I was at the Prudential Center lighting last night, and it’s still sitting with me.
Each year, National Infertility Awareness Week brings conversations about infertility into the light.
This year, it takes place April 19–25, 2026.
And here in Boston, that visibility started early. The Prudential Center was lit orange in partnership with AllPaths Family Building to help raise awareness and honor those navigating infertility.
For many, this week is a chance to feel seen.
For others, it can feel heavy. Complicated. Even a little isolating.
Because infertility really isn’t just one thing.
It’s more than a diagnosis. More than a treatment plan. More than an outcome.
And for many people, it doesn’t simply end when the family building journey does.
For Those Still in the Trenches
If you’re still in the middle of trying to build your family, this week can be especially hard.
There are more stories, more posts, more reminders of something that already takes up so much space in your life. You might feel hopeful one moment and completely depleted the next. You might find yourself comparing, wondering, bracing.
There’s no right way to move through this week.
If it feels supportive to engage, do that.
If it feels better to step back, you’re allowed to do that too.
If you’re looking for infertility support, organizations like AllPaths Family Building offer groups for so many different experiences. There are groups for men, for people who are currently pregnant after loss or infertility, for those parenting after infertility, and more.
It can feel incredibly isolating to be in this space. But there’s something powerful that happens when you’re in a room (even a virtual one) with people who truly get it. People who’ve walked the path you’re on, or who are walking it alongside you.
You don’t have to carry it by yourself.
You’re not behind. You’re not alone. Even if it feels that way sometimes.
When the Journey “Ends” But the Feelings Don’t
We don’t talk enough about what happens after infertility.
Whether your path led to parenting, to living child-free not by choice, or somewhere in between, the experience often leaves a lasting imprint.
There can be grief for what was lost along the way.
Pregnancies that didn’t continue.
Paths that didn’t unfold the way you imagined.
Sometimes even parts of yourself that feel different now.
Even when there’s joy, even when there’s relief, even when there’s deep love for where you are now, those pieces don’t just disappear.
Infertility can shape how you see your body.
How you experience time.
How you relate to uncertainty.
It becomes part of your story.
The Invisible “After”
Even when the outside world sees a resolution, there’s often an invisible “after infertility” that continues quietly.
Anniversaries that only you remember.
Dates that still carry weight.
Moments that catch you off guard, like a pregnancy announcement or a casual comment that lands differently than it once did.
There can be a sense of “before and after.”
A recognition that something about you has changed.
In my practice, I see this more often than people expect. Even when the journey looks “complete” from the outside, there’s often so much still being held underneath.
This is part of the “more than” that doesn’t always get named.
Wherever You Are This Week
However you’re experiencing this week is valid.
Whether you are:
- in the middle of trying
- grieving what hasn’t happened
- parenting after infertility
- or still making sense of what you’ve been through
There’s no right way to feel.
You don’t have to force meaning out of this week.
You don’t have to share your story if you don’t want to.
You don’t have to feel hopeful if you don’t.
You’re allowed your full experience.
Because infertility is more than a moment in time.
It’s more than a diagnosis.
It’s more than an outcome.
And whatever your story looks like, it deserves space.