No one talks about how lonely secondary infertility feels

 No one talks about how lonely secondary infertility feels.

You have a child, so people assume your heart is full.
They don’t see the monthly heartbreak.
They don’t hear the silent “maybe next time” after every negative test.

You show up for your little one with a smile, while silently grieving the sibling they keep asking for.
You carry guilt for wanting more, and shame for not being able to make it happen.

Your body has done it before, and now it feels like it's letting you down.
You’re stuck in a strange place between gratitude and grief.
You love what you have, but ache for what you dream of.

And that doesn't make you ungrateful.
That makes you human.
That makes you a mom with a heart big enough for more.

If you're in this space, I see you.
You're not alone in this ache.
And your feelings are more than valid.