Sister Feelings: How to support a loved one through infertility

I don’t mean it in a selfish way, I know it sounds like it but I miss her smile. I miss the light that used to shine as she entered a room.

I miss her laugh, her vibrant and crazy self. All I see now is sadness, anger but mostly exhaustion. Yet in the same glance, I see strength, hope and the ability to help others struggling just like her. The ability to share her story in detail even though it brings up memories I am sure she doesn’t want to relive.

One of the most selfless people I know. I want her to be genuinely happy again. I want her happy, down to her core.

I feel sad on Mother’s Day knowing my sister can’t share in the same joy as I do. It’s tough celebrating milestones for my kids when I know she can’t. It’s hard explaining my hectic day with the kids, knowing she isn’t experiencing the same. It’s hard knowing I can have children so easily while she struggles.

Her story has been a roller coaster of emotions and I share in those too. Obviously not as bad as she does but I too feel the nerves before a transfer, happy when the positive line appears, nervous while pregnant and destroyed after the loss.

Then trying to figure out the words to say and how to be there for her. How do I comfort her? Do I tell her things she has heard a thousand times or do I sit there in silence and offer a shoulder to cry on? Do I give her space to grieve or suffocate her with love?

I never know and it doesn’t get any easier.

I’m angry. Not her kind of angry but a sisterly angry. Why her? She is so deserving of a child. I see her with my kids and the love and patience she exudes. She’s a natural. It’s not fair. She could be sharing that with her own.

I know there is nothing I can do but just make sure I am there for my sister in all ways possible.