Hannah Kidder

07/23/2026

Some bruises don't show up on an ultrasound.

No one asks about them at your monitoring appointment. They don't factor into your protocol or your prognosis.

But they are real. They are heavy. And they deserve to be seen just as much as the ones on your skin.

If you're carrying both kinds right now — the visible and the invisible — I see you.

All of it counts. All of it matters. All of you matters.

💙 Save this if it resonates. Share it if someone else needs to feel seen today.

07/09/2026

Let's talk about one of the most pervasive myths in the infertility world:

IVF = baby.

I understand why people believe this. IVF sounds like a solution. A medical fix. The thing you do when everything else hasn't worked. And from the outside, it can look like a straight line from procedure to pregnancy.

Unfortunately, it is not a straight line.

Many folks endure failed cycles, canceled retrievals, and the particular devastation of learning that none of your embryos were viable. That there is nothing to transfer. That the process is over before it really began.

I also know this personally.

I've had five embryo transfers. The first three failed.

I know what it's like to go through the injections and the monitoring appointments and the retrieval and the waiting — and then the call that changes the shape of your week, your month, and your sense of what's possible. I know what it's like to do that more than once. To find the hope again after you were sure you'd used it all up.

The fourth transfer worked. My child is here. And I am so aware that this is not everyone's story.

So if you're in the middle of this — if you're on your first transfer or your fifth, if you're waiting on embryo reports that may not bring good news, if you're trying to hold hope without letting it hollow you out — I want you to know:

Your hope is not naive. Your grief is not failure. And however this ends, you are not defined by the outcome.

The journey matters. You matter. Even when the answer is not the one you needed.

💙 If this resonates, share it with someone who needs to feel less alone today.

07/03/2026

Same procedure. Same woman. Completely different experience. Let me tell you what I learned.

In 2020, I had two invasive fertility procedures — an HSG and an SHG. Both were excruciating. I white-knuckled my way through them, told myself this was just how it was, and left feeling like my body had been handled rather than cared for.

Years later, I needed both procedures repeated. New OB this time.

He narrated everything before he did it. He went slowly. He told me I could ask for a break at any point. He checked in with me throughout.

The difference was staggering.

It wasn't until afterward that I learned my previous doctor was, in the words of a colleague, "known for doing things hastily."

Known. For doing things hastily. To women's bodies. During painful procedures.

I'm a therapist. I know how to advocate for myself. And I still didn't know I could ask for something different.

So I'm telling you now: you can ask for something different.

You can say:
✨ "Can you narrate what you're doing as you go?"
✨ "I need you to go slowly."
✨ "I'd like to be able to ask for breaks."
✨ "This doesn't feel okay — can we stop?"
✨ "I'd like to find a different provider."

The medical system was not built with your nervous system in mind. But you are allowed to demand that it meet you there anyway.

Your body. Your pace. Your right.

💙 Share this with someone who needs it.

07/01/2026

MYTH: Secondary infertility isn't a big deal. Can't you just be grateful for the kids you already have?

I've heard this one. Maybe you have too.

And I want to name it clearly: that question is not kindness. It's a way of telling someone that their grief has conditions. That wanting more is somehow ungrateful. That love is a finite resource that should make loss hurt less.

None of that is true.

Secondary infertility — the inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy after already having a child — affects 1 in 10 couples. And it carries its own specific, tender wound.

Because you know what parenthood feels like. You know the weight of a child in your arms. And you want that again. You pictured a sibling. A fuller table. A different version of your family than the one you're living.

That dream deserves to be grieved. Fully. Without asterisks.

Gratitude for what you have doesn't cancel out grief for what you've lost. Both can live in you at the same time. That's not contradiction — that's being human.

If you're navigating secondary infertility, I see you. Your loss is real. Your longing is valid. And you don't owe anyone a silver lining.

💙 Save this if you needed to hear it. Share it if someone else does too.

06/28/2026

If you've been wanting to write through your infertility journey but don't know where to start — this is for you, friend.

The Messy Middle is a free beginner's guide to writing through infertility. Tips, prompts, and honest support for wherever you are in this. No journaling experience needed. No toxic positivity. Just space to be real with yourself.

Swipe through and then head to the link in my bio to grab your free copy. It'll be in your inbox within minutes.

06/25/2026

The mental health gap is real--- and we need to be talking about it.

Infertility can take a major emotional toll, but mental health support is still often overlooked in fertility care.

In a new commentary, Anderson et al. (2026) reviewed evidence showing that fertility patients have much higher rates of stress, anxiety, and depression than the general population, with many also experiencing grief, loneliness, and loss of control. The authors note that this emotional burden can affect not only mental well-being, but also treatment dropout and possibly IVF outcomes.

They highlight several psychological interventions that might help, including cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), mind-body programs, and virtual mental health services, all of which have been linked to lower distress.

The authors also point to major barriers to care, including cost, stigma, limited awareness of