Category: Infertility

Hope

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Dear No One,

Hope. “A feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.”

Despair. “The complete loss or absence of hope.”

Every month while a couple is trying to get pregnant, they are extremely hopeful. They look up when the due date would be. They think about when they can tell their family. They think about when their first appointment/ultrasound will be. They start planning.

I did this. I am a super planner. I was very naive and SO sure we’d get pregnant on one of our rounds of using clomid (3 years ago). I planned how I’d tell Marcus. How we’d tell our families. How our child’s age would compare to his or her cousins’ ages. We had names. We were so ready.

Month after month, you pick yourself up when your period comes. Your hope comes back. With every passing month, though, that hope starts to dwindle. It becomes despair. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Guilt. Pain.

It is March. Our embryo transfer is March 19. I should be excited, right? As soon as March hit, though, I realized that I haven’t had any hope for getting pregnant in a long time. I am ready and I am excited for the opportunity. But I find myself guarding my heart as I am scared to hope.

I am scared to take a pregnancy test again as it normally triggers a lot of tears and pain. I am scared this won’t work. I am scared my body can’t do this. I am scared to hope. I am scared to feel. I am scared if this doesn’t work, I will only know despair. I am scared.

But I have to have hope. I wouldn’t be able to put my body through all of this if I wasn’t hopeful that it will work. I know beneath it all, I have hope. And no matter what, I am positive we will build our family one way or another.

So for those of you out there who are struggling to hope, keep this in mind:

“We must accept finite disappointment but must never lose infinite hope.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

All my love,

Betsy

Strength Through Infertility

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Dear No One,

Infertility can suck you in and try to drown you. Infertility strips you of so many things you maybe didn’t even know could be taken.

Dreams. I grew up dreaming of what my family would look like someday. At one of my bridal showers, we played a game that compared Marcus and my answers to different questions. They asked the question, “How many children will you have?” I answered, “3-6.” While that got a few surprised looks, I knew I wanted a BIG family. I want the full house. I want the chaos. I want loud. I dreamed of this even before I met Marcus. I longed for the day to be a mommy.

Faith. I rarely talk about my faith. This is partially due to the fact that I lost it during some of the worst parts of our infertility. Completely lost it. I struggled. I still struggle. While I am finding my way back, it is still a struggle. Whether you have a faith that can’t be shaken or no faith at all, it is hard to hear, “It’s all in God’s plans” or “in God’s timing.” While I believe He is walking with me in this journey, I believe I also have the power to make decisions and move forward. I don’t sit around and wait for signs. I make decisions. I move forward, and I ask God to walk with me and give me strength through it.

Control. Anyone else a control freak?? I know I can’t be the only one. You learn very quickly with infertility that you have little to no control. Your body does what it does. Medicine can only help so much. Sometimes there is nothing that modern medicine can do to help.

Time. We have been trying for four years now. With not one positive pregnancy test. We went through the adoption process. We are on our first round of IVF. When you are in the middle of trying, babies are on your mind about 99.9% of the time. I started medicine for our first round of IVF in December. It is March tomorrow, and we still haven’t transferred one embryo. Four months for one chance. ONE. I thought waiting to start trying again every month was a long wait. Infertility consumes your time.

Friends. While everyone tries to be supportive, most can just simply not understand. It is hard to watch others around you continue to live their lives, while you feel a daily struggle to put a fake smile on your face and pretend your heart isn’t breaking.

Hope. Every woman who has ever tried to get pregnant knows how devastating it is to get a negative test, but your hope comes right back again the next month. After you pee on a test so many times, your hope is harder to find.

Goodness. That is a lot, and it doesn’t even begin to cover everything you can lose. You may be thinking, “That is all so depressing Betsy!” Try experiencing it. It IS depressing. Infertility consumes you in so many ways. But you know what? It also brought me a few things.

Strength. You don’t know your own strength until it is tested. And boy has my strength been tested.

Patience. Adoption. Infertility. AKA wait…wait…wait…wait…wait. NOTHING happens quickly. I still struggle at times, but I am a lot more patient now than I used to be.

Friends (sisters). Infertility is a sisterhood. Any relationship I have is instantly taken to another level when we both have experienced infertility. There is just an instant understanding. And huge support system you didn’t even know you needed.

Knowledge. Yes, I can tell you ALL about ovulation and hormones and shots. I mean what I learned about myself. I have a friend that experienced a miscarriage that told me, “I feel like I can’t go back to the person I was.” The truth? You can’t. And you shouldn’t. Allow yourself to grow from your experiences. I am not the person I was four years ago, and I wouldn’t want to be.

