Skip to main content

The Opponent in the Room: How to Be a Team When the Journey Gets Hard


Let’s talk about a dynamic that can quietly, insidiously creep into a partnership when you’re navigating the long, hard road of family-building. It’s a subtle shift that happens when the stress, grief, and frustration reach a boiling point. It’s a poison that can seep into the cracks of your relationship, often without you even realizing it’s happening. Without even meaning to, we can start to see our partner not as our teammate, but as the source of our pain.

Maybe it sounds like this:

  • A tense, silent car ride home after another doctor's appointment with disappointing news. The unspoken accusation hangs heavy in the air: "Is it your body? Is it my body? Whose 'fault' is this?"
  • A sharp, angry fight about money, where "the cost of treatment" becomes "the money you wanted to spend on that last cycle."
  • One partner wanting to talk about the journey constantly, needing to process every detail, while the other wants to escape into work or a TV show, leading to feelings of "you don't care enough" versus "you're obsessed with this."
  • A moment of bitterness when one partner feels they are carrying the entire physical burden, while the other feels helpless and on the sidelines.

In these moments, the person who is supposed to be your safe harbor starts to feel like the storm. The person who is your greatest ally starts to feel like your opponent. And this, my friend, is one of the most painful and dangerous places a partnership can be. It’s where the isolation of infertility becomes a chasm right in your own home.

If you’ve ever felt this way, please know you are not alone. The pressure of this journey is immense, and it’s a natural human response to look for a place to put our pain, and our partner is often the closest target. But today, I want to offer you a powerful reframe, a mantra that can be a lifeline for your relationship. It’s a truth that we in the GrowingMyFamily community return to again and again, a compass to find your way back to each other.

The opponent is the circumstance, not each other.

Let that sink in. Read it again. Your partner is not the enemy. Their body is not the enemy. Your body is not the enemy. The enemy is the infertility. The enemy is the medical diagnosis. The enemy is the financial strain, the emotional toll, the endless waiting, the unfairness of it all. The enemy is the grief, the uncertainty, and the exhaustion.

When you can both agree to name the true opponent, you can stop fighting each other and start fighting for each other. You can turn from facing off, and instead, stand shoulder-to-shoulder, looking out at the problem together. This shift is everything. It is the key to navigating this journey with your love not just intact, but stronger, deeper, and more resilient than ever before.

So, how do we put this into practice? How do we actively choose to be on the same team, especially on the hard days when it feels impossible?

1. Name the Real Enemy Out Loud (And Often)

Language is powerful. It shapes our reality. The next time you’re in a moment of tension, try to consciously identify and name the true source of the frustration.

Instead of: "I’m so frustrated with you for not wanting to talk about this."

Try: "I’m feeling so overwhelmed by this whole situation, and it’s making me feel really lonely. It makes me want to connect with you. Can we find some time to talk later when we’re both feeling calmer?"

Instead of: "I can’t believe we have to spend more money on this."

Try: "It’s so frustrating that this journey is so expensive. It’s putting so much pressure on us. Let’s look at the budget together as a team and see if we can find a way to make it feel less scary."

This simple shift in language stops the blame game in its tracks. It externalizes the problem. It reminds you both that you are united against an external force, and it invites collaboration instead of confrontation.

2. Create a "Team Huddle" Ritual

A sports team huddles up before a big play to get on the same page, to check in, and to offer encouragement. You can, and should, do the same.

The Practice: Make a non-negotiable ritual of checking in with each other. It could be for five minutes every night before you go to sleep, or over coffee every morning before the day begins. No phones, no TV, just you.

The Questions: "How are you feeling about everything today, on a scale of 1 to 10?" "What was the hardest part of today for you?" "What’s one thing I can do to make you feel like we’re a team right now?" "Is there anything you need from me that you're not getting?"

The Result: This ritual creates a consistent, safe space to share your feelings without them having to boil over into a fight. It prevents the "death by a thousand cuts," where small resentments build up over time. It reinforces the idea that you are in this together, day in and day out.

3. Acknowledge and Honor Your Different Positions on the Field

In any team sport, players have different roles. One is on offense, one is on defense. One is a strategist, one is a power player. It’s the same in your partnership. You will likely have different coping mechanisms, and that’s okay. The danger comes when we expect our partner to cope in the exact same way we do.

