My earliest memory: I’m seven years old, pretending to be pregnant by puffing out my belly and imagining I’m about to give birth. As a child, my favourite game was always playing “mom and dad.”
Like many others, we waited for the perfect moment to start a family — following the script of life we’re taught at school and on TV. After graduating, my partner Simon and I started our careers, bought our first home, and adopted our beautiful dog, Pumba. After a while, we felt settled and ready to begin this new chapter: parenthood.
Month after month, we kept trying, but my period always arrived right on time. After six months, the disappointment started to weigh heavily. Friends began announcing their pregnancies while I couldn’t understand what I was doing wrong. As time passed, it seemed like everyone around me had good news — cousins, former colleagues, acquaintances on social media, other friends, even my brother, and people who didn’t even want children that badly. Every announcement felt like a knife to the heart. The injustice, frustration, and confusion consumed me daily. With each passing month, the emotional pain and psychological distress took up more and more space in my everyday life.
Why me?
Why, when I’ve always had such a strong maternal instinct, do I not get to be a mother too? Don’t I deserve that happiness? I have so much love to give…
After a full year of trying, we turned to a fertility clinic, starting with all the basic tests in hopes of finding answers. Unfortunately, we were left in the dark — diagnosed with unexplained infertility. Great. Our reproductive systems seemed healthy, and yet no one could explain why one of the millions of Simon’s sperm cells couldn’t fertilize the egg I released each month. Not frustrating at all (yes, that’s sarcasm). We tried two intrauterine inseminations — both negative.
After taking a month off work due to exhaustion from infertility, Simon reached out to another clinic to learn more about IVF. For me, reaching that point felt like the ultimate failure.
We decided to take a break, to process everything, and eventually chose to go all in. In November 2022, I began ovarian stimulation, followed by egg retrieval and in vitro fertilization. Altogether, 38 follicles developed during stimulation, 19 eggs were retrieved, and we ended up with three embryos of… average quality. We were devastated.
Then, miraculously, I got pregnant naturally after IVF. We were over the moon. It was the greatest victory Simon and I had achieved in our eight years together. We were naïve, though, to think we had finally “made it.” At nine weeks, during our first ultrasound for trisomy screening, the doctor told us there was no heartbeat — the embryo had stopped developing around week eight. The next day, I was in the hospital undergoing a D&C procedure.
A few months later, we tried our first embryo transfer — negative. The second transfer brought our second pregnancy… and our second miscarriage. To this day, I can’t find the words to describe what Simon and I went through during those moments.
During the two years I spent on leave for severe burnout caused by infertility, I focused on healing. I saw my therapist weekly, discovered personal development, attended a silent meditation retreat, rested, took a long break from treatments — and grew.
Although infertility has been the deepest emotional pain of my life, today I recognize it as one of my greatest gifts. Because of infertility, I see life differently: I live fully, I am a new person, and I have exciting new ambitions.
Infertility allowed me to see clearly in many areas of my life, especially in my career. In August 2025, I resigned from my government position to start my own business. About 60% of my work is now dedicated to advancing the cause of infertility. Through our podcast Les Infertiles — now entering its third season at the end of October 2025 — I realized just how great the need is among fertility patients. That’s why I created a consulting service to support individuals and couples through their journeys, and I also launched networking events. And my ideas don’t stop there…
If there’s one thing infertility hasn’t taken from me, it’s my determination. In fact, it’s only made it stronger. My mission now is to better serve the French-speaking infertility community across Canada.
In the summer of 2026, Simon and I will finally say “I do,” celebrating more than eleven years together. While we’ve learned that we have no control over getting pregnant, we can control what our wedding day will look like — and that’s why our third and final embryo transfer will wait until after the big day. Let’s just say I want to enjoy a glass of wine with my guests… and my husband-to-be!
If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that after the rain comes the sunshine. The road to acceptance isn’t easy — I know. But once you give yourself permission to live your most beautiful life, no matter the outcome, everything becomes lighter and brighter.
With all my love,
Élodie Roy
Founder of Les Infertiles
You can find the Les Infertiles podcast on all streaming platforms and follow us on social media.