If you’re reading this right now you are likely a member of the club. The infertility club. You didn’t sign up, but you’ve certainly paid dues. You hate it here and you desperately wish you could get out. You also might wish the people closest to you really understood what it feels like to be here. Tests, timing, wishing, waiting. It’s too much. If you’re in the club here are some things I want you to know. It’s ok…
- To cry into your coffee
- To politely decline an invitation to a baby shower
- To feel hope, then rage, then hope, then rage
- To buy yourself flowers
- To feel both relief and anger when a test comes back normal
- To want to take a break from trying
- To feel overwhelming confusion about your options
- To feel jealous
- To choose a different path toward parenthood
- To choose to try the path you’re already on one more time
- To try all the lucky rituals associated with fertility
- To laugh
- To rest
- To advocate for yourself
- To ask your doctor all your questions
- To ask for help
- To tell your friends, family, etc. that you just can’t talk about it right now
- To tell your friends, family, etc. that you need them to just listen
- To hate the phrase “everything happens for a reason”
- To feel like you and your partner are having distinctly different experiences
- To want out of the club
And also—here are a few things you can do that might help right now:
Get clear on what you need today—not forever, just today.
Some days it’s information. Some days it’s a nap. Let your needs shift.
Find a therapist or support group who gets it.
Not just any therapist. Not just any friend. Someone trained in reproductive mental health or who has lived experience.
Make a plan for one decision at a time.
Infertility is decision fatigue layered on grief. Choose to make just one choice at a time. That’s enough.
Create a “script” for hard conversations.
Whether it’s “We’re taking a break, thanks for asking,” or “We’re still figuring things out,” you don’t owe details to anyone.
Keep a fertility journal.
Not just for tracking cycles—but for tracking your feelings, questions, patterns, and progress. Let it be your space to unload.
Check in with your partner using prompts.
Try: “What’s been hardest for you lately?” or “What’s one thing I’ve done that’s helped?” You’re on the same team, even if it feels distant sometimes.
Say no.
No to events. No to advice. No to anyone who makes you feel like this is your fault.
Say yes.
Yes to tiny joys. Yes to distractions. Yes to anything that gives your body and mind even a moment of peace.
You don’t have to do it all.
You don’t have to be strong every second.
You don’t have to pretend this is okay.
You are allowed to want more, grieve what you’ve lost, and still hope for what’s ahead.
We see you. We honor your fight. We’re holding space for you this week—and always.