The Emotional Side of Infertility: What No One Talks About
On my wall hang several orchids. To most people they're just flowers. To me they represent something I don't often speak about publicly — the babies I lost before my daughter arrived.
I planted them in their honor.
I'm sharing this today because Mother's Day is complicated for a lot of people. And if you're in the middle of a fertility journey — or grieving a loss that most people around you never even knew about — I want you to know that this post was written with you in mind.
What No One Tells You About Fertility Loss
Miscarriage and fertility struggles are among the most common and least spoken about experiences in reproductive medicine. Statistically, roughly one in four pregnancies ends in loss — and yet the grief that follows is often carried quietly, privately, and without the same acknowledgment we extend to other kinds of loss.
I know this firsthand. I heard a heartbeat — that small, miraculous sound — and felt the rush of relief that comes with it. And then weeks later I learned that the baby was no longer there — a missed miscarriage that the world outside had no idea I was carrying. I experienced a chemical pregnancy as well — a loss that happens so early it can feel invisible, and yet is no less real. I went through four IUI cycles before the last one finally worked. And when I became pregnant with my daughter — my rainbow baby — I felt joy. Real, genuine joy. But alongside it came anxiety I hadn't anticipated. Each follow-up appointment brought a mix of hope and dread — holding my breath in the waiting room, bracing myself for news I prayed wouldn't come. The relief of hearing a heartbeat was always followed by the quiet fear of what the next appointment might bring. I was guarded in a way I couldn't fully explain to people who hadn't been through loss.
No one told me that was normal. But it is.
The Psychological Weight of Infertility
What often goes unacknowledged in conversations about infertility is the profound psychological toll it takes. Research consistently shows that women navigating infertility experience levels of anxiety and depression comparable to those diagnosed with serious medical conditions — and yet the emotional dimension of this experience is frequently undertreated or overlooked entirely.
Fertility treatment is physically demanding. But it is also emotionally relentless. There is the grief of each failed cycle. The complicated feelings toward pregnant friends or family members — love mixed with pain that can feel shameful to admit. The way certain days — Mother's Day, baby showers, pregnancy announcements — can feel like navigating a minefield. The loneliness of carrying something so heavy while the world around you moves on as normal.
And then there is the grief of pregnancy loss itself — which exists in a strange space where it is both medically recognized and socially minimized. "At least it was early." "At least you know you can get pregnant." "At least you have other children." These words, however well-meaning, often leave the person grieving feeling more alone than before.
Your Grief Is Real. Full Stop.
There is no gestational age at which a loss becomes significant. There is no number of losses required before your pain is valid. Whether you lost a pregnancy at five weeks or twenty, whether you've been trying for six months or six years, whether your path has included IUI, IVF, or simply the quiet ache of hoping every month — your experience matters and your grief deserves space.
Allowing yourself to fully grieve — rather than rushing toward the next cycle or the next plan — is not weakness. It is necessary. And it is one of the most important things I help clients work through in therapy.
For Those Who Don't Know How to Help
If someone you love is navigating infertility or pregnancy loss, you may feel uncertain about what to say or do. Here are a few things that genuinely help:
Acknowledge the loss directly. Don't wait for them to bring it up. A simple "I've been thinking about you and I'm so sorry" goes further than you might imagine.
Don't offer silver linings. Resist the urge to reframe or reassure. What they need most is to feel that their pain is understood — not fixed.
Remember the dates. The due date of a lost pregnancy, the anniversary of a loss, Mother's Day — these are hard days. A text that simply says "I'm thinking of you today" can mean everything.
Follow their lead. Some people want to talk about it. Others need distraction. Ask what would feel most helpful rather than assuming.
Don't disappear after the initial loss. Grief doesn't resolve in a week. Check in a month later, two months later. Show up consistently.
When to Seek Support
Grief after pregnancy loss and the anxiety that can accompany fertility treatment are real clinical experiences — not simply emotions to push through. If you find that your grief is interfering with your daily functioning, your relationships, or your ability to move forward, therapy can provide a space to process what you've been through without judgment.
You don't have to be in crisis to benefit from support. Sometimes you simply need a space where someone truly understands — where you don't have to minimize what you've been through or explain why it still hurts.
If you're navigating fertility challenges or loss and would like support, I'd love to connect. I offer a free 15-minute consultation and work with women and families in English and Spanish, in person in Pinecrest and via telehealth across Florida and 40+ states through PSYPACT.
To anyone carrying this quietly today — your grief is real, your exhaustion is valid, and you don't have to carry it alone. 🤍
SOURCES:
American Psychological Association. (2019). Infertility and mental health.https://www.apa.org/topics/fertility
National Institute of Mental Health. (2023). Depression.https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/depression
March of Dimes. (2022). Miscarriage.https://www.marchofdimes.org/complications/miscarriage.aspx
DISCLAIMER:The content of this blog is intended for informational and educational purposes only. It does not constitute professional mental health advice, diagnosis, or treatment, and should not be used as a substitute for guidance from a licensed mental health professional. Reading this blog does not create a therapist-client relationship between you and Dr. Karina Luaces. If you are experiencing a mental health crisis please call or text 988 or contact your nearest emergency services.