Infertility is not always loud. Sometimes it is a quiet ache, a private grief, a hidden waiting that plays out silently while the rest of the world carries on. On the outside, life may look the same. I go to work, I show up for friends, I smile at family gatherings. But beneath the surface, there is a story unfolding that few people see, one that shapes nearly every thought and rhythm of my days.
🌿 The Weight of What Isn’t Said
When people ask, “When are you having kids?” I often smile politely and say “Hopefully one day…” and then change the subject. They don’t see how that question lands like a stone in my chest.
When a pregnancy announcement fills my feed, I type “Congratulations!” with genuine joy, but also with tears that fall when I lay down at night.
When I walk through the aisles of the store and pass by tiny clothes and toys, I try not to linger too long. No one notices the way I silently remind myself to just breathe.
These are the moments of silence. The things people don’t see. The words unsaid, the tears hidden, the longing carried quietly in my heart.
💌 The Pressure to Stay Strong
There is an unspoken expectation that I should be hopeful, positive, resilient. Some days I am all of those things. Other days, the silence grows heavy. Infertility is not just a medical journey, it’s an emotional one that seeps into every corner of life.
It’s the silence of taking another test and slipping it into the trash quietly so no one sees the negative result (something I’ve done more than I would care to admit.) Feeling like I have failed not only myself but my husband.
It’s the silence of sitting in the waiting room at the clinic, surrounded by others, but feeling utterly alone. No matter how many people fill that room, and may be going through similar struggles, it still feels so empty.
It’s the silence of smiling through baby showers when my own arms feel empty. Celebrating milestones for others is something I so enjoy, but that does not mean I don’t continue to feel sad for myself that I may never get that.
Strength doesn’t always look like pushing forward bravely. Sometimes it looks like showing up at all, even when my heart is breaking.
☕ The Hidden Rhythms of Daily Life
Infertility shapes daily life in ways that are invisible to others. It’s in the vitamins lines up on the counter, the appointments schedules around work, the way I mark time by cycles instead of seasons.
It’s the constant mental math: What day am I on? When do I start the next medication? How many days until I test?
On the outside, I look like I’m living an ordinary day. Social media is a highlight reel of all the good going on in my life. But underneath, every step is wrapped in this quiet, relentless rhythm of waiting.
🌸 What I Wish People Knew
Infertility is not just about the inability to conceive. It’s about the emotional toll of living in the in-between. It’s about grieving what hasn’t happened while still holding on to hope that it might. (I have a blog post talking all about the in-between.)
I wish people knew that their words matter, but sometimes silence is kinder than easy advise
I wish people knew that I don’t need solutions – I need presence. Someone to sit with me in the ache without trying to fix it.
I wish people knew that their casual questions about children touch the most tender places of my heart.
🌙 Breaking the Silence
Writing these words is part of breaking the silence for me. It’s admitting that infertility is not just a medical condition to be treated, it’s a human experience to be felt. While I don’t have all the answers, I know that speaking it out loud helps carry the weight.
For anyone else walking this road, I want you to know: your silence is seen. Your hidden tears are valid. Your story matters, even if it feels invisible to the world.
✨ Finding Gentle Anchors
Even in the silence, I’ve found small ways to ground myself. These little practices remind me that life is still unfolding, even in the waiting:
- Journaling before bed to release what I can’t carry.
- Taking a quiet walk outside and noticing the changing sky.
- Lighting a candle to create space for peace.
- Letting myself cry when I need to, instead of holding it in.
These rituals don’t erase the silence, but they give it room to breathe.
Closing Reflection
Infertility is filled with unspoken moments, the pauses between words, the smiles that mask tears, the ordinary days that are anything but ordinary. If you see someone walking through this, remember that there is more beneath the surface than you’ll ever known/
Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for one another is simple to be present – to listen, to notice, to honor the weight of what is unseen.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
– Maya Angelou