The "Talker" and the "Processor": One of you might need to talk everything out immediately to feel better. The other might need quiet time to process their feelings internally before they can speak.

The "Researcher" and the "Feeler": One of you might cope by diving into research, spreadsheets, and plans to feel a sense of control. The other might cope by focusing on emotional needs, self-care, and connection.

Neither of these roles is wrong. They are just different. The key is to see your different styles not as a source of conflict, but as a strength of your team. The researcher brings the plan, and the feeler makes sure your hearts are taken care of along the way. When you can respect each other’s roles ("I know you need some quiet time to think, so let's talk after dinner," or "I know you need a plan, so let's look at the research together"), you stop trying to force your partner to play the game the same way you do.

4. Celebrate Your Team Wins, Especially the Small Ones

When you’re facing a big, intimidating opponent, it’s crucial to celebrate the small victories that keep your morale high.

The Wins: A "win" isn't just a positive pregnancy test. A win is surviving a tough conversation with a family member without fighting. A win is making a decision about a clinic together. A win is one of you having a really hard day and the other one ordering takeout and putting on their favorite movie without being asked. A win is just getting through a really hard week with kindness and grace for each other.

The Celebration: Acknowledge it out loud. "Hey, that was a really hard conversation, but we handled it so well as a team. I’m proud of us." This simple act of recognition reinforces your bond and reminds you that you are effective and strong together. It builds a library of positive memories to draw from when things get tough.

This journey will challenge you in ways you never imagined. It will hold a magnifying glass up to every crack in your foundation. But by consciously and repeatedly choosing to see the circumstance, not each other, as the opponent, you can use that pressure to forge a partnership that is more resilient, more empathetic, and more deeply loving than you ever thought possible.

Your love for each other is your greatest strategy. It’s your secret weapon. And it’s the one thing that will guarantee you come out of this journey as winners, no matter the outcome.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Woven Threads: How Parenthood Through Biology and Adoption Shaped Our Hearts for Donor Embryos

The paths to building a family are as varied and intricate as the families themselves. Each journey, with its unique twists and turns, shapes us, teaches us, and expands our hearts in ways we might never have anticipated. My own path to the family I cherish today has been woven with distinct, yet beautifully interconnected threads: first, the experience of biological motherhood, then the profound journey of adopting our three children, welcoming another biological child and later, the path of welcoming our two younger sons through the use of donated embryos. It's this rich tapestry of experiences, particularly the deep lessons learned as an adoptive mom, that I believe uniquely prepared my heart and mind for embracing motherhood again through donor embryos. It wasn't about one path being "better" or "easier," but about how each experience informed the next, deepening our understanding of what family truly means. If you're navigating your own complex path...

When Fear Gives Way to Family

Hey there friend! Let's talk about how much things can change. If someone had told me nearly fifteen years ago, when our family was just beginning its adoption journey, what our life would look like today, I would have probably laughed. Or cried. Or both. The person I was back then… I almost cringe thinking about her. She thought she knew everything about how to be a good adoptive parent. The truth is, I had no idea. It feels vulnerable to admit that, but maybe you understand. Maybe you’ve had moments on your own journey where you look back at a past version of yourself with a strange mix of embarrassment and compassion. The things I was so sure of then have been quietly, gently replaced over the years. They've been replaced by a deeper understanding—an understanding that came from listening, really listening, to other adoptive parents, and most importantly, to adult adoptees themselves. Their wisdom has been my greatest teacher, showing me what our kids truly need, the importa...

The Day Our Family Expanded at a Tim Hortons

Some moments in life are so pivotal, so charged with emotion and anticipation, that they etch themselves into your memory with vivid clarity. For us, one such moment unfolded on a Thursday afternoon in May. The setting was unassuming: a corner table at a Tim Hortons. But what happened there wasn't just a meeting; it was the beginning of a new chapter, the day our family story expanded in the most beautiful and unexpected way. It was the day we first met our younger sons' genetic parents. Our journey to this Tim Hortons table had been, like so many of yours, one filled with hope, longing, and the unique path of donor conception. We had chosen to build our family using donor embryos—a decision we made with careful thought and immense gratitude. We knew, intellectually, that this meeting was important, a step towards the open and honest family we envisioned. But nothing quite prepared us for the emotions of that afternoon. There was a nervousness, of course. What would they be lik...