 

In every hard situation, there is pain. You lose parts of yourself. But you also find another side to yourself that is even stronger. Some days will be dark. Some days will hurt like hell. But some days you will see the light. You will feel that spark of hope again. Every day is a challenge. Let yourself have the bad days. Hold onto the good days to get you through the worst. When infertility tries to strip you of everything, fight to show you are stronger.

And for those days you feel lost and alone, know that I am here. I am thinking of you every day. I will show you your strength when you are in doubt.

All my love,

Betsy

IVF: Round One

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Dear No One,

I headed into January with so much hope and excitement. In December, I read a bunch of blogs, researched IVF, and connected with others on Instagram. I got myself in the most positive state of mind I could. I was ready. I was so excited. This was our shot. I was feeling so positive, I even thought we may be that couple that gets a ton of healthy embryos, have everything go perfectly, and get pregnant the first round.

There is a lot (I mean A LOT) that goes into the process of IVF. Let me break some of it down into some of the simpler steps.

-I took birth control for 3 weeks and antibiotics for 2 weeks to prep my body.

-I went in for a baseline ultrasound and blood work to make sure my body was ready to begin. Basically, they were making sure my ovaries weren’t producing any eggs on their own.

-4 days later I started taking IVF meds. One shot in the morning, one shot in the evening. And lots of other pills to prep my body (prenatal vitamins, steroids, Vitamin D, etc.)

-After 3 days of shots, I went in for another ultrasound and blood work.

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-2 days later, I went in for ultrasound and blood work.

-I went in for ultrasound and blood work the next day. Added another shot in the evenings.

-2 days later, I went in for ultrasound and blood work. Stopped all current shots. Took “trigger” shot that evening to help eggs mature and prepare for egg retrieval.

-The next day I went in for blood work.

-The next day I went in for egg retrieval. You are put under light sedation and aren’t allowed to work that day.

Ok. Was that schedule crazy?? Yep! But would you believe me if I told you that shots were the easiest part of IVF for me? Did I hesitate the first few times before sticking a needle into my body? Yes, but I got use to it.

Symptoms? Almost none for the first week. Didn’t sleep well (thanks to steroids), but I was feeling amazing for the first week. Then Sunday hit, and I was extremely tired and my belly was getting sore and swollen as my ovaries went from the size of walnuts to the size of oranges. Honestly, though, I didn’t feel nearly as bad as I thought I would going into this process.

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How the last couple days before egg retrieval looked. Tired mama! (and a very understanding baby)

What was the hardest part(s)? After my ultrasounds and blood work, a nurse would call me in the afternoon to update me. When I went to my day 5 ultrasounds and blood work, I was told my estrogen levels had jumped really high. Therefore, they adjusted my meds and made a next day appointment to see how my body responded to the changes. On my day 8 ultrasound and blood work, they called me that afternoon and told me a few things.

One, my body was ready for egg retrieval in two days, so I had to take my trigger shot that evening. Yay!

Two, my estrogen had continued to climb too high, and the typical trigger shot was dangerous for me to take at that point. Therefore, they sent a prescription for a different shot to a specialty pharmacy downtown. When I got there, they said they didn’t have it. Then we were sent to another pharmacy 20 minutes away to get the ONE shot they had left. Cue anxiety.

Third, the nurse told me that we had to cancel the embryo transfer due to my high hormone levels. Embryo transfer is typically done 5 days after the egg retrieval. Instead of the possibility of finding out we’re pregnant in a couple weeks, we have to put the embryo transfer off for at least 6-8 weeks. This was very disappointing for me. I medically understood the reason. The nurses were concerned I could get Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome (OHSS), which can be extremely painful and lead to draining fluid out of your abdomen. Obviously I didn’t want that, and I was thankful that they were staying on top of my health. Does it take away the desire to want to be pregnant? Nope. We have now been trying over three years. The first part of the IVF process already took 6 weeks. My dream of being pregnant just keeps getting pushed back. I have learned patience through infertility and the adoption process, but I’m not perfect. I am a planner. Hearing another delay hurt, but we decided we should just focus our prayers and energy on getting good, healthy embryos.

Egg retrieval day. We got 16 eggs! 16! Yay!! That’s a great number. Then we wait until the next day to hear how many eggs fertilized overnight.

