emotional Loadshedding

Hello, hello, hello my beautiful friends.

Welcome back to another episode of IVF This. I hope you are all doing so, so well. 

Today, we're talking about something I introduced briefly when I shared the new IVF This Framework, which was the last episode before this one, and that is - Emotional Load Shedding.

And I want to start with a visual.

Imagine you walk into your house carrying approximately 47 grocery bags.

Because if you’re like me, making two trips from the car is a personal failure.

So you've got bags looped around every finger.

There's one hanging from your wrist.

You've somehow got a case of sparkling water tucked underneath your arm.

You're using your hip to hold another bag against your body.

Your keys are in your mouth.

And you are absolutely refusing to put anything down.

You can barely open the door.

But instead of putting down three bags, your brain is like:

Eh, we can do this.

And honestly?

That is what infertility can start to feel like emotionally.

You're carrying the appointments.

The medications.

The decisions.

The finances.

The uncertainty.

The grief.

The hope.

The waiting.

The relationship stuff.

The work stuff.

The insurance stuff.

The family stuff.

The friend-who-just-announced-her-pregnancy stuff.

The "should I be taking CoQ10? (or insert another relevant supplement)" stuff.

The "what if this doesn't work?" stuff.

The "what if we need another retrieval?" stuff.

The "how many embryos should we transfer?" stuff.

The "should I go to this baby shower?" stuff.

The "my mother keeps asking questions and I don't know what to tell her" stuff.

And buried underneath all of those bags is an email you've been meaning to answer for eleven days, and the text messages that you’ve left on read.

And your brain has decided:

ALL OF THIS MUST BE CARRIED AT THE SAME TIME.

So today, we're going to talk about what happens when we start intentionally putting some of the bags down.

Not because they aren't important. Not because we suddenly don't care.

But because as human beings we have finite emotional capacity.

And infertility does not magically give you more of it just because the demands keep coming.

What Is Emotional Load?

When I talk about emotional load, I'm talking about all of the psychological and emotional material you're carrying at any given moment. Some of it is obvious.

You're waiting for your beta. You're grieving a failed transfer. Trying to figure out the money or insurance of it all. You're trying to decide whether to do another retrieval.

Those things take up space.

But there's also an enormous amount of invisible load.

You're thinking about how your husband or partner is handling everything.

You're wondering whether your mom or your bestie is hurt because you haven't called.

You're trying to figure out what you're going to say when your coworker asks how treatment is going.

You're rehearsing how you'll respond if someone announces a pregnancy at Thanksgiving.

You're researching embryo grading at 11:30 at night or hitting up the reddit threads.

You're trying to figure out whether you're hopeful enough.

Or too hopeful. Or not hopeful enough.

You're wondering if you should be journaling. Meditating. Doing fertility yoga. Eating differently. Sleeping differently. Thinking differently. Feeling differently.

And none of those things necessarily looks like "doing something."

But your brain is working. Constantly.

And that's the part I think we underestimate.

Thinking about something is work.

Anticipating something is work.

Managing someone else's emotional reaction is work.

Making decisions is work.

Monitoring yourself is work.

Trying to create certainty is work.

And if enough of those processes are running simultaneously, eventually your brain starts behaving like a computer with 73 tabs open.

Technically, it's still functioning.

But everything is taking a little longer.

The fan is making a concerning noise.

And somewhere, music is playing, and you cannot figure out which tab it's coming from.

That's emotional overload.

The Actual Load Versus the Added Load

Now, let’s not pretend that these aren’t very real and valid concerns.

There are parts of infertility that are genuinely heavy.

I never want to take a concept like this and turn it into:

Well, you're overwhelmed because you're carrying things you shouldn't be carrying.

No.

Sometimes you're overwhelmed because your life is genuinely overwhelming.

You might have to make a decision about whether you can afford another retrieval.

You likely have to coordinate appointments around work.

You might be grieving.

You will literally have to inject medication into your body every night.

Those aren't optional emotional burdens.

The goal here is not to mindset your way out of the reality of infertility.

