We tend to think of gardens as beautiful, peaceful places where mind and body are restored and refreshed. Yet in Scripture, gardens are often places of struggle and suffering. Just ask the Old Testament Susannah, who was falsely accused of adultery in a garden (a story we heard at daily Mass last week – see Daniel 13)!

On the path of infertility, we often relate more to Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane than to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden before the Fall. Like Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane, we desperately pray alone while all our friends seem to sleep in unconcern. 

Jesus’s loneliness is most relatable for me as we approach National Infertility Awareness Week April 20-26. This cross is often isolating. We face misunderstandings from well-meaning family members who might not know what to say, work colleagues who make uncomfortable comments, and even parish priests who fail to make us feel at home. 

In some ways, it’s understandable. Before my husband and I experienced infertility for ourselves, I really hadn’t given it much thought. Sure, I have an aunt and uncle who adopted my cousins after they couldn’t have children of their own. I knew families with “miracle babies” or who had experienced miscarriages, stillbirths, or infant loss. 

But that wasn’t my experience. Hearing stories of infertility and loss felt more akin to learning about a natural disaster on the other side of the world than anything else. Perhaps our family and friends feel the same way. Here are a few things I wish others knew about carrying the cross of infertility. 

  • Infertility is an ongoing cross. I think that this might be the hardest aspect of infertility to convey. Unfortunately, this is not a cross that is healed over time. In fact, time often makes the burden feel even heavier, as other families grow and yours does not. Suffering is uncomfortable to watch. Others feel the urge to “fix” it. There’s frequently  an unspoken expectation or assumption that we will “get over it.” While usually unintentional, this can be very painful. I recently turned down an invitation to a baby shower, explaining that I don’t currently attend baby showers due to the many emotions surrounding such an event. My friend responded by saying she was sorry I was “still going through this.” Yes! Infertility is an ongoing struggle, even if we’re not talking about it all the time. Being sensitive to this continuous grief is one of the greatest gifts family and friends can give us. Using open-ended questions instead of making assumptions can make it easier for those struggling to share their challenges.

 

  • Infertility isn’t just not having kids. Infertility looks different for everyone, as it’s ultimately a symptom of underlying health conditions, not a disease itself. Many of us on this path are juggling multiple medical diagnoses or other health challenges that are very difficult to resolve. This means that not only are we not surrounded with the babies and children we expected to welcome into our homes, we are often working through surgeries, medications, and more. These health challenges took me by surprise, as I had few medical issues growing up. Waking up feeling unwell, recovering from surgeries, and not even being able to exercise all add to the difficulty of this cross. This is why unsolicited suggestions of treatments, supplements, or novenas can be hard to hear! This is also one reason why couples who end up adopting or experience secondary infertility may still struggle. Understanding that this journey looks different for everyone is a huge step forward, since the treatments or supplements that worked for one couple may not apply in the same way to another. 

 

  • Infertility makes good news hard to hear.  Those of us on this path have an immense appreciation for the gift of life – but it’s difficult when that gift isn’t for us. I was trying to find my new physical therapist’s office to continue healing from a recent surgery. As I was driving in circles, I got a text from a friend with an ultrasound picture, announcing that she was expecting. “Of course,” I thought to myself. At that moment, I couldn’t help comparing how different my life was than hers. Comparison is a huge temptation when the contrast is so great. We truly want to share in the joy of family and friends welcoming new life, but it often takes some time to absorb this news and respond joyfully. Simply asking how best to share such news (over text, in a private conversation, etc.) can allow us to share more fully in your excitement. Being sensitive in conversations about growing families can also help, because no, not “everyone” is getting pregnant right now. 

For those who have not personally walked this path, these struggles can be difficult to understand – just as the disciples found the Garden of Gethsemane the perfect place to rest, completely unaware of the existential struggle happening right in front of them. 

But Jesus did not give up on His disciples. He gave them another chance to learn and to enter into His work of suffering and redemption. This Holy Thursday, let us join Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, praying for the strength to do His will. And as we approach National Infertility Awareness Week, let’s try inviting someone into the garden with us. 

We know that the cross is not the end: Jesus’ resurrection came only three days later. He is triumphant over sin and death; these things all work together for our good. In the Garden of Gethsemane, when we feel abandoned and alone, this is difficult to see. But the Resurrection is a promise of the glory to come, when our wounds are transformed into precious jewels of victory. 

Riley and her husband Josh were married in 2020 and live in Washington, DC. She enjoys journaling, playing Scrabble, spending time in Adoration, hanging out with family, and taking care of her inordinate number of house plants.