‘Please Bear With Us’
Aimee, a dear friend who lives in Pittsburgh, is in her late 20s and has been married for four years. She explains it like this: “Primary infertility is sometimes persistent and perpetual. There may not be a biological child in our future. Stress alone is not a cause of infertility. ‘Just relaxing’ won’t cure endometriosis, fibroids, azoospermia or varicoceles. Infertility is a disease.” 

She also said this: “When we first receive a diagnosis, sometimes we just need time to come to terms with it. Depending on our own mental health, it could mean we really struggle to see your pregnancy announcements, or attend baby showers, or even attend family gatherings.”

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In other words — “Please be patient with us and understand that, most of the time, this is not because of anything you have done. We still want to be invited to the baby showers, we still want to hear about your pregnancies (tactfully!), and we still want to be invited to family gatherings. It might take a year or two for us to be at a point where we don’t feel cheated by God, fate or nature and can realize the fruitfulness in our marriage (despite being childless). Please bear with us.”

The Feeling of Loss
Another close friend, Emily, who is in her 40s and whose pain is still fresh enough that she asked me to use a pseudonym, said: “Although we may already have one or two (or more) children, it’s very difficult when you don’t have the family you always thought you would. It is a definite feeling of loss. For years I felt there was someone missing … that extra Christmas stocking or Easter basket. I felt a constant emptiness and it wasn’t just on holidays but every single day.

“It’s also tough in the Catholic world,” she added, “when you feel you are being judged by not having a larger family. It was probably in my head most of the time, but I heard others make judgments about families of one or two kids being selfish. I would sit in Mass sometimes and want to wear a big ‘I’ on my shirt (for infertile) or come right out and say, ‘This isn’t my choice! I’m trying!'”

The Best Things to Do
I also asked both my friends, who know I love them and support them but sometimes fail miserably, what should I say?

Said Emily: “I’m not really sure, but it’s always nice to have a friend just listen and not try to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. (‘Have you tried this? Have you tried that?’) It’s also nice to know that friends are praying for you.”

Aimee put it this way: “Something I know I needed to hear when I was so deeply ‘in it’ was, ‘I love you, I’m praying for you. I’m here for you.’ And mean it! Just knowing someone was thinking of me and praying for me did so much to open doors to friendship when I was ready.”

She added: “Eventually, when your friends suffering from infertility can cope with the diagnosis, they may be looking for a family with children to help them ‘upon re-entry’. My godson, who is now just five months old, has helped me learn to love again and has helped heal my heart in a very real way. It took time, but I’m grateful that his mama was patient with me and encouraged me to love him with my maternal heart.”

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Close

Just as it stings when someone asks me, a mother of three sons, the very common but mildly insulting, “So, are you going to try again for a girl?” — as if my boys were failed attempts at conceiving a girl — these well-meaning but often thoughtless remarks can, and do, wound our friends.

From now on I’m going to take the advice of both my friends: Listen, pray, and never tire of telling my friends I love them and support them.

Jewels Green is a mother, writer, public speaker and advocate for the right to life from conception to natural death. She lives in a suburb of Philadelphia and is featured in a new book, We Choose Life: Authentic Stories, Movements of Hope.