Infertility is a journey marked by waiting. Waiting for appointments. Waiting for test results. Waiting for cycles to begin or end. Waiting for two pink lines that never seem to appear.
The in-between moments — those long stretches of uncertainty — often feel the heaviest. They’re filled with questions that don’t have answers and a quiet ache that lingers beneath the surface of everyday life.
🌿 The Quiet Ache of the In-Between
What I’ve learned is that the waiting itself can feel harder than the procedures, the shots, or even the disappointments. At least in those moments, there is something tangible happening. But in the waiting, life can feel suspended, like I’m living in a parallel timeline where everything looks the same on the outside, but on the inside, I’m counting days and analyzing every symptom.
It’s exhausting to live in this hidden tension, where hope and grief coexist in the same breath.
💌 When Everyone Else Seems to Be Moving Forward
Sometimes the hardest part of waiting is watching others move through milestones, pregnancy announcements, baby showers, family photos, while I’m still here, holding onto what feels like empty hands. I’m happy for them, but the joy is complicated by the quiet reminder of what I’m still longing for.
In those moments, the weight of waiting presses deeper, whispering questions I can’t silence: When will it be my turn? Will it ever be my turn?
☕ Finding Anchors in the Uncertainty
While I don’t have control over the timeline, I’ve learned that small anchors can carry me through the in-between.
- Rituals: brewing morning coffee, journaling, or lighting a candle in the evening.
- Connection: sharing with a safe friend or finding comfort in others who understand this road.
- Permission: allowing myself to grieve, to hope, to rest — without guilt.
These don’t erase the weight, but they remind me that I’m still living, even here, even now.
🌸 A Gentle Reminder
If you’re walking through your own season of waiting, I want you to know you aren’t alone. The in-between can feel endless, but it doesn’t define your worth. You are still whole, still loved, and still allowed to find beauty in the middle of it all.
“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.” – Anne Lamott