Infertility Limbo: The Loneliness No One Talks About
Written by Dr. Colleen Reichmann (owner and clinical director of Wildflower Therapy in Philadelphia and Devon PA) for Infertility Awareness Week
There’s a particular kind of loneliness that lives inside infertility. It’s not the kind that comes from being alone, but the kind that comes from being surrounded by people who, try as they might, cannot quite understand what it feels like to wait, to hope, to get scared to hope, to not actually know.
I call this “infertility limbo”-a space that is both crowded and isolating, where many people are quietly standing, but rarely speaking to one another .If you’re here, you may already know this feeling intimately.
In infertility limbo, you are always waiting
Waiting for ovulation. Waiting for the phone call. Waiting for test results.Waiting for your period. Waiting for the next surgery.
Your life begins to organize itself around two-week increments and “what ifs.” You stop making long-term plans because everything feels provisional. Trips. Career decisions. Even buying clothes.
Because what if this is finally the month everything changes?
In infertility limbo, you exist between identities
You are not child-free by choice. You are not a parent. You are somewhere in between-watching the other parents walk around through a glass window pane, and wondering when it will be your time. Sometimes it can feel like you’re banging on the glass with both fists, desperately trying to get in. This “in between” can feel so disorienting. Research shows that infertility often creates a sense of “otherness”-a feeling of being outside the social norm, especially in spaces where parenthood is expected or assumed .
You may find yourself wondering:
Where do I belong?
In infertility limbo, grief doesn’t have a clear shape
There is loss, but nothing tangible to point to.
No funeral.
No ritual.
No clear endpoint.
And yet the grief is real. Many women describe infertility as a kind of ambiguous grief-one that is ongoing, invisible, and difficult for others to validate. You might even question whether you’re “allowed” to feel this way. (You are. Please hear me. You are.)
In infertility limbo, your body feels complicated
Your body becomes a source of hope, and sometimes a source of disappointment. It’s also a constant ground for monitoring
There are appointments, injections, medications, side effects.
And underneath it all, the humming question: Why isn’t this working?
Over time, this can shift your relationship with your body from trust to scrutiny. From friend to enemy. From one, to totally separate entities.
In infertility limbo, other people’s joy can feel painful
You can be genuinely happy for someone…
and also feel a sharp ache in your chest.
Pregnancy announcements, baby showers, and casual comments like, “It happened so fast for us” can feel like knives to the heart.
These moments can intensify the sense of isolation. Because infertility is often invisible and misunderstood. Many people don’t know how to talk about it in the best of times. And in the times when people are easily able to traverse into the parent world that you are trying everything to get into- it can increase feelings of “I’m so alone. I’m on the outskirts. It’s so much easier for everyone else, such a battle for me.”
In infertility limbo, you may feel alone, even when you’re not
Infertility is incredibly common. And yet, it is often experienced in silence. It truly feels like the the embodiment of loneliness. Because even when you share what you’re going through, you may find that people don’t know what to say. They shift the conversation quickly. Or the support feels surface-level. Or awkward. So you carry it quietly.
In infertility limbo, life can feel on hold
You may delay:
• Career moves
• Financial decisions
• Where you live
• How you imagine your future
Because everything hinges on an outcome that is uncertain. This “paused life” is one of the most psychologically taxing parts of infertility, and one that often goes unrecognized.
So what actually helps?
Well, as someone who went through years of infertility (including IVF), I can name a few things that don’t work: Toxic positivity. Others minimizing how hard this is. “You’ll get your baby!”
What helps is:
• Being witnessed in the complexity of your experience
• Having language for what you’re going through
• Finding spaces where you don’t have to explain yourself or lay out what the medical realm in your life looks like right now.
• Working toward a life that can expand even in uncertainty
Therapy can be one of those spaces. Not to rush you out of grief or force acceptance, but to help you, process the ambiguity, navigate relationships, reconnect with your sense of self, and maybe even try to build a life that isn’t entirely dictated by waiting.
Infertility support in Philadelphia and Devon
At Wildflower Therapy, we work with women navigating infertility, pregnancy loss, and the emotional complexity of trying to grow a family.
Our approach is:
• Compassionate and non-pathologizing
• Grounded in evidence-based therapy
• Attuned to the realities of “infertility limbo”
Our therapists at Wildflower Therapy provide therapy for those going through infertility, miscarriage, IVF, and pregnancy after inferility or loss in Philadelphia and Devon (and throughout Pennsylvania.) You are not alone, even though I know it can feel this way. You are deserving of time to talk about how hard this feels, and someone who can sit in the shadows of this moment next to you, without question or hesitation.
We also support children, teens, adults, and families across Pennsylvania who are navigating things like eating disorders, disordered eating, ADHD, body image concerns, anxiety, depression, and maternal mental health.
We provide therapy in-person in Philadelphia and Devon, (and virtually throughout Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, Florida, South Carolina, Vermont, Virginia, Ohio, and Massechusetts.) We work with children, adolescents, and adults.
If you’re looking for a therapist in Philadelphia, Devon, or Pennsylvania, we’d be honored to walk alongside you. Please reach out today to book your free consultation call.
Final thoughts
If you are in infertility limbo, please know that we see you. Even if no one in your life knows, you are seen here. Your struggle is important. You are living inside absolutely gutting uncertainty, something the human brain is not built to tolerate easily.
And still, you are here. Fists grasped around gritty hope. Shouldering grief. Holding both at the same time. Heroic is the word that comes to mind (even though it’s so unfair that you have to be.) Please remember how courageous you are, and be gentle with yourself.