Beyond The Wait...
A Newsletter for Those Navigating the Complex Emotions of Infertility
Issue #21 8th September 2025
Dear Reader,
I was chatting with some friends recently who I don't see regularly and somehow pregnancy announcements came up. They couldn't understand why someone would feel angry hearing happy news. "Surely people just feel happy for other's?" they said.
I tried explaining that deep sense of unfairness when someone gets effortlessly what others have been desperately trying for. But I could see it didn't fully land. They could not see what someone else's news had to do with your own situation.
It reminded me of countless conversations I've had with clients who describe feeling so alone in their reactions to pregnancy announcements, baby showers, and the general ease with which others seem to build their families. The lack of understanding from those around us can be almost as painful as the fertility struggles themselves.
Deep Dive: When Others Don't Understand
One of the most isolating aspects of the fertility journey isn't the physical and emotional challenges people face. It's the reality that those around them often can't grasp the depth of what they're experiencing.
It's not their fault. Unless you've walked this path, it's genuinely difficult to understand why someone would grieve so deeply for something they have never had, or why a couple can't just "relax and let it happen," or why yet another pregnancy announcement feels like being punched in the stomach.
The Weight of Common Misunderstandings
When people don't understand fertility struggles, their responses often come from a place of wanting to help, but they can leave those struggling feeling more alone than ever. These comments aren't intentionally cruel, but they reveal just how differently others view the experience:
"At least you know you can get pregnant", "Maybe it's just not meant to be", "Have you tried not thinking about it?", "You're still young, there's plenty of time", "Just be happy for them, their pregnancy doesn't affect you".
Each of these responses, while meant to comfort, actually minimises the very real grief and trauma being experienced. They suggest that the pain is somehow optional, that someone could simply choose acceptance or gratitude instead of feeling the complex emotions that fertility challenges bring.
The Hidden Nature of Fertility Anger
Not having lived through it, there was so much my friends were missing about why pregnancy announcements can be so triggering:
That the anger isn't about the pregnant person. It's grief in hiding. It's screaming internally "why not me?" after years of hoping, trying, failing, and watching everyone else's dreams come true while yours remain out of reach.
It's the compound loss I talk about regularly. The absence of a baby, watching milestones pass you by, friends moving into a life stage you may never get to. The future you imagined, slipping further away each month.
You don't choose to feel angry. You don't want to resent happy news. And the guilt that follows makes it even worse. "I'm a terrible person for not feeling happy for them." But you can't help it. Your feelings are your feelings.
This anger is valid. It's your nervous system responding to loss after loss. It's not about being bitter, it's about being human.
The Invisible Nature of Fertility Grief
Part of what makes this so difficult is that fertility struggles involve grieving losses that others can't see. Those struggling are mourning the babies they hoped to hold by now, the timeline they imagined, the ease of conception they thought would be theirs, the family photos they pictured taking.
These are real losses, but they're invisible to the outside world. There's no funeral for a negative pregnancy test, no sympathy cards for a failed treatment cycle, no time off work for the grief of infertility. Society doesn't have rituals for the losses that come with fertility challenges, which makes others unsure how to respond, so often, they default to trying to talk people out of their feelings.
When Support Feels Like Criticism
Perhaps most painful is when the people closest to those struggling - partners, parents, or best friends - don't understand. When someone's mum suggests they "just enjoy their child free time" or their partner says "maybe we should be content with our family as it is", it can feel like the very people who should be supporting them are instead asking them to abandon their dreams.
This isn't because they don't love the person struggling. It's because watching someone you care about suffer is incredibly difficult, and it's natural to want to offer solutions or perspectives that might ease that pain. But when someone is in the depths of fertility struggles, these suggestions can feel like they're being asked to give up.
The Compound Effect
What makes this particularly brutal is that the misunderstanding compounds the existing pain. People are already dealing with the stress of treatments, the disappointment of failed cycles, the anxiety about the future. Then they have to navigate feeling misunderstood by those around them, which adds another layer of isolation and sometimes anger.
They might find themselves pulling away from social events, not because they don't want to see people, but because they're tired of having to explain or justify their feelings. They might stop sharing updates about their journey because they're exhausted by the responses they receive.
It's Not Your Job to Educate Everyone
Here's something I want those struggling to know: it's not their responsibility to help everyone understand their experience. They don't owe anyone explanations about why this matters so much, or why they can't just "move on," or why others' suggestions aren't helpful.
Everyone has every right to protect their energy and focus it on their own healing and journey. Some people will never fully understand, and that's okay. It doesn't make anyone's experience any less valid or important.
Finding Your People
While not everyone will understand, there are people who do. Sometimes it's other people on similar journeys, sometimes it's healthcare providers who specialise in fertility, sometimes it's therapists who work in this space. These connections become lifelines. Spaces where people don't have to explain why this hurts so much or to justify their feelings.
If you haven’t found your people yet, they're out there. Online communities, support groups, even newsletters like this one exist because there are others who understand exactly what you’re going through.
This Week's Self-Care Exercise: Boundary Setting Practice
Although it’s not your job to educate people, it can help to let people you spend time with know that there comments are not always helpful (if you feel up to it). This week, I invite you to practice setting gentle boundaries around fertility conversations. Think about responses you can prepare for common misunderstandings:
For "just relax": "I appreciate you wanting to help. What I need most right now is just someone to listen."
For "at least you have...": "I'm grateful for what I have AND I'm also grieving what I don't have. Both can be true."
For unsolicited advice: "Thank you for thinking of me. I'm working with medical professionals on this."
Practice these in your head. Having prepared responses can help you feel more empowered in difficult conversations and protect your emotional energy.
Let me know your thoughts
What's the most challenging comment or response you've received about your fertility journey? How do you navigate feeling misunderstood? Your experiences help remind all of us that we're not alone in this.
Remember Reader: You did not choose this, it is not your fault, and you are not alone.
With compassion,
Dr. Grace 💕
@thenotsofertilepsychologist
