Infertility: A Grief That Lives in Silence

“Just relax.”
“If it’s meant to be, it will happen.”
“You’re healthy; I’m sure you’ll get pregnant.”

These are some of the most common—yet least helpful—things that couples facing infertility challenges are told. And let’s be honest, these comments are most often directed at birthing people.

As a licensed therapist in Wheaton, IL, I’ve worked with many clients navigating infertility and pregnancy loss. I’ve also been there myself.

My Personal Fertility Journey

My husband and I started trying for our second child shortly after having our first. I always imagined my children close in age. But the universe had different plans.

(Hindsight being 20/20, I realize now that becoming pregnant again so soon would have been incredibly difficult. I spent the better part of my son's first year struggling with postpartum anxiety and PTSD—but that’s a story for another blog.)

When we hit the one-year mark without conceiving—a milestone that officially defines infertility—I started asking questions. Why wasn’t it working? We’d conceived before. Was our son a miracle? Was something wrong with me?

Tests—bloodwork, urine, semen—all came back normal. So why wasn’t this working?

I underwent a hysterosalpingogram (HSG), a procedure involving contrast dye to check for abnormalities in the uterus and fallopian tubes. I was warned about the pain, but no one prepared me for the emotional toll of hearing that everything looked normal. Again, I was left wondering: What’s wrong with me?

I was warned about the pain, but no one prepared me for the emotional toll of hearing that everything looked normal. Again, I was left wondering: What’s wrong with me?
 

The Emotional Toll of Infertility

Without a clear cause, my OB prescribed Clomid, an oral fertility medication. I got lucky—we conceived after just one cycle.

Then we lost the baby while on a family vacation.

Not everyone is that unlucky.

Several months later, after taking time to heal emotionally, we tried Clomid again. This time, we conceived our daughter. Not everyone is that lucky either.

Every infertility journey is different—mine, yours, your loved ones’. Each one is deeply personal and worthy of compassionate support.

Infertility as a Unique Form of Grief

In my practice here in Wheaton, IL, I work with many individuals facing fertility challenges, pregnancy loss, or postpartum trauma. There is one heartbreaking thread that ties them all together:

This grief often lives in silence.

Roughly 1 in 8 couples in the U.S. experience infertility.

That means millions of people silently carry the weight of a grief we rarely acknowledge:

  • The grief of "how things were supposed to go"

  • The grief of imagined futures

  • The grief of repeated loss, whether physical or emotional

Infertility often isolates people. I remember how I pulled away, especially when I faced well-meaning but painful questions like:
“So when are you giving your son a sibling?”

When fertility treatments are involved, the emotional stakes rise even higher. There is hope—but also fear. There is effort—but also exhaustion. And when treatments don’t work, couples are left with more questions, more heartbreak, and less hope.

How to Support Someone Facing Fertility Grief

If someone you love is experiencing infertility or pregnancy loss, here are a few ways to offer support:

  • Show compassion. A simple “I’m so sorry” or “How are you holding up?” can mean everything.

  • Offer help on their terms. Ask how they need support—and then show up exactly as they ask.

  • Be willing to talk. You don’t have to have the right words. Just be present and willing to listen.

  • Respect triggers. Baby showers, pregnancy announcements, even a trip to the children’s section at Target can be overwhelming.

  • Avoid questions like “When are you having kids?” If you must ask, try: “Would you like to have children someday?”

You Are Not Alone

If you’re going through infertility, miscarriage, or pregnancy loss, you are not alone. These experiences are more common than we talk about—and more devastating than many realize.

As a licensed counselor, I specialize in working with individuals and couples navigating this unique kind of grief. Whether you're just beginning your journey or recovering from loss, you deserve support that’s compassionate, nonjudgmental, and informed.

If you're ready to talk, I’m here to listen.
Contact me today to schedule a session or learn more about infertility counseling in Wheaton, IL.



Resources for Further Support

If you're looking to read more about this topic, I highly recommend: I’m Sorry for My Loss by Rebecca Little and Colleen Long — a heartfelt, healing read that reminds us we are not alone.

Amanda Cimaglia, LPC


Yours in support,
Amanda, LPC PMH-C