The worst part about infertility is not being able to talk about it. It’s seeing your friends on Facebook posting their pregnancy announcements when they weren’t even trying. It’s going through treatments, charting, poking, testing and not being able to tell your friends because you don’t want to have to tell everyone “not this month” again. It’s the anguish of your husband’s eyes as you tell him you got your period and he does his best to stay positive for you and tell you “we’ll try again this month.”

I don’t blame my friends and family. It’s my choice not to talk about it. Because it hurts to have them look at me like I’m broken. But it hurts worse to ugly cry in my room and still try to reply to texts like my heart isn’t shattered.

I know I’m not...but I feel so alone. Why is this so hard. Why can’t my body work like it’s supposed to. Why can I follow every rule, every bit of advice, every old wives tale and STILL can’t get pregnant.

I wish I had someone in my immediate life to talk to about this. Who knows what this ache feels like. But I don’t. Or maybe I do and they too sit and silently cry trying not to bother anyone else.

Infertility sucks so bad.