You Don’t Need to Fix It: Offering Support for Infertility

Try sitting with someone today, without rushing to fill the silence. It’s harder than it sounds, but can be extremely impactful.

Active listening becomes even more important when a loved one is facing something emotionally layered like infertility. It’s natural to want to help, and many of us feel an almost reflexive urge to ask questions or offer advice; it’s how we show care, understand the situation, and how we try to “do something.” But when it comes to grief, especially the kind that isn’t always visible, that instinct may miss the mark, even when it comes from a place of love.

We’ve all been on the receiving end of advice. Some of it is practical and appreciated, like “Back up your files regularly,” after a computer crash. But other times, it’s less helpful. Think of hearing something generic, like, “Everything happens for a reason” after a heartbreak. The difference between helpful and harmful advice often isn’t the intent — it’s the context, the timing, and the emotional weight of the moment.

The Unintended Risks of Advice

Advice is rarely neutral. It often carries underlying assumptions, values, or even judgments. Imagine someone already exhausted from treatments hearing, "Have you tried IVF?" It may feel like they’re being told they haven’t tried hard enough. Or if they don’t intend to pursue IVF, it might sound like a directive.

Research supports this. In one study, people who received active listening responses felt significantly more understood than those who received advice or simple acknowledgments, suggesting that listening, rather than fixing, fosters deeper emotional connection and support (Weger, Bell, Minei, & Robinson, 2014).

When grief is involved, advice may unintentionally suggest that something needs to be “solved” or “corrected.” But grief is a process. Trying to fix it with a one-liner or a solution can make someone feel that their pain is being minimized or brushed aside.

When Questions Hurt More Than Help

Questions, too, can unexpectedly convey value judgments. A seemingly casual, “Do you have kids?” or “How long have you been trying?” might come from curiosity, but for someone in the midst of infertility, it may feel invasive or accusatory.

What sounds like small talk to one person may feel like an interrogation to another. Each question risks reopening wounds or asking for deeply personal disclosures that someone may not be ready or willing to share. Instead of building connection, these questions may create distance, discomfort, or even shame.

Of course, some people may welcome thoughtful questions or guidance — but that’s why asking with care, not assumption, makes all the difference.

The Power of Listening

Therapists have long recognized the effectiveness of empathetic, nonjudgmental listening. In therapy, this is foundational, but it holds just as much power in everyday conversations.

Research shows that high-quality listening — listening that is attentive, nonjudgmental, and validating — helps people feel understood and safe, especially in emotionally difficult conversations (Weinstein, Itzchakov, & Legate, 2022). This kind of listening satisfies people’s needs for autonomy and emotional connection. In other words, it gives someone the space to express their truth without fear of judgment or interruption.

We often underestimate what it means to just be there. To sit with someone without trying to analyze, fix, or lighten the mood. To walk beside someone and convey to them that, “You don’t have to explain yourself to be worthy of support.”

When we resist the urge to fill silence with advice or probing questions, we create room for others to feel supported and validated. It shows that being present matters more than having the perfect words.

Infertility Essential Reads

The Hidden Struggle of Waiting in Fertility Treatment

How Fertility Stress Disrupts Intimacy

Why We Struggle to Just Listen

So why do we default to advice and ask an excessive amount of questions, even when we know they might not help? Part of it is discomfort since silence can feel awkward. We mistake activity for compassion, and we’re often taught that support means giving answers and offering solutions.

But especially when the grief is socially unacknowledged — as is often the case with infertility — what people truly need is not a strategy or a silver lining. They need to feel that their pain is real, that it matters, and that they don’t have to bear it alone.

High-quality listening helps meet those emotional needs. It offers people the freedom to speak (or not speak) without pressure and says: I’m with you, not because I have the right words, but because I care.

Infertility is a deeply personal and emotional experience that deserves empathy, respect, and space. If someone trusts you enough to share their story, resist the impulse to advise or probe. Don’t pivot the conversation to someone else’s success story or try to wrap their pain in positivity.

Instead, offer what may be the most underrated form of support: your presence. Listen without needing to fix. Sit with their discomfort without trying to make it disappear. Let them know that their experience doesn’t need to be explained or justified to be honored.

Because sometimes, words only get in the way and what matters most is just being there.