Infertility is Largely Invisible

Written by Hilary Walton

I’m just another woman living in British Columbia. But behind the scenes, I’m quietly navigating the hardest storm I’ve ever faced. If you saw me at the coffee shop or the gym, you’d never know the effort put into keeping things together. You see, my husband and I have been trying to conceive for far longer than I’d like to admit. Instead of the life we’ve imagined, I’ve faced pregnancy loss, painful invasive tests, and unsuccessful treatments. This path hasn’t been easy and like many dealing with this reality, I initially chose to brave it alone. However, the longer the road became and the more compounded the emotional, mental, physical, and financial losses grew, I realized I couldn’t handle this on my own.

The World Health Organization estimates 1 in 6 women (17%) experience infertility. According to Stats Canada 2025 Q4, BC has 5,658,528 citizens. Of that number, 2,459,000 are female. With these figures in mind, there are approximately 418,030 women today battling fertility challenges. As I’ve come to learn, infertility is a club no one wants to be a part of, yet there are countless of us out here, confronting it head-on.

Infertility is largely invisible, so let’s break down the toll it takes on those who battle it. Since my first loss, I’ve been suspended in time, tethered to uncertainty as I watch my life pass by. I’m unable to commit to plans, book holidays, or move forward more than 28 days in advance. I work full time, volunteer in my spare time, and get on the best I can. Yet, I’ve lost sleep. I’ve lost time. I’ve lost weight. I’ve lost money. I’ve lost friends. At times, I’ve even lost myself. I mourn the children that could’ve been, the time we could’ve spent together, the opportunity for them to meet their grandparents, and the moments they didn’t get to be a part of. Every day feels like a fresh start and a reminder of what isn’t here.

The mental and physical health impacts of infertility, repeated non-conception, hormone medications, and failed treatments are more visible. I’ve cried so many tears that they feel less like moments of grief and more like the traumatic records of everything I’ve carried through this. I’ve spent days in bed, unable to function, stuck in cycles of hope, anxiety, despair, anger, and guilt. They’re never ending and relentless. In my darkest moments, I’ve fought to break the cycle and sought help from perinatal phycologists, massage therapists, acupuncturists, naturopathic doctors, physiotherapists, and the infertility community at large. While imperative to my wellbeing, looking after myself and trying to have a family come at tangible costs.

The financial expense of infertility is unconscionable. This province is among the most expensive in Canada when it comes to basic life essentially, such as housing, groceries, and transportation. Here the cost for a single IVF cycle averages $30,000.00 including medications and the fact is, many of us need more than 1 cycle. Even with the publicly funded in-vitro fertilization (IVF) program – which by the way, not everyone qualifies for – the costs hit hard. When fertility related charges are combined with those for maintaining women’s physical and mental health, the costs become astronomical.

People experiencing infertility fall through gaps in BC’s social and healthcare systems. They’re meant to support us but are unprepared for the volume of demand and duration these services are required. However, support does exist. It exists through the generosity and benevolence of foundations such as the Butterfly Support Network, the Pacific Perinatal Foundation, Modern Miracle Foundation, Fertility Friends Foundation, and many others. It’s through foundations such as these that I found my feet again. They’ve become the pillars that hold me on the heavy days, supplying me with community and resources. As I prepare to move onto my next steps, it’s been reassuring that while I still may feel alone, I’m not – not really. And if you are facing this too, you’re not alone either.