But what often happens is that we take the weight of what is actually happening...

and then we pile additional weight on top of it.

The transfer failed- that's the load. That is heavy and painful to carry

And then:

What does this mean about my body?

What does this mean about our chances?

What if none of our embryos work?

Should I have done something differently?

Did I cause this?

What if my doctor missed something?

Should I switch clinics?

What if I never become a mom?

How am I going to tell everyone?

What if my husband is secretly devastated and resents me?

What if he's not devastated enough?

What if this destroys our marriage?

What if—

And suddenly you aren't carrying one painful reality.

You're carrying the painful reality plus seventeen hypothetical futures.

This doesn't mean those thoughts are irrational or a product of “overthinking”.

It doesn't mean you're doing infertility wrong. It means your brain is trying desperately to help.

It sees uncertainty and says:

Okay.Maybe if we think through every possible outcome, we can get ahead of this thing.

Maybe if we carry everything now, nothing can surprise us later.

Which brings us to something I think is really important.

Carrying Can Become a Form of Control

Sometimes carrying feels safer than putting something down.

Because carrying feels like doing.

Researching feels like doing.

Worrying feels like doing.

Rehearsing feels like doing.

Planning feels like doing.

Monitoring feels like doing.

And when you're living through an experience in which you have very little actual control, doing something can feel incredibly regulating.

Even when the thing you're doing is exhausting you.

If I keep researching, maybe I'll find the thing everyone else missed.

If I keep thinking about what could go wrong, maybe I won't be blindsided.

If I figure out exactly what I'll do if this transfer fails, maybe it won't destroy me.

If I manage everyone's expectations now, maybe I won't have to deal with their disappointment later.

If I pay very close attention to every sensation in my body, maybe I'll know the result before the test tells me.

If I keep carrying this...

maybe I'm still doing something.

And this is where Emotional Load Shedding can actually feel uncomfortable.

Because putting the grocery bags down requires us to acknowledge:

I might not be able to solve this right now.

And for a nervous system that has learned that vigilance equals safety?

That can feel terrifying.

Someone says:

"You don't need to worry about that yet."

And your nervous system responds:

THE FUCK I DON'T.

Because your brain isn't experiencing worry as unnecessary suffering.

It's experiencing worry as preparation. Protection. Responsibility.

So when we talk about shedding emotional load, we're not simply talking about making a better to-do list.

We're talking about learning to tolerate the discomfort of not carrying something.

Women Are Trained to Carry

And I think we also have to talk about gender here.

Because women are often trained from a very young age to become emotional pack mules.

We remember. We anticipate. We notice. We smooth things over. We manage expectations.

We remember birthdays. We know when someone is upset. We think about what everyone needs. We soften our language so nobody thinks we're rude. We anticipate how decisions will affect everyone around us. We monitor the emotional temperature of the room.

And a lot of women become incredibly good at it.

So good that we don't even recognize it as labor anymore.

It just feels like being a responsible person.

Then infertility comes along.

And infertility brings its own enormous emotional workload.

But we don't stop doing everything else.

We just add it. We fold it in to what we’re already carrying. 

And now you're managing treatment...

while also managing your friends or families feelings about treatment.

Your partner's feelings about treatment. Your boss's perception of your absences or that you’ve been “distracted”.

Your friend's discomfort because she doesn't know what to say.

Your pregnant sister-in-law's fear that her pregnancy will upset you.

The family member who desperately wants updates.

The person who means well but keeps checking in.

And suddenly you're carrying your grief...

and everybody else's experience of your grief.

That is a tremendous amount of emotional labor.

And I want to be really clear here:

Someone else's feelings can be real...

and still not be yours to carry.

Let me repeat that. 

Someone else’s feelings can be very real and very valid… and not yours to carry. 

Your mom can genuinely feel sad that you aren't sharing more with her.

Your friend can genuinely feel awkward because she doesn't know how to talk to you about her pregnancy.

Your partner can genuinely have their own fears and grief.

Those feelings matter.

But a feeling existing near you does not automatically make it your responsibility.

That sentence might be worth writing down.

