Transfer Day

The Unexpected Emotional Disconnect

Written by Emily.

This post is particularly vulnerable for me, because it’s a topic I haven’t even fully processed myself. I haven’t talked about this with family, friends. And to be honest, I think that comes from a place of embarrassment.

I’m talking about the Transfer Day Emotional Disconnect. 

Everyone told me embryo transfer day was beautiful. Full of hope, full of emotion, full of love and excitement. Phrases like “this is so incredible,” “I cannot believe this is happening,” “it’s so amazing,” and on and on and on.

And I felt none of that. 

I really didn’t feel anything other than anxiety. 

Those people were right - transfer day IS incredible. We literally received a photo of our embryo - a tiny ball of cells that I now hold in my arms between writing posts. We got to see the actual implantation on an ultrasound - the bright little light of the embryo being injected into my uterus. By all accounts, it was a beautiful day, and should’ve been emotional, but I found myself frozen. 

Fear, anxiety, disbelief, and all while processing that I was, in that exact moment, pregnant, was more than my mind was willing to comprehend at once -

so it shut off. 

I spent most of that day in bed, doing anything and everything to get my mind off the transfer. Truthfully, it just felt like any of the other one million appointments we had that month, but everyone put such an emphasis on this one that I knew it was different, that I should be responding differently, even if I wasn’t. 

And that made me sad. I was upset that I couldn’t feel a deep connection to this beautiful moment. Sad that my anxieties were overpowering the beauty of the day. Sad that, like so many other aspects of pregnancy and conception, the science of IVF had taken that spark of joy from me. 

But most of all - I felt embarrassed. Embarrassed that I couldn’t feel the depth of that moment. Embarrassed that I didn’t match Adam’s excitement that day, and that he could tell. Embarrassed that we spent all this time, money, and effort to get to that moment, and yet it felt like just another day.

This feeling made me question my desire to be a mother. Should I be a mom if I can’t celebrate the beauty of conception? Would I eventually be excited about this? Would this emotional disconnect persist into delivery and beyond? Would I even be a good mom if I am this disconnected from this moment? 

All of those thoughts hurt, and they hurt deep. To question yourself and what you’ve worked towards for months was something I wasn’t ready for, and it took a long time to escape that feeling. 

But eventually I started feeling different, physically. I was a little nauseous, a little brain fogged, and a little extra tired. Certain foods sounded better than others, and some made me turn my nose up in an instant. So I started testing. And once that little stick confirmed my suspicions, the emotions flooded in. I was pregnant.

It worked. 

The emotions of that moment were real, raw, and happy. We did it! The science of IVF took a lot from me, but the gift it gave me was exponentially better. 

And I sit here today, with that little man that was once nothing more than a bright light on an ultrasound, and I feel more joy than I could’ve imagined. His smiles when he sees me confirm that I am a good mom, despite how I felt on transfer day. 

So I’m here to tell you that if the world seems more excited and in awe of your journey than you are in this moment - that’s ok. You’re not broken, you’re not going to be a bad mom. You are a woman navigating a depth of emotion most cannot even describe. Science may take some of your spark, but it will never dull your shine.