Infertility is one of the loneliest roads a couple can walk—and yet it’s far more common than many realize. About 1 in 8 couples struggle with fertility challenges, and while the medical conversations around treatment options like IVF and IUI have become more normalized, the emotional toll still often lingers in the shadows.
As a therapist specializing in perinatal and reproductive mental health, I see firsthand how infertility quietly rearranges the emotional furniture of a couple’s life together. It can bring overwhelming grief, fracture a once-easy connection, and leave partners wondering if they even recognize themselves—or each other—anymore.
If you’re walking this journey, please know: you are not alone. And if you’re a clinician drawn to this work, there is profound healing that can happen when we create spaces safe enough to hold all the grief, anger, and complicated hope infertility brings.
When a couple decides to grow their family, there’s often an unspoken script: We’ll try for a few months, celebrate a positive test, and joyfully prepare for the arrival of our little one. But infertility tears that script to pieces.
Month after month, hope rises and falls. The two-week wait stretches into an emotional marathon. Friends and family announce pregnancies without even trying. Appointments, blood draws, and procedures replace date nights and weekend plans. Over time, intimacy—both physical and emotional—can start to feel like a chore rather than a gift.
Grief becomes layered. There’s the obvious grief of not conceiving. But there’s also grief for the version of life the couple once imagined, grief for the carefree ease that now feels lost, and grief for the growing distance that can wedge itself silently between two people who love each other deeply.
And often, all of this is happening invisibly. Couples battling infertility may show up at work, family gatherings, and social events appearing “fine,” while carrying crushing sorrow just beneath the surface.
Infertility isn’t just a medical diagnosis. It’s a relational and emotional crisis.
For many, shame creeps in quickly. “My body is broken.” “Maybe I waited too long.” “Maybe we’re being punished for something.” These private thoughts can spiral into self-blame and isolation.
Anxiety can become constant: charting cycles, timing intercourse, scanning bodies for symptoms, obsessing over lab results. Depression often follows close behind, especially when months turn into years.
Even partners who start the journey as a strong team may find themselves coping differently. One may dive into research and logistics while the other shuts down emotionally. One may need to talk about it endlessly; the other may prefer silence. Without support, resentment and misunderstanding can take root.
Clinicians entering this work must recognize that infertility doesn’t present in a neat diagnostic box. Clients may show up with anxiety, depression, anger, trauma symptoms, or relational distress. They may even question their entire identity and purpose.
Our role is not to offer quick fixes. It’s to bear witness to the profound losses, honor the complexity of emotions, and help clients find their footing again—whether their journey ends in parenthood or not.
For individuals and couples struggling with infertility, couples therapy with a certified perinatal therapist offers a rare place where their full experience is not minimized, rushed, or glossed over.
Here, grief isn’t something to "get over." It’s something to tend to, with gentleness and permission.
In sessions, we work to untangle the web of shame and self-blame. We validate the sadness of another negative test. We process the anger that arises when friends announce pregnancies without understanding the pain their news might cause.
We also create space for couples to reconnect—not by pretending everything is okay, but by practicing vulnerability, compassion, and honesty. Sometimes that looks like helping partners name what they need from each other when words feel impossible. Other times, it’s holding space for the fear that even love might not be enough to carry them through.
For clinicians, it’s important to remember that infertility is a form of ambiguous loss—a loss without clear resolution. Training in grief work, trauma-informed care, and relational therapy can be invaluable here. But above all, it’s our ability to sit with discomfort and uncertainty that serves clients best.
If you are living with infertility, please hear this: It’s not your fault. You are not broken. Your story—no matter where it leads—is worthy of tenderness, support, and hope.
And if you are a clinician curious about stepping into this work, know that your willingness to sit with hurting hearts without rushing to fix them is one of the greatest gifts you can offer.
Infertility changes the landscape of a couple’s life—but with support, compassion, and connection, healing and new dreams are still possible.
If you or someone you love is navigating infertility, you don’t have to carry this alone. Perinatal therapy can be a space to breathe again, grieve fully, and find your way forward.
Because infertility often brings a unique kind of isolation, finding a space where your experiences are truly understood can be a powerful part of healing.
Starting in June 2025, I’m offering a new therapy group for adults navigating infertility. This group is open to anyone seeking a safe, supportive space to connect with others who understand the emotional challenges of infertility.
In this group, you’ll have the opportunity to:
Whether you are early in your journey or have been walking this path for some time, this group can offer the connection and validation that so often feels missing.
If you or someone you know could benefit from extra support, I invite you to reach out.
If you are a clinician working with clients navigating infertility, I would love to collaborate. Feel free to contact me to discuss referrals or to learn more about how this group can complement individual therapy.
