5 Unexpected Feelings After I (Finally) Got My BFP

After years and years of trying and treatments, what does it REALLY feel like to finally get that BFP? Fruitful Founder Elyse Ash shares 5 feelings she wasn’t expecting after learning her first frozen embryo transfer had actually worked…

It took over 1,000 days for my husband and me to see a positive pregnancy test (also known as a “BFP” – Big Fat Positive). That’s 3 years, 2 rounds of IVF, 1 frozen embryo transfer and dozens of blood work, medications, and ultrasounds just to see two pink lines. And now that I’m here? It feels weird.

Don’t get me wrong, I am SO not complaining. As someone who struggled for years, I know that there is nothing worse than a pregnant woman who acts like a complete martyr about it. So I’ll preface this by saying these are NOT complaints. I am very grateful for my BFP and I recognize that while it took us three years to get here, it oftentimes takes much longer and many more rounds of fertility treatments.

That said, I was surprised by a lot of the feelings that appeared after we got our happy, long-awaited news. Here are some of the most shocking and unexpected feelings I experienced after learning that I was in fact (whispers) pregnant.


  1. Nothing is different, even though everything is different. For some naïve reason, I expected my whole attitude to change as soon as the progesterone and estrogen started coursing through my body. No more would I be the neurotic wannabe mama who obsessed over temperature tracking and pomegranate juice…NO…I was going to be a hippie earth mama who cut out all refined sugar and gluten for her ever-growing embryo…barefoot in a meadow with a flower crown. NOPE. I’m just as neurotic and anxious as I’ve ever been. I am the exact same person, except that perhaps now I’m MORE neurotic because it feels as though there is something to lose. Every symptom I feel, I worry. Every time I don’t feel a symptom at all, I worry. My life is one long endless stream of independent worries. Same as when I was going through IVF…


  1. I’m still jealous. I innocently thought that once I got pregnant that my fertility-related emotional triggers would be less intense—pregnancy announcements, baby shower invites and the ever-offensive baby bumps (get your stomach and floral print dresses away from me). I assumed that once you got your BFP, you fell into a state of “pregnesia” – amnesia about your infertility. That life would be like one Free People meets Land of Nod catalog and everything would be magical. Not so. I’m just as easily triggered by others’ pregnancy announcements, baby bumps and ultrasound photos. I’m just as jealous. I’m just as bratty and insufferable. And while I try really hard to just focus on my own story and be grateful for my own future, I still find it hard not to resent others who didn’t struggle. Who were pregnant with “whoopsie” babies. The trauma and fear of infertility doesn’t just evaporate…it’s always there. It’s always part of your story (for better and for worse, too).


  1. I don’t belong. When I was TTC, I knew who my tribe was. My tribe was other women who were trying to conceive…others struggling with infertility and grief and loss. With them, I felt like I could be myself. I could vent and cry and rant and rave….but now I’ve been kicked out of the TTC club…which would maybeee be ok if I felt like I actually belonged in the pregnancy club. But that doesn’t feel right either. There’s too much damn joy in those groups – too much talk about baby slings and names and pediatricians. And I’m just not there yet. It feels like I have one foot in infertility world and one foot in mom world and I don’t really belong in either. I belong in the “Technically Pregnant But Who Knows for How Long Oh and Also I’m Terrified Out of My Freaking Mind” world…but there aren’t a lot of FB groups with that name.


  1. I’m scared to talk about it. I assumed that if I ever got pregnant, I wouldn’t be able to shut up – I’d want to scream from the rooftops, “I’M PREGNANTTTTT! POUR ICE CREAM DOWN MY THROAT!!!!” Instead, I’ve noticed that sharing the news gives me severe anxiety. Even the word “pregnant” feels like one giant jinx. Like saying “Beetlejuice” or “Voldemort.” I’m so scared that by sharing the news, that everything becomes real. And when everything becomes real, then there’s a chance of losing it all.


  1. I’m annoyed when “friends” who weren’t really there for me during infertility now want to dish about breastfeeding and bibs. I remember every single person who was there for me when I was a depressed, anxious infertile person. When I was stressed and scared and would spontaneously cry at inappropriate places. I remember the friends who got me cards or remembered important medical dates or asked me how I was. I also remember the people who conveniently disappeared from my life when things got emotional and messy. Funnily enough, many of the people who couldn’t be there for me when shit was REAL now want to give me advice about baby registries and natural morning sickness remedies…well this is incredibly not cool. Call me petty. Call me small. I’m both of those things! But the people who weren’t there for me don’t just get to swoop in for the swaddling portion of my regularly scheduled life. Nope.


I guess I’m still just getting used to this new phase. I’ve been trapped in the anxious, expensive, insane phase of trying to conceive for so long, that it’s hard to break my mental habits.

But I want to. I want to relax and try to at least enjoy some of this ride; after all, this might be our only child. This might be my only pregnancy. And I hate the idea of just obsessing and stressing and being bitter the whole time because I’m too lazy or damaged to push myself into feeling joy. This baby deserves joy. Brad and I deserve joy.

Good thing I have another 3 months to figure this thing out…

Elyse Ash is the founder and CEO of Fruitful Fertility. It took her and her husband Brad three years, two rounds of IVF and one frozen embryo transfer to see their first positive pregnancy test which brought them their daughter, born in March 2018. Elyse lives in Minneapolis and loves poetry, hockey, social justice, Beyonce and pretending she’s into yoga.
  1. JessieO


    Elyse, Thank you for sharing. I can totally relate! Especially the past of not knowing your tribe. And even now that I have a baby, sometimes I want to declare to all how hard it was to get him and how we almost lost him. Like, you don't even know what it is like to be a "new mom, after infertility and a traumatic birth". But alas these things are part of mine, my husband's and my son's story, and I need to respect that and learn to move past it.

  2. Lydia


    I'm 6 years removed from what you're describing here — going from TTC to finally getting a BFP. But I remember each of these emotions oh-so-clearly. And six years later I can attest to the fact that #2 endures far beyond this pregnancy ("I'm still jealous"). I have two kids (both FETs) and have finished building my family, and I still get pissed at whoopsie pregnancies. It never goes away. Thanks for writing this.

  3. Katie


    This is incredible and TOTALLY communicates everything I went through once I got pregnant after 3 years of TTC. Every point is so, so true, especially. Loved reading and thanks for sharing.

    • Katie


      Oops. Edit to above ^^

      … especially "Even the word 'pregnant' feels like one giant jinx."

  4. Sadie


    Thank you for this blog. I find out if IVF worked tomorrow and I’ve been mentally freaking out. My husband and I have been TTC for 9 years. Yes, nine, and this article helped calm me down. I’m both scared and excited for tomorrow. Thank you again!

  5. Nora


    I definitely could have written this article myself TODAY! Going through all these feels right now. I reached out to a pregnancy after infertility support group through Resolve, but they said they are inactive because all members have had their babies. Anyone want to start up a new one?! I feel like I need support way more now than during TTC journey!!

  6. Lindsay


    This was so helpful to read as I am having ALL of these feelings (among others). Thank you for putting into words all of these thoughts so many of us have.

  7. Lesley


    I just kept saying yes, yes, yes and more yes….you get it & that is a breath of fresh air! Thank you, thank you for writing this!

  8. Anonymous

    You took the words right out of my mouth! I’m going this this right now and wondering how I’m even going to make it to the viability scan. It is comforting to know I’m not the only one! Thank you for your honest x

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