There is a kind of shame that sits quietly in the heart. It doesn’t announce itself loudly, like anger or frustration. Instead, it lingers in the background, whispering things that are hard to say out loud:

Why can’t I get pregnant?
Why is my body failing me?
Why can she have a baby so easily, and I can’t?
Maybe I’m not meant to be a mother.

If you’ve struggled with fertility, you know this shame well.

It’s there when you see another pregnancy announcement on social media and your stomach knots with jealousy and grief. It’s there when you sit in waiting rooms, surrounded by baby bumps and ultrasound pictures, wondering if this will ever happen for you. It’s there when well-meaning people say, “Just relax and it’ll happen,” as if it’s somehow your fault.

And the worst part? Shame isolates us.

It tells us we’re alone. That we’re broken. That no one else feels this way.

But I want you to hear this: You are not broken. You are not alone. And you don’t have to carry this shame forever.

The Many Faces of Fertility Shame

Shame over fertility struggles comes in many forms, and no matter how it appears, it cuts deep.

• Shame about our bodies. “Maybe I’m too fat, too thin, too stressed, too something.” We turn against ourselves, convinced that our body is betraying us.
• Shame about our relationships. “My partner deserves someone who can give them a family.” We fear that infertility will push our loved ones away.
• Shame about money. “We’re spending so much on treatments. What if it’s all for nothing?” The cost of fertility treatments can be overwhelming, and when they don’t work, we wonder if we’ve wasted our resources.
• Shame about needing help. “Other women get pregnant so easily. Why do I have to work this hard?” We feel like we’re failing at something that should be natural.
  

And because shame is so painful, we do what humans do best—we try to protect ourselves from it.

How We Protect Ourselves From Shame

Shame makes us feel disconnected and rejected. And because that pain is unbearable, we build walls.

We tell ourselves:

• “I never really wanted kids anyway.” (So it won’t hurt so much if I can’t have them.)
• “I just need to stop trying, and it’ll happen.” (So I don’t have to face another month of disappointment.)
• “I don’t want to talk about it.” (Because talking about it makes it real.)

We pull away from our partners, feeling like we’re letting them down. We withdraw from friends who are pregnant or have children, feeling like we no longer belong in their world. And, sometimes, in the cruelest twist of all, we even harden ourselves against the baby we so desperately want—because hoping, wanting, and not knowing if it will happen is just too much to bear.

But here’s the thing: these walls don’t actually protect us.

They keep us from feeling the full force of rejection, yes—but they also keep us from feeling connection. And without connection, life begins to feel hollow.

The only way out of shame is through vulnerability.

Vulnerability: The Only Way Back to Ourselves

Brené Brown writes that vulnerability is not weakness—it’s courage. And when you’re struggling with fertility, nothing feels more vulnerable than allowing yourself to hope.

Hope feels dangerous. Hope means risking disappointment. Hope means acknowledging that this is something you deeply want—and what if it doesn’t happen?

But here’s what I need you to know: Shame isolates. Vulnerability connects.

Being vulnerable won’t necessarily solve your fertility struggles, but it will make life worth living again. It will allow you to:

• Be honest with your partner instead of pushing them away.
• Show up in your friendships without feeling like you have to pretend.
• Seek support instead of struggling alone.
• Find joy again—not just in a future baby, but in the life you’re living right now.

Because your life doesn’t begin when you get pregnant. Your life is happening now. And you deserve to feel connected to it.

Letting Go of Shame, One Step at a Time

I know letting go of shame isn’t as easy as flipping a switch. But I want to invite you to try something:

• Speak your shame out loud. To a partner, a trusted friend, a therapist, or even just in a journal. Shame can’t survive being spoken—it thrives in secrecy.
• Allow yourself to hope. Not because you have a guarantee, but because you deserve to believe in good things.
• Give yourself permission to grieve. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Grief is love with nowhere to go. Let it move through you.
• Find a community. Whether it’s an online group, a therapist, or a trusted friend, you are not meant to carry this alone.

You don’t have to wait for a positive pregnancy test to feel whole.

You are already worthy. You are already enough. And you are not alone.

If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear from you. You don’t have to share your whole story—just a simple “I feel this” is enough to remind you (and others) that you’re not alone.

And if you’re looking for a space where you can be vulnerable, be seen, and find support on your fertility journey, I’m here. Let’s talk.

Because your story isn’t over. And you don’t have to walk this path alone. ❤️