Who would have thought I’d get personal twice in one week? Yet here I am, opening up again about something deeply personal and ongoing.
Why I’m Sharing This Now
If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you know it usually centers on lighter, creative topics—building furniture, crafting, room makeovers, paint choices, party details, and the small triumphs and lessons that come with DIY life. On the surface, life often looks bright and cheerful here. But like many people, I keep a lot private, and until recently I kept this chapter mostly to myself.
For some reason, though, I always felt I would eventually share this experience here. I hope that by doing so I can help other mothers and families who are facing the same painful and confusing season—so they won’t feel as alone. Hearing other people’s stories has been a source of comfort and encouragement for me, and I want to pay that forward.
What We’re Facing: Secondary Infertility
Right now, Coach and I are living through a difficult medical challenge known as secondary infertility. It’s frustrating and emotionally exhausting. While our life contains many blessings, and while we are deeply grateful for our daughter, Miss A, we would love to grow our family and give her a sibling. We imagine she’d love having a baby to dote on—she already talks about baby brothers and sisters with big excitement—so this season has been especially bittersweet.
Miss A has started noticing babies around her and asking more questions about sisters and brothers. Those moments make the journey feel more present and more urgent, but they also remind us that timing and biology don’t always align with our hopes. We’re not at the place we want to be yet, but we’re holding on to hope.
Why Talking About It Matters
Infertility—whether primary or secondary—carries a lot of quiet pain. It can be isolating because people often assume that once you have one child, getting pregnant again is easy. That assumption can leave families feeling misunderstood, even among friends and loved ones. Sharing our experience is my way of acknowledging that this is a real, valid struggle that affects daily life, relationships, and mental health.
I’m not sharing this to seek sympathy, but to build connection. If one person reading this recognizes the emotions I’m describing and feels less alone, then it’s worth it. If you’re in the same place, please know that your feelings are normal—confusion, grief, anger, hope, and everything in between.
Coping, Community, and Compassion
Coping with fertility challenges takes many forms. For us it has included leaning on family and friends, finding small moments of joy in everyday life, and seeking medical guidance where appropriate. It also means allowing ourselves to grieve the timeline we had imagined and to be gentle with our own emotions. Community—listening to others and letting others listen—has been unexpectedly powerful.
If you are navigating something similar, you might find it helpful to reach out to trusted people, to join a support group, or simply to read honest accounts from other parents. These connections don’t erase the pain, but they can make it easier to carry.
Where to Read More
I’m sharing more details about our path with secondary infertility in a guest post on a friend’s blog today. If you’d like to read the full story and the deeper reflections I’ve written, you can find it linked from here.
Thank you for letting me be vulnerable in this space. Writing about this has helped me process a lot of emotion, and I hope it helps someone else feel seen.