Before deciding to start trying to conceive, we never in a million years thought that we would have any problems.  We kept it relatively quiet and didn’t talk about it with many people, because we were looking forward to suprising people and being excited.  In those initial months I was excited for the future, which then turned into heartbreak each month as we discovered we had been unsuccessful.  I felt embarrassed, the one thing I wanted so much, I couldn’t do.  Everyone around me was getting pregnant and announcing, yet we were keeping quiet, silently going to fertility clinics, going to hospitals, going for tests, doing research, trying to be healthy, wondering what the problem was.  Time was passing by and I wasn’t getting any younger. I was getting triggered by adverts on the TV, social media, posters, other people.

I thought about it all the time.  The announcements from friends, the neighbour asking questions about "when you’re having kids,", the colleague telling me “don’t leave it too late!” the isolation because some friends stopped contacting me.

Each month brought hope, anxiety, and heartbreak, on repeat. One of the hardest parts was researching the hell out of everything and trying new things, thinking I couldn’t do this and that.  At the same time, infertility taught me the resilience and persistence I never knew I had.

I learned to advocate for myself in medical settings. It wasn’t easy, but I became better at asking the hard questions, seeking second opinions, and challenging.

If you’re reading this and walking a similar path, I want you to know this - you are not alone. It’s okay to grieve, to feel angry, and to take time for yourself. It’s okay to keep trying, and it’s okay to stop.

This journey was one of the most difficult I’ve ever faced, but it has shaped me in ways I’m still coming to understand. And while it hasn’t been easy, I know that sharing this story is a step toward breaking the silence.