This article includes discussion of baby loss.
When I look back at my journey through fertility treatment, I cannot understand how I did it. My husband and I went through the loss of four pregnancies in total: three before we had our first child, then one in between our first and second, as we struggled through secondary infertility.
Our journey spanned most of a decade and, while that in itself was hard enough, it was made even more difficult by the comments and actions people found the need to make to people they knew were trying to conceive. While I think they were mostly trying to be helpful, they were in fact doing the opposite, as we were trying to navigate an incredibly complex and distressing process that can consume your daily life, body and thoughts.
When we first started trying to conceive, we knew it would be challenging, but it’s hard to fully describe how difficult it is to manage the onslaught of appointments, scans, checks, tests and meds around work and life in general. It’s suffocating, and a huge commitment in itself – emotionally, professionally and financially.
Our first viable pregnancy ended in the first trimester, and when I told people, some responded with things like: “Oh, well you weren’t that far in” and “It would have been worse if you were further along”. To me, this felt like it was totally dismissing my struggle, undermining the immense effort it took to get to that point. Human compassion should be enough to tell us that we all deal with loss differently, but there is also evidence that miscarriage can have a significant mental toll on people in a variety of different ways at all stages of loss.
It didn’t stop there. I didn’t realise at the time, but throughout our journey through infertility (or subfertility, as my consultants preferred to call it) the voices and opinions of others grew louder and closer, to the point when I grew increasingly depressed and couldn’t cope with the words and behaviours of others during what were already some of the worst moments of my life.
I’d like to share some that stood out, although this list could have gone on, and on:
“You wouldn’t have even known about your miscarriage if pregnancy tests nowadays couldn’t detect so early.”
For some, getting pregnant is hard enough. To get to that point and lose a pregnancy is so indescribably devastating, and it doesn’t matter if they are six weeks or six months in, how they process the loss of a pregnancy is theirs to own – they do not need society to help them decide when it is okay to mourn a pregnancy loss. There may be differing physical effects of the loss depending on the pregnancy, but the emotional toll can also weigh very heavily, and you cannot measure or judge this, so let’s not. Instead, we need to support people.
“If you’d never had those miscarriages, you wouldn’t have the kids you have now, so all of that was meant to happen.”
Toxic positivity doesn’t help anyone and doesn’t negate the awful (and for me absolutely debilitating) pregnancy losses that people go through before or in between children they do go on to have. I love my children very much, and am grateful that we have them; that should go without saying. However, if my previous pregnancies were successful, I’d never have known about the children I do have, as I’d have had other children I’d have loved just as much. This is hard for people to understand, without them getting very defensive about what they believe to be a supportive statement, or thinking you’re a terrible person just for being honest about the fact that no woman would choose to lose any of their pregnancies because they might have ‘better’ or different ones further down the line. That can be incredibly insensitive.
Also, secondary infertility can be just as awful. Someone having a child doesn’t negate the struggle of being unable to trying to conceive further down the line. For me, personally, there were ways in which it was worse. Yes, we had a baby already. But we already knew what it was like to go through the whole process. Knowing what we had to overcome, and to go through it again to be able to complete our family, was overwhelming and honestly nausea-inducing. I think many who have lost pregnancies will confirm that a miscarriage does not feel any better just because you already have a child at home. It is still horrible.
“You need to look after yourself better.”
This is an incredibly insulting and personal thing to say to someone, and it disregards any efforts the person has already made to aid their own journey through trying to conceive. But it can also make them feel like they’re responsible for their own inability to conceive, and they do not need to feel any worse about that than they probably already do. Sentiments like this only fuel people’s self-hatred, when you have no idea what’s going on in their lives.
“Maybe your partner is the problem.”
Similarly, it is horrible to apportion blame to either person in a partnership when they are already going through so much. It doesn’t matter who is the problem; they’re figuring it out together, and they do not need your ill-thought-out advice. Even if it was a person’s partner that had a medical issue that meant conceiving was harder for them, this will not change the other person’s feelings in wanting a child with their partner, whom they love. Rather than labelling one or both people trying to conceive as ‘faulty’, try simply supporting them instead.
“Stop stressing about it so much.”
