I was struck by a comment on Facebook recently from a woman who, not unkindly, was wondering why a pregnancy announcement would cause sadness for someone in a season of infertility. I was surprised because, having experienced the range of emotions that come with reacting to someone else’s pregnancy announcement, I assumed the answer would be self-evident. Yet, as I sat and pondered what my answer would be, I realized there were many layers to it. So, I decided to write it out, to try and capture the many thoughts and emotions that flit through my head when someone shares their good news:

There is a feeling of mourning. I love my friend, and I am happy for them, but I mourn for myself – that it’s not me sharing news with them.

It’s grief at having to face another change. I recognize that our relationship will rightly change, but I mourn it. As the friend with no children, I have more freedom to be flexible and adapt to their needs, to care for my friend and continue the friendship. But, that requires change, multiplied by however many people are having babies at any given time. Sometimes it can feel like I’m the one who always has to change and make space, even as it feels like the space they have available to me shrinks. And while I truly love these babies, and my heart always grows to include them, it can feel like their arrivals make my place in the world smaller. There are seasons where it feels like it comes at me from all sides, and I wonder…is there any space that is mine to keep?

I spoke to a friend about these kinds of fears, and she mentioned that she has had the same experience as a new mom. She said that, after the birth of her son, texts, calls, and visits weren’t so much about her, but rather about seeing her baby. And while she was grateful for the love he was shown, she sometimes felt she was just his vehicle for a visit and not a visitor in her own right.   

I was a grateful for the conversation because it made me realize that the sadness that was so isolating for me, wasn’t actually isolated. My friends and family may not be experiencing my particular situation, but that doesn’t mean they can’t relate to it. When I took a step back from my own sorrows and looked at other experiences, I recognized that women in all states of life could face this struggle with space: a single woman who feels there isn’t space for her among her married friends; a mom who may feel like all her space is taken up by her children, who wonders where she herself, her marriage, and other relationships fit in; a woman caring for a sick parent or relative whose space is dictated by their needs and schedule; and women like me, who wonder whether there is space in other people’s lives to still love her, along with their children.   

I know this is not a uniquely female problem, that men can experience this grappling too. But it does feel like it can be a uniquely-felt female problem, because so much of it is tied to our identity as woman. What is womanhood for a woman who feels like she cannot fulfill this most innate female desire to have children? What is womanhood when we fulfill the role of mother, but it feels as if it takes other parts of our identity from us? What is womanhood for a woman who wants desperately to be married but hasn’t fallen in love? In all these situations, we are no less woman because of our individual experiences, yet we may often feel less than. Why? 

I don’t have all the answers; I think my post would have started differently if that were the case, but I do know we were not made to feel this way. God does not desire women to feel like the identity of “womanhood” and the space we occupy has to be justified in any way. Though it may carry with it great sorrow, I am not less a woman if I never have the joy of carrying a child. The same way another woman is not less a woman for only having one child, or having five, or never marrying, or marrying later in life, or having to quit her job to care for a parent, and so on. Though I may not always feel or believe it, my space does not need to be justified. 

Even as I continue to muddle through this in our fallen world, where there will be times that people make me feel less-than, I know a place where it is always true – the heart of Christ. Jesus who accompanies me in my suffering wants me to take up space. He wants me to run to Him and find solace in His Sacred Heart. I take up space in the heart of Christ and I always will. And nothing I say, do, accomplish, or experience will ever lessen that space in His heart. 

It doesn’t erase the pain of this season of infertility, but when I find a new change difficult to process, or find myself doubting my place in the world, I know I need only bring my sufferings to Christ – who has space for them all.  

Veronica Simon and her husband Austin married in 2023 and live in Virginia. Her hobbies include reading, cooking, sewing, watching too many instagram reels, and thrifting. She is grateful to have found the Springs in the Desert community.