Thank you for so bravely sharing your infertility journey, something so often kept silent in our society. It’s a topic not many women share, one that is deeply personal, even considered “taboo.” As you open up to the world about your past struggles to have a child, I find myself in tears.
For years, the world speculated, watching your every move. Tabloids picked and prodded at the slightest sign you might be pregnant. To the rest of the world, you had it all. So naturally, a child would come next. But as the headlines debated whether or not you were pregnant, you were quietly going through the emotional rollercoaster of IVF.
You courageously said in Allure magazine, “The [world] creates narratives that aren’t true, so I might as well tell the truth. I feel like I’m coming out of hibernation. I don’t have anything to hide.”
In vitro fertilization is sometimes the last chance of becoming pregnant. But the hope and excitement of having a child is paired with endless bruises from injections and blood draws. IVF is both emotionally and physically draining. And, for so many women, that hope is met with heartache when fertility treatments don’t work.
Dear Jennifer, thank you for being a voice for others who may silently suffer.
For the woman who longs to be a mother, yet feels her heart sink month after month with every negative pregnancy test. For the woman who finds herself filled with frustration, the quiet sobs consuming her sleepless nights. For the woman who feels jealousy at the sight of yet another pregnancy announcement on social media. And for the woman who, like you, faces constant scrutiny and questions about why she doesn’t have a child of her own.
One in eight women experiences infertility. But as the world around you keeps on moving, infertility can feel so isolating.
Dear Jennifer, I’ve cheered you on for decades. I’ve laughed at your comedic talents and I longed for that perfect “Rachel” haircut years ago. I’ve read the magazines that speculated about your relationships and I’ve wondered what skin routine makes you look like you haven’t aged.
But today, I look at you differently.
Behind that genuine smile and perceived perfection, I see a woman, much like myself. You never know what someone may be going through. Reproductive decisions are personal, yet the gossip and pregnancy rumors constantly put your personal life in the forefront.
Dear Jennifer, thank you for your vulnerability. By sharing your own struggle with infertility, you are helping to change the narrative for women who walk a similar path. And through your candid, honest talk, you are proving life can be beautiful on the other side of the journey.