Letter to those struggling to have a child.
To you, who once imagined the path to parenthood would be straightforward and simple.
To you, who were told time and time again in your youth that the most important thing was to avoid getting pregnant, because conceiving would be the easiest thing in the world.
To you, who grew up playing with dolls, choosing baby names, and internalising from an early age what it meant to “be a mum”.
The day you were told that getting pregnant would not be as easy as expected, and that you would need to undergo medical treatments you never imagined, was a shock. The stereotypes our society has built over the years shape who we are and become deeply embedded in us. We don’t grow up thinking we might struggle to have children – we just take it for granted, thinking that, when the time comes, it will happen naturally.
For many people, the only time they talk about infertility is after they have succeeded in their challenge to have a child. For many less fortunate people, their struggles remain unshared; the endless minutes in waiting rooms, the injections, the appointments, the realisation that there is yet another blood test to do, the racing heart every time the phone rings when you are waiting for that result… the well-meaning comments (“just relax and it’ll happen!”), the comparisons to women who are already mothers, the intrusive thoughts that creep in. The stigma surrounding infertility can make you feel alone, looking around and quietly wondering “has she gone through this too?”, because it is something many go through in silence, afraid of what others might say.
But today, you don’t need to be afraid. Today is a day when we raise our voices to let you know that you are not alone; that you are far from the only one facing this. Choosing to keep going is a decision that takes immense strength and courage – and you show, every day, that you have both and more. Your (in)fertility story is unique, filled with nuances that shape it, just as they shape you. Knowing that you don’t walk this path alone can bring a kind of hope and comfort you may have not even realised you needed. You fight with love, with longing, with tenderness and deep desire – and you keep going, even when the path is winding and steep. And that, more than anything is an extraordinary act of self-love.