Fertility treatment or trying to conceive is a naturally stressful process, and constantly highlighting how stressed someone is doesn’t help and will not change anything. It is more stressful having people repeatedly tell you to stop being stressed during a situation that is inherently very stressful. While we know stress can be caused by fertility challenges and can reduce quality of life when trying to conceive, we don’t have good evidence that stress can cause infertility. Focusing on the potential impact of stress can misdirect blame towards the person trying to conceive.
“Maybe you should stop all this fertility stuff if it’s causing you so much stress.”
In other situations, we do not routinely tell people to stop or quit situations in life just because they’re stressful: work was stressful today – so quit; that thesis is hard work – so throw in the towel; packing for a family holiday is tricky – so don’t go. Life is full of stressful situations. Seeing someone stressed about trying to conceive is not an invitation for you to tell them they should give up.
“Your fertility doctor is rubbish; get a different one.” or “How much is IVF costing you?”
Fertility science has given many couples their dream of becoming parents. Just because a treatment isn’t working, that’s no reason to insult the very experienced doctors with years of experience in a very specialist area. More to the point, telling a couple this is only going to make them feel bad because while they may already know what the problem is, it is rarely ever the fertility consultant treating them. As for the cost of IVF, that is none of your business. IVF costs a lot – you know that already, and so do they; they don’t need you to remind them.
“My sister/friend/colleague went through the same thing, and they have a baby now!”
That might be good for your sister/friend/colleague, but everyone is different in terms of their fertility and the very individual experiences they have. You can’t compare one person’s experience to another’s, and the success stories of others don’t help people who are trying to conceive. The reality, that couple who are trying to conceive will know better than anyone, is that it just might not happen for them. It’s okay for people to know that, and accept it.
“You want children so badly? Have mine!” or “You do know kids are hard work?”
Firstly, it is never helpful to minimise people’s problems, and compare them to your own. And secondly, people won’t stop wanting children just because they’re hard work, nor are they unaware of how much hard work parenting can be. But trying to conceive is a personal decision that I made with my partner, as a couple, and we did not need anyone to judge our life choices just because it might be harder for us to achieve some goals compared to others.
“Why don’t you just adopt?”
Adoption is a very personal process, and one that a couple has to be totally ready to commit to – for themselves and for any children they may adopt. People who are trying to conceive already know this could be an option. Adoption is not a substitute for wanting your own children, and it is a long and complex process that is certainly not an easy alternative. We need to stop seeing adoption as a back-up plan, and appreciate it is a different process altogether, full of its own issues.
“Fertility drugs don’t work anyway, try homeopathy or kinesiology.” or “Touch my pregnant belly and my fertility will rub off on you.”
Fertility drugs go through rigorous testing and, from an evidence-based perspective, have showed us that they can and do result in pregnancy. Homeopathy and other alternative ‘medicines’ have not. Diluted onion water will not make me ovulate or fix my uterus. As for touching someone’s pregnant belly to boost fertility, this is weird, intrusive, and altogether too personal. Aside from being utter nonsense, it’s only likely to make a woman who’s trying to conceive feel uncomfortable and sad.
“You aren’t conceiving because you’re not religious; pray to God and he will give you a child.”
People need to remember that religion is a personal choice, and not everyone shares their specific beliefs – nor do they want to hear about them. Demonising a woman for not believing in God, and effectively blaming her for her own infertility, is cruel and wrong.
How to do better
For those of you wondering, ‘what can I say to someone who is trying to conceive?’, the key is to understand that giving our personal opinions or experiences of others does not help couples trying to conceive or undergoing fertility treatment. Many of these sentiments amount to intrusive questions about a person or couple’s medical information or their life, financial or medical decisions. If you want to support someone in your life who is trying to conceive, trust that they have all the information they need to make the best decision for them.
It is possible to support people by simply not giving unsolicited advice or minimising their struggles. You can let people know you care by asking them if they need anything, and not cutting them out of the conversation if something pregnancy related comes up. Don’t exclude or isolate them any more than they already feel they are. If someone is uncomfortable, you can usually tell if they’re struggling.
We can all help to build better, more supportive communities for anyone navigating this intense journey. We need to normalise better, less-intrusive behaviour, so people are less judgemental about decisions that are not theirs to make and ultimately do not affect them.
I can say this now; I’m privileged enough to be able to. But others may not be, not in the same way, or their journey might end unsuccessfully if they gave up just because others made them feel like they should. Our words carry weight and sometimes, when we’re vulnerable, we can be tempted to listen to voices that lead us away from what we should focus on.