Three. Three out of sixteen eggs fertilized. That number drop was terrifying. We wouldn’t hear another update for five days. Those little embryos needed to make it to day 5, then they would be frozen until my body is ready for the transfer. Come on, little babes. I didn’t know I could feel so connected to embryos that weren’t even in my body. This was THE hardest part of IVF for us. Waiting. Waiting to hear if any of our embabies made it to day 5.

Two. Two embryos made it. They are now frozen. Waiting for their mama to get ready for them. Best news. We are so very thankful that we have two embryos. Two opportunities. Two embabies. There is not a day I don’t think about them.

I have lost track of the amount of hurdles we have had to jump over to get to our children. This round of IVF was a big hurdle. I went in thinking I was going to be the strongest woman who ever went through it. Take it like a champ. I ended it crying myself to sleep the night before we heard how many embryos made it to day 5, as the thought of losing any of them was too much for me to handle.

Was it easier than I thought it would be? At times. Was it harder than I thought it would be? At times.

It’s not over. We have more hurdles to get over before we have any pregnancy announcement, but I thought my supporters deserved an update. We are doing really well (especially now that my hormones have leveled out! Poor Marcus).

If you made it this far in this long post, thank you. And thank you to the wonderful, beautiful souls that took my hand and walked through every step with us. Whether you text, called, gave us care packages, babysat, or prayed for us, we are forever grateful.

All my love,

Betsy

Another Battle

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Dear No One,

Marcus and I have A LOT going on this month. Most importantly, we are celebrating Daxon’s first birthday. We also had a visit with his birth mom, adoption walk, friends visiting from St. Louis, Thanksgiving, and one of my best friend’s wedding. Why not add a little more to our to do list?

We decided once Marcus started his job that we would go to a fertility specialist. We couldn’t get in until, you guessed it, November! We knew since March of 2015 that we would need some assistance in getting pregnant, but after a surgery and recovery, we decided to not keep doing tests. We needed some time to physically and emotionally recover. After three years of trying on our own with no success, we knew it was time to get some help. Therefore, we started out with this recent visit getting lots of tests done.

After all of those tests, we were told that our only possibility of having biological children would be through IVF (In Vitro Fertilization). This is the last, most desperate and drastic step for couples struggling to get pregnant. Unfortunately for us, it is the only option.

When we found out, I was initially just happy to have answers. We’ve been waiting years to find this out, so there is definitely some relief in knowing.

I would be lying, though, if I didn’t tell you that I’m terrified. I instantly started doing research and reading personal blogs about the IVF journey. There will be a lot of shots, bruises, pain, hope, ultrasounds, emotions, doctor visits, doubt. I am scared. I am excited. I am ready. I know there will be days where I forget why we are doing this. In the end, though, I am fighting yet another battle to keep building our family.

While adoption was not as physically draining as IVF will be, it took so much patience and emotions and is a lifelong experience with ups and downs.

Nothing about creating our family has been easy, and I cannot wait to tell each and every one of our children someday about how hard we worked to get to them.

Why am I telling you about this? I loved sharing our journey through adoption to bringing home Daxon and all the support we received, and I want to share this journey as well.

I am ready to fight another battle as the reward is so very worth it.

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All my love,

Betsy

The Best Days

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Dear No One,

It has been a long time since I posted anything because we have been incredibly busy this summer moving and getting settled in our new house. I felt the urge to write, though, because it has been just over a year since we went active as a “waiting family” with our adoption agency. Now we have a 9 month old. Holy cow.

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A 9 month old that plays hide and seek. A 9 month old that loves to repeat sounds you make (we’re still working on mama and dada). A 9 month old that only wants to eat whatever Mommy or Daddy is eating. A 9 month old that cries when Mommy or Daddy walks out of the room. A 9 month old who knows that we are his family.

These are THE best days of my life. I love nothing more than spending every day with Dax. He is everything to me.

So these are the best days of my life, but I still experience emotional and physical pain from infertility? Whhaaattt?!?

Yes. It might sound like I’m contradicting myself, but let me explain a little. The most frustrating thing I experienced after adopting Daxon was that I had people that expected me to feel perfectly healed. I had my baby. What more could I want? Stop complaining lady!

First, Daxon was not and is not a bandaid for our infertility pain. He was not “another option.” We have talked about adopting since we were dating. After dealing with some of our infertility issues, we decided to rethink our plan for children. But Daxon did not come into our lives to cover up our pain of infertility. I think that takes away from the relationship between our son and us. He was wanted. He was desired. He was planned for just like a biological child would have been to us. He is so very, very loved (if you can’t tell by the thousands of pictures I’m constantly posting).

