May 2025 Blog: Mother’s Day and the Quiet Grief of Infertility

Mother’s Day.

For some, it’s a day of breakfast in bed, hand-drawn cards, and warm embraces. For others, it’s a sharp reminder of what's missing—a dream deferred, a hope still unanswered, a heart quietly breaking.

If you’re navigating infertility, Mother’s Day can feel like walking through a garden full of flowers while carrying a storm inside your chest. The world celebrates, and you may smile on the outside. But inside? It can hurt.

You're Not Alone

First, if this day feels heavy, know this: You’re not alone.

So many people experience a complicated mix of emotions on Mother’s Day. Sadness. Anger. Grief. Guilt for feeling all of the above. Whether you’re in the thick of treatments, waiting on adoption, grieving a loss, or quietly hoping month after month—your feelings are valid. You don't need to justify your sadness just because the calendar tells you it’s time to celebrate.

Giving Yourself Permission

Here’s the truth: You don’t have to “be okay” with Mother’s Day.

You don’t have to go to brunch.
You don’t have to walk down the greeting card aisle.
You don’t have to pretend.

You have permission to take care of your heart. That might mean saying no to plans, logging off social media, planning a day away from it all, or even making your own tradition to reclaim the day in a way that feels healing.

Self-care isn’t selfish. On days like this, it’s survival.

A Day to Honor Your Strength

Even if the world doesn’t see it, there is a powerful kind of motherhood in what you’re already doing. The hope. The perseverance. The love you carry. The plans you've dreamed of. That strength is real—and it matters. This Mother’s Day, maybe you light a candle. Write a letter to the child you're still hoping for. Take a deep breath and honor everything your body, heart, and mind have carried. That can be enough.

You are enough.

For Loved Ones Reading This

If someone you love is struggling with infertility this Mother’s Day, please tread gently. Send a quiet message. Let them know they’re seen. Avoid phrases like “you’ll be a mom someday” or “just relax.” Instead, try:
“I know this day might be hard. I’m thinking of you and sending love.”

Sometimes, that’s all someone needs—to be reminded they’re not invisible.

Gentle Reminder:

It’s okay to feel joy and sadness at the same time. To love your mom and still ache for what you’re missing. To be grateful for what you have and still long for more. The heart is big enough to hold it all. Be kind to yourself this Mother’s Day. However you spend it, I hope you find space to breathe, to feel, to heal.

You are not forgotten. You are deeply loved. And you are not alone.

Lindsey Goldstein