Acknowledgement
Fertility Grief Part 1
Six times I hoped. Six times I grieved.
So when the Jewish calendar asks us to mourn destruction - I don’t need a fast day to remember what’s missing.
Fertility grief during the Three Weeks isn’t just symbolic.
It’s personal.
It’s raw.
Trip to the Mikvah
A heartbreaking anonymous story gives an insight into one woman’s feelings as she prepares for her visit to the mikvah (ritual bath), a necessity in orthodox communities before husband and wife reunite. This immersion happens after a woman finishes menstruating, and it renders her ritually clean to have sex again.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
This process is deeply painful for those who are not able to get pregnant or for those who have lost a pregnancy, as it is a monthly reminder that their bodies are not carrying a child. (When someone is pregnant, she usually does not menstruate, therefore she does not have to go to the mikvah).
This writer shares all of her emotions, as she dips in the water.
Halachic infertility
PSA: This next story about Halachic infertility is hard to read.
For those of you who spend every waking moment steeped in Jewish law, following its every edit with all of its nuances, it’s difficult to contemplate someone who doesn’t take it as seriously as you.
And we know that it’s probably going to be even more difficult hearing from some one who chose to turn away from Halacha (jewish law). This someone tried every possible way to stay within the confines of what the law was saying, but instead felt isolated, angered, depressed and shut down. She chose to do what she needed to do for her mental health.
And why are we sharing her story? Because IWSTHAB’s mission is to hold space, comfort and validate anyone who is struggling to have a child. And in this case, the anger and disillusionment are the emotions that need to be supported.
Also, we want to remind all of you that when you ask “How many children do you have?” you really have NO IDEA what people are going through, and how hard it is for them to get through one single day. Because if you had a window into our DM’s, you would see that this woman is not the only one who is trying her best to straddle her desire to have a family with the confines of jewish law.
Mikvah Attendent
The mikvah can be a deeply emotional experience—especially for those navigating infertility, loss, or pain. Even well-meaning comments can unintentionally cause hurt.
This post is a gentle reminder: when in doubt, keep it simple.
Be supportive. Be respectful. Most importantly, be quiet when silence is more healing than words.
That’s what Matters Most
That’s what matters most ❤️🫂
Dear Mikvah
Dear Mikvah—
Thank you @shoshanastavsky for your words. You are not alone 🫂
Mikvah Voices From The Community
For anyone who has ever dreaded the water, feared the touch, or cried alone in their car after doing “what you’re supposed to do”... You are not alone. You never were.
We’re sharing this with permission, so others might feel less invisible.
Mikvah Confessions
Mikvah Night isn’t always joyful…
“The world tells us mikvah night is magical. The night of possibility, of connection. But what if it’s also the night of pressure? Of dread? Of crying in the car on the way there because you’re scared of more disappointment? You’re not broken if it feels this way. You’re human.”
If mikvah night feels hard — what do you wish people understood?
Mikvah
Mikvah - it’s beautiful, it’s magical, it’s triggering, it’s complicated, it’s painful. It can be all of these things when you’re trying to have a baby.
Rituals
There can be comfort in the consistency of ritual.
There’s comfort in the rhythm, in the embrace of the water.
Nothing is happening at the pace I would choose, but there is an opportunity for a resurgence of hope and the possibility of new beginnings.
But there’s also pain—
the grief of dipping again when you wished this month would be different. Mikvah and taharat hamishpacha aren’t simple.
They carry both hope and heartache.
4th of July
Fireworks. Flags. Family BBQs.
And also… grief. Triggers. Feeling completely untethered.
For many in our community, July 4th isn’t about freedom—it’s about feeling trapped. In a body that won’t cooperate. In a story you didn’t choose. In a world that doesn’t understand.
We see you. You don’t owe anyone a red-white-and-blue highlight reel. Light a sparkler or don’t—your heart gets to come first.
Unhelpful comments
Spoiler alert: we don’t.
Fertility Journey
Someone else’s fertility journey isn’t the place for your dreams of grandkids, nieces, or nephews.
Read the room
Read the room. Some of us are still waiting for what you’re complaining about.
Pain changes people
We do not care that we’ve changed. Pain changes people—and we’re still here.
Your fertility journey
And now… Israel.
There’s no guidebook for grieving your own pain while your people are grieving on a whole other level.
If your heart feels split between your personal loss and collective mourning all of us are doing, you’re human.
You get to hold both.
Another Month, Another Heartbreak
Another month, another heartbreak. Sharing these words for everyone quietly carrying this weight.
If you’re in this fight too, you’re not alone. Holding space for all the shattered hopes, endless prayers, and unwavering strength.
My Story of Circumstantial Infertility
Thank you so much to @sam_ster_ela for sharing her circumstantial infertility story with us. We’re holding you and everyone dealing with this pain 🫂🫂🫂
Grief and the Unknown
Waiting.
Waiting.
More waiting.
For what feels like forever.