Second, infertility changes you forever. From the second it becomes a part of your story, you will never be the same. In ways I am much stronger, but I also still feel weak, depressed, and heartbroken from time to time. Therefore, I cannot go back and be completely happy and healed by adopting a child. That wasn’t the point of adopting, and that’s not how it works.

Third, you know what most women want more than a child? Two children. Three. Four. However many they want. Marcus and I were still “trying” the entire time we were going through the adoption process. We are dying for a big family. Well, we’ve been trying for that big family for 3 years now. 3 years. With no success in getting pregnant. And yet I still feel that little spark of hope every month, and I still feel the pain that follows. Every. time.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a sad, pathetic pile. Like I said before, these are the best days of my life. I love my life more than ever. But does having one child mean I’m not allowed to feel the pain of infertility anymore? Nope.

I’m a BIG believer in letting yourself feel whatever you are feeling. Whether you are dealing with infertility or something else entirely, don’t let anyone else tell you how you should feel. Keep fighting, but let yourself feel every emotion. That is one thing that you have control of in this crazy world.

All my love,

Betsy

Why “Dear No One”

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Dear No One,

It has been a year since I started my blog, and I never really explained why I named it “Dear No One.” I am sure you are all DYING to know, so here it is.

When I was going through our deepest, darkest times of infertility, I felt so alone. There were so many people out there that would have listened and could have helped. BUT I had in my mind that no one tells people they are pregnant until they are at least 8 weeks “in case something happens.” Therefore, I felt like infertility was something that was supposed to be kept secret. We didn’t even tell our families until we had some answers from the doctors and knew there was definitely a problem.

The best thing that ever happened for me was when I called someone to get advice on adoption, and we ended up talking for three hours about infertility instead. Having someone else that validated all of my feelings felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I wish I had reached out to someone who had gone through the same thing so much earlier.

Oh yeah. Why “Dear No One?” Am I saying that anyone reading this is a no one? Of course not! When I started this blog, it was more of an outlet for me. I honestly did not care if one person read it. I just felt a desire to write. Therefore, I was okay if I was writing to “No One.” I am simply writing from my heart.

Now that I do have a few people that read this, my one goal is to never let another woman go through infertility alone. So for the woman out there who thinks you are alone and no one will understand, I am here. I understand. I promise you that reaching out to me or anyone else who has gone through infertility will be the best thing you could do for yourself.

Will I rename it someday? Yes! I am positive that someday I will rename it to be more fitting for our family. But for now, I am using this writing as therapy for myself and if no one reads this, that’s okay with me. Although, I know at least my mom is reading this. 😉

I would love any and all suggestions from your creative minds for my next blog name!

All my love,

Betsy

NIAW: My Year After Starting A Blog

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Dear No One,

It’s National Infertility Awareness Week, and this time last year was the first time I opened up about our infertility issues. My husband and I kept it to ourselves for over a year, and it wasn’t until we announced that we were in the process of adopting that we decided to share. A LOT has happened since I started this blog, and while I never considered myself a writer (and still don’t), I am so glad I decided to share our story. In the last year, I have learned so much and made and deepened relationships with so many amazing women going through some form of infertility.

What have I learned? There are so many forms of infertility. Women who have chronic illnesses. Miscarriages. IVF. Low or no sperm count. Even some couples whose doctors couldn’t find any medical reason for why they can’t get pregnant. Some women have never even gotten to experience the joy that comes from a positive pregnancy test. Others experience that joy and have it instantly ripped away from them when their biggest dream ends in a miscarriage. Other women struggled with infertility years ago, and it still haunts them.

The most important thing I learned from talking to so many different women about their experiences? Every one of us felt and still feel the EXACT same emotions. No matter how infertility touched our lives, I instantly felt a connection with each and every woman.

What are some of the emotions we feel? Sadness, despair, depression. Having a child is something most women dream about for most of their lives. Not having a child, is often our worst nightmare. Anger. “Why me?” often hits as you watch every. single. person you know announce their pregnancy on Facebook (or so it seems). Jealousy comes right along with that anger and instantly a wave of guilt for feeling angry and jealous of your friends’ happiness. Alone. Even though 1 in 8 couples experience infertility, you still feel alone. You don’t want to bring everyone down by constantly talking about it, but it is almost all you can think about. Also, just like most things in life, no one really understands what you are going through unless they’ve experienced it themselves. I had a friend that supported me through our worst times of infertility, but it wasn’t until she experienced it herself that she truly understood the depths of what I was going through.

Does it go away? Nope. Infertility becomes a part of you. It changes you. Your life will NEVER be the same. And that is okay.

Why? Because now as I hold my sleeping baby that we adopted 5 months ago and type this, I truly believe there is no other baby that is meant to be in my life right now. I am stronger than I have ever been. I am positive that I am a better mom because of the struggle. I have made countless friendships. I have cried with women. Often times, I am one of the first people these women tell when they find out they are pregnant. I am helping women through the biggest ups and downs of their lives. Crying with them through the worst. Celebrating at their highest moments.

Speaking out about our infertility and starting this blog has been life-changing for me. My hope is that any woman that reads this and is experiencing any type of infertility will reach out to me. Why? You don’t have to go through this alone and you shouldn’t go through this alone.  The worst thing I did in the beginning was try to deal with it by myself. Infertility is a sisterhood. A sisterhood you would never choose, but it is one that will welcome you with open arms and never let you go. Infertility may never go away but either will the bond that you instantly form within the sisterhood.

I never want another woman to go through infertility alone, so to all my sisters, I am ALWAYS here to talk. You are not alone. Most of all, keep fighting. I promise that when you FINALLY meet your babe, it will be

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All my love,

Betsy

A Mother’s Bond

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Dear No One,

I have never experienced anything quite like the bond I have with Daxon. I have a lot of kids that I am close to (nephews, nieces, students, etc.), but I never knew I could feel even more love for my child.

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I have spent hours studying him. Learning every birthmark. The color of his eyes. His (ADORABLE!) dimple. His fingernails. His belly button. Every roll. To me, he is perfect.

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With the adoption, I was worried about bonding with the baby. I have a degree in child development, and I did a lot of extra studying on bonding and adoption. I decided that it was best for only Marcus and me to take care of his primary care needs. For the last 9 weeks, we are the only ones who fed, clothed, and bathed him. We did all of his diaper changes, etc. Also, I never experienced pregnancy, so I wanted to wear him. This is the closest to feeling pregnant that I will get with him, and I love feeling him snuggled up against me.

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Honestly, though, bonding has been incredibly easy for me. I feel a love for him that I have never felt before. Anyone who has seen Dax around me always says, “He knows who his mommy is.” There is no better feeling. That his face lights up when he sees me. That I can make him smile more than anyone else. That he calms down as soon as I hold him. Nothing. Better.

 

Now for those of you who can’t handle a woman breastfeeding in public, you should stop reading. For the rest of you, I also bonded with him by using skin to skin contact and breastfeeding. No, I don’t produce milk. Producing milk when you haven’t been through a pregnancy is extremely hard. There are ways to do it by changing your hormones, but it often doesn’t produce much and takes a lot of time and effort. With all that adoption entails, I decided not to induce lactation. Instead I found two other ways to “breastfeed” to help make a secure attachment with him. First, I use my breasts to simply pacify him. It is no different than a pacifier. When he was falling asleep at night, I would offer it to him. The first time he ever latched on, I cried. I never thought I’d get to experience breastfeeding with him but nothing has ever felt so natural.

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Second, I wanted to find a way to actually experience feeding him. Through my research I found the Medela SNS (supplemental nursing system), and I have been able to actually feed him. I wear the milk in a bottle around my neck and tape a small tube onto my breast. When he latches on, the tube goes into the corner of his mouth and releases the food while he sucks. It sounds easy. It is not easy at first. It takes time to set up (which isn’t always possible with a screaming, hungry baby). The baby has to latch, and you have to make sure the tube is far enough in (but not too far in to gag him!). You have to let some milk out to get him interested in latching, but the longer it takes for him to get a good latch, the more milk that ends up all over him and you. Over time, though, I got better at positioning and getting him to latch correctly. Not much in adoption is easy, but it is all so worth it, including breastfeeding. These moments have been so precious to me. So precious that I recently asked our photographer to take photos of it. I initially asked her to photoshop the tape out, and I wore a scarf to cover the bottle around my neck. Once I saw the photos with the tape, though, I knew I had to share them.

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Raw. Beautiful. Real. Strong.

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This is adoption. This is bonding. This is motherhood.

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It is not easy. It is not for the faint-hearted. It takes work. It takes passion. It takes tears. It takes heartache. It takes love.

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Not just adoption. Motherhood. If you are a mother, you know that you would do anything for your children. It’s not always easy. It’s not always pretty, but it is so worth it.

To the mom trying to conceive (yes I believe you are already a mom), I hear you. I see your tears that you cry alone at night. You are not alone. You should be proud of the sacrifices you’ve already made for your child. When that child does come, no matter how they come to you, you will look back and think, “It was all worth it.”

To the moms who are exhausted and never get a break, I see you. You are doing an amazing job. Don’t listen to any other mother or person trying to tell you how to parent unless they are simply building you up and praising you for all the hard work you do. Every day. Every night.

To the moms whose children have left home, I see you. You still don’t sleep soundly, and you anxiously wait to hear from your children every day. The children you raised to be hardworking, independent adults. Yet they will always be your baby.

I’m only weeks into this motherhood gig, but I know I’d do anything for my son. This is a bond that can never be broken. A mother’s bond with her child. Raw. Beautiful. Real. Strong.

All my love,

Betsy

10 Things You Need to Know About Infertility

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10 Things You Need to Know About Infertility

1. People wonder why no one talks about it. From my experience when I did talk about it to my close friends and family, they were supportive, but no one really understood. While I love everyone that was there for me, they never said what I needed to hear. Eventually, I just stopped talking about it and kept it to myself. No one wants to bring people down every time they talk, but it is all you can think about. It is just easier to push it down and not talk about it all.

2. Every pregnancy announcement, birth announcement, pregnancy progress pictures, etc. hurts. When you are going through infertility, it seems like EVERYONE is having babies.

3. We are happy for people that don’t struggle with infertility. It may make me sad every time I see a pregnancy announcement, but I am also so happy for that person. I don’t wish infertility on anyone, and I’m REALLY excited for anyone who has struggled and is able to eventually get pregnant. It just might take me a minute to process my own loss because every pregnancy is a reminder that I carry grief instead of a baby.

4. STOP saying, “You just need to relax” or “as soon as you stop trying, it will happen.” That’s most likely not true. Infertility is almost always a medical condition and has nothing to do with stress. Sometimes there is nothing couples can do to conceive naturally. And for others, there is nothing they can do to have biological children. Please, please stop telling us to relax. Also, for those who decide to adopt, do not say, “I bet as soon as you adopt, you will get pregnant.” Again, it is not that easy.

5. It is not always the woman. I know a lot of couples where it is the man who has the issue. Please be sensitive to the men as well. All they want is to give their wife a child. When they can’t do that, it devastates them.

6. The best thing you can do is listen and validate someone’s feelings. I started telling myself I shouldn’t feel this way. I felt selfish for being sad about other people’s pregnancies. I made myself believe that it was not that big of a deal, and I needed to just get over it. The best thing that ever happened was the first time I talked to someone who had been through the same thing. She validated everything I was feeling. I started owning up to my feelings, and it was the healthiest way for me to deal with it.

7. Infertility is isolating. Finding people who understand your loss is difficult and trying to process this alone is hard to do. I spent a year and a half trying to deal with it by myself. This was a mistake. When a couple is in the middle of it, they are trying to be happy in a world that moves on in spite of their loss. Infertility follows a natural grieving process as any other grief, but it may not have closure. They may question every decision they make and may live the rest of their days wondering “if” it will ever happen.

8. You cannot “fix” our hurt. Feelings must be felt and experienced, not fixed. Be there. Let us share our feelings. Be a shoulder. Check in and say you’re thinking of us. But trying to fix us does not work, it hurts, and it makes us question our own feelings. We can’t just “get over it,” or “have more faith,” or “just adopt.” Infertility is complicated and each couple faces very different decisions to make throughout the process. We need your love, not your input.

9. Everyone’s situation is different. If you know one couple who has dealt with infertility, you know one story of infertility. It is different for everyone. Take time to listen to someone’s story and their feelings. Do not tell them to do whatever your friend did. It is most likely not the same. Respect that everyone’s story is different, and everyone deals with infertility differently.

10. Last, it is a loss. While I never had the thing that I lost, it is a loss. Loss of your dreams. Loss of hope. Loss of yourself. Loss of faith. You can lose a lot in the process. Most women dream of having children, what their family will look like, names for their kids, etc. When that dream doesn’t happen, it is a loss. Everyone expects to lose people close to them throughout their lives. Whether you lose them from growing apart or death, people lose relationships. No one ever expects to lose a person they never met. No one is prepared to deal with that loss. It is brutal.