A feeling existing near me does not automatically make it mine to manage.

Because when you're already carrying infertility, sometimes the most compassionate thing you can do for yourself is stop volunteering to carry everybody else's backpack too.

So What Is Emotional Load Shedding?

Emotional Load Shedding is the intentional practice of asking:

What is currently occupying psychological bandwidth that does not require my attention right now?

Notice what I did not ask.

What shouldn't matter to me?

What shouldn't I care about?

What am I being dramatic about?

What should I be over by now?

No.

We're not using this as another tool to invalidate ourselves.

We're asking:

Does this require my attention right now?

Because something can matter... and still not need to be carried today.

Something can be your responsibility...and still not need to be solved this afternoon.

Something can require a decision...and that decision may not need to happen while you're sitting in the two-week wait.

And this is where I want to give you an actual protocol.

Four questions.

Question One: What Am I Carrying?

First, we get everything out of your head.

Not just the big things.

Everything.

My lining might not be thick enough.

I need to figure out whether we're doing another retrieval.

My mom is upset that I haven't been calling.

I haven't answered that baby shower invitation.

I need to research supplements.

What if this transfer doesn't work?

We need to figure out how we're paying for another round.

My husband seems fine, and I don't know how I feel about that.

I haven't responded to those texts.

I need to ask my doctor about that study I saw online.

I should probably look into another clinic.

I haven't been sleeping well.

I need to decide what we're telling people.

Write all of it down. Writing something down is a little way to trick your brain into believing that you’re already taking care of it. 

Sometimes the first thing we need is simply to see the weight.

There is something incredibly validating about looking at a list of 25 things and realizing:

Oh.

No wonder I'm exhausted-physically, mentally, emotionally.

You're not failing at coping.

You're carrying 25 things.

Question Two: Does This Require Me?

Now we start sorting.

Does this actually require me?

Not: Could I handle it?

Not: Would I normally handle it?

Not: Would I do it better?

Not: Will someone be disappointed if I don't?

Does it actually require me?

Your partner needs the medication schedule because they're doing your injection tonight?

Okay. That might require you.

Your mother is anxious because you haven't told her the exact date of your beta?

That does not necessarily require you.

Your coworker is curious about your treatment? Nope.

Your mother-in-law wants reassurance that you're staying positive? Hard pass.

Your friend feels guilty talking about her pregnancy around you? You can care about her.

You can love her. You can even have a conversation with her if you want to.

But you do not automatically become responsible for removing her discomfort.

This is where we separate proximity from responsibility.

Just because something has landed near you does not mean it belongs to you.

Question Three: Does This Require Me NOW?

Now we’re cooking!

Infertility and IVF create an enormous sense of urgency.

Everything feels like it needs to be figured out immediately.

But does it?

Maybe you will eventually need to decide whether you'll do another retrieval.

Do you have to decide that while you're waiting for your beta? No.

Maybe you'll eventually need to decide what you're doing with your remaining embryos.

Does that decision need to happen tonight while you're trying to fall asleep?

Probably not.

Maybe you need to decide whether you're attending your cousin's baby shower.

Is the RSVP due tomorrow? No? Then perhaps that decision does not need you today.

This is where I want you to remember:

Resolution and urgency are not the same thing.

Your brain wants resolution because unresolved things feel uncomfortable.

But discomfort does not create urgency.

Sometimes the most emotionally mature thing we can say is:

I don't know yet.

I'm not deciding that today.

That is a problem for Future Me.

And listen.

We don't want to make Future You an absolute dumping ground.

She's got stuff to do too.

But Future You has something Current You doesn't have.

More information.

Future You might know whether the transfer worked.

Future You might know what the doctor recommends.

Future You might know how you feel after you've had a week to process.

So sometimes deferring something isn't avoidance.

It's actually making a decision to address the problem when you have more capacity and better information.

Question Four: Where Does This Load Go?

Once you've identified the load, we have four options.

Carry it.

Drop it.

Delegate it.

Defer it.

Some things genuinely need to be carried.

Your medication schedule.

The appointment tomorrow.

The grief you're experiencing today.

We're not pretending those things don't exist.

Some things can be dropped.

Your coworker's curiosity.

The belief that you should be handling this better.

The imaginary obligation to make everyone comfortable with your boundaries.

The guilt about not being "positive enough."

Drop it.

Some things can be delegated.

Maybe your partner handles insurance calls.

Maybe somebody else researches pharmacies.

Maybe your spouse becomes the person who updates family.

Maybe your friend tells the group you won't be attending the shower.

Delegation isn't weakness. It's capacity management.

And some things can be deferred.

The decision about another retrieval.

The baby shower RSVP.

The question about what you'll do if all the embryos fail.

Not today.

Put a date on it if your brain needs reassurance.

"I will revisit this after my beta."

"I'll decide by October 1st."

"I'll talk to my doctor about this at our follow-up."

And then when your brain brings it back up at 2:17 in the morning, you can say:

We already have a plan for that.

Load Shedding Is Not Avoidance

And I want to make this distinction because I know some of you.

You're going to hear this and immediately wonder:

Am I just avoiding my feelings?

No.

Avoidance is:

I cannot tolerate this, so I am going to pretend it doesn't exist.

Load shedding is: I know this exists. I have intentionally decided that it does not require my attention right now.

Those are very different things.

Avoidance says: Never.

Load shedding often says: Not now.

Avoidance is unconscious escape. Load shedding is conscious allocation.

And I think that's especially important for those of us who have internalized the idea that good emotional health means constantly processing everything.

It doesn't.

You do not have to process every emotion the moment it appears. You do not have to solve every thought. You do not have to interrogate every fear.

Sometimes emotional health looks like saying:

Yep.

That's here.

And I'm not dealing with that today.

Now, we need to touch on the Discomfort of Putting It Down

And here's where I think the actual practice begins.

Because identifying what you can put down? Sometimes that's the easy part.

Actually putting it down is harder.

You decide you're not researching implantation symptoms anymore.

And fifteen minutes later your hand is reaching for your phone.

You decide your mom's disappointment belongs to your mom.

And then you feel guilty.

You decide you aren't going to think about another retrieval until your beta.

And your brain says:

Okay, but really quickly—

No.

We decided.

And this is why I don't want you to measure the success of Emotional Load Shedding by whether the thought comes back.

Of course it comes back. Count on it to return. 

Your brain has been carrying it because it thinks carrying it is useful.

Success is noticing:

Oh.

There's that particular grocery bag again.

And putting it back down.

Maybe twenty times.

Maybe fifty times.

That's the practice.

Because eventually your nervous system begins learning something new.

I can put something down without everything falling apart.

I can stop researching and still be responsible.

I can let someone be disappointed and still be loving.

I can postpone a decision and still be capable.

I can experience uncertainty without spending every available ounce of energy trying to eliminate it.

I can care deeply...without carrying everything.

Your Capacity Is a FINITE Resource

I think that's what I want you to leave with today.

Your emotional capacity is a resource.

It is not infinite. And that doesn't mean you're fragile.

It means you're human. Infertility asks an extraordinary amount from you.

So the answer cannot always be:

Try harder to carry it.

Get stronger.

Become more resilient.

Find a better coping skill so you can keep all 47 bags looped around your fingers.

Sometimes resilience looks like carrying difficult things.

And sometimes resilience looks like finally realizing: I don't actually have to carry all of this.

Some things are mine. Some things aren't. Some things matter today.

Some things can wait. Some things need my attention. Some things merely want my attention.

And those are not the same thing.

So if you're overwhelmed right now, I don't necessarily want you to ask:

How do I handle all of this better?

I want you to ask:

What am I carrying?

Does this require me?

Does this require me now?

And where does this load go?

Carry it.

Drop it.

Delegate it.

Defer it.

Not because the load isn't real.

Not because you don't care.

Not because you're giving up.

But because you are allowed to be discerning about what gets access to your finite emotional capacity.

You do not have to make the load lighter before you are allowed to put some of it down.

Sometimes...

you just put down the damn bags.

I'll talk to you next week.+