Hellobee

When we were first diagnosed with infertility my world crumbled. I know that sounds dramatic, but from the time I was a little girl the majority of my hopes and dreams revolved around motherhood. I remember in 4th grade when our teacher asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up, and I answered that I wanted to be a stay ­at ­home mom. So, when I got the call that said “little to no chance of natural conception” I was devastated. We weren’t in the place financially to pursue expensive fertility treatment, and I feared I would be the woman that would take years to get pregnant while all my other friends had multiple children and talked “shop talk” about pregnancy, breastfeeding, diaper changes and all kinds of mom topics.

Now that almost 5 years have passed, we have two beautiful children, but I have yet to get pregnant. We have brought home both of our kids through the gift of domestic infant adoption and I have been a part of all kinds of mom duties, just not pregnancy, giving birth, or breastfeeding.

Even though I am grateful to have two healthy kids, infertility is still a tender spot for me. On my most recent trip to the gynecologist office I cried a few tears as I saw so many pregnant women walk up to the receptionist counter and talk so nonchalantly about their growing bellies and babies. I am fascinated by the idea of giving birth and although I love a good birth story, I still feel a sharp pain in my chest whenever I hear one, as it’s a story I always thought I would have and do not. And when I snuggle my kids close at night I often think of their birthmothers and how grateful I am for them, but also how much I grieve that I didn’t get to experience those first 9 months with my kids growing inside of me. I’m thankful that infertility is now more of a dull ache than a sharp pain, a lot of it due to the support system I have had along the way.

If you love someone going through infertility, you probably feel kind of awkward about it. You want to be there and support your friend as they struggle to build their family, but it’s not an easy topic to bring up and talk about it. If you were to ask me who my closest friends were through the journey I could name you less than a handful of people. Because walking with someone through infertility, or any kind of loss, is hard. But, if you are up for the challenge I can tell you they will appreciate it more than they will ever be able to express to you in words.

Here are a few things that friends and family did that were so supportive of us through the journey.

1. Tell them, simply, you’re sorry they’re going through this.

If there is just one thing you do, make this it. I know it’s hard to watch people struggle since we always want to fix their pain. It’s tempting to offer suggestions that have worked for others, or send them information on specialists that helped someone you know get pregnant. But chances are your friend already knows everything you have to recommend. Unless you walked through infertility yourself, chances are that tips and recommendations won’t be of much help to them as they’ve likely done a whole lot of research themselves.

It was also hard for me to hear when people told me that God had a plan. Faith can be, without a doubt, a source of comfort and hope; however it is all too easy for would ­be empathizers to throw verses at you about God’s plan and perfect will, and it just ends up sounding trite. Of course I knew that God had “a plan;” but what if God’s plan didn’t involve children? Absolutely none of us knows what the future holds and even though most infertile couples do eventually achieve pregnancy, it may not be in the future for your friend. What I DID need to hear was that my pain was validated and that it was normal for me to feel sad, left out, and discouraged.

2. Offer both support and space.

I wish more people knew what a grieving process infertility is. Especially after going through expensive and/or invasive procedures that don’t result in pregnancy, many couples feel absolutely sick and heartbroken. If your friend has opened up enough to you to let you know when this happens, offer to bring them a meal, a bottle of wine, or some chocolate. But, if they don’t respond, that’s ok. They may just need some space. Give them that space for a little bit, then reach out in a simple way just to let them know you love them are thinking of them.

We know when people lose a family member or friend that they have days when they need to talk to someone and days they need to be alone, and it’s the same with a loss of a pregnancy, or loss of the chance of a pregnancy. I had a couple of people in my life who were so great at this. They would check in with me, but knew that if I didn’t call back it was because I needed space. Try not to take silence personally and know that when you reach out and they are ready to share, they will! Continue to offer them a safe place to share without the pressure of always keeping you in the loop.

3. Don’t ask for too personal details ­ unless you are 100% sure it’s ok.

There were just a handful of people that I shared details with along our journey. Once they were in that very inner circle, I answered just about any question they had because I knew their questions meant that they cared. However, if people outside that circle asked me invasive questions, I felt awkward at best and violated at worst. If your friend volunteers information to you and wants to talk, they definitely trust you and want to have you as a confidant. But if they aren’t offering any information, they probably want to keep the more intimate parts of their journey private. Just continue to be there for them and I can assure you, if and when they do get pregnant, you will be sure to know!

4. Keep inviting them to events, even if they often aren’t up to attend.

In the darkest part of our infertility journey I wasn’t extremely social and turned down my fair share of social invites. Unfortunately this meant that some friends stopped inviting us to get-­togethers. This was one of the hardest parts of infertility­ — the increasing isolation we felt.

Even though I may not have felt up to attending a lot of baby showers, it meant so much to be invited and I was glad to go when I was having a better day. If at all possible continue to invite your friends to both child­-free and child­-friendly events and allow them to be the ones to accept or decline the invitation. It will mean so much for them to be included!

5. Don’t be afraid of your friend’s big emotions.

I imagine it can be awkward to be a close friend of someone walking the infertility path. They may seem like “their old self” one minute and then burst into tears the next. This is normal, especially if they are taking fertility drugs! And knowing that I can express both spectrums with someone close was invaluable. Being able to call someone crying and be laughing at the end of the conversation was such a healing experience for me. If you can be that listening ear for a friend you will be invaluable!

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Being a friend to someone going through infertility is not easy, but it will mean so much to the that you are trying! The friends who walked with me through infertility are still my closest friends today. They’ve all been pregnant at least once throughout our journey, but that didn’t hinder our long term closeness. Because of their sensitivity and kindness as we walked through life together we are closer now than we were then! I’m so grateful for those who reached out to us during our hardest days, and your friend will too.

If you have been through infertility, what were things that helped you feel supported and loved through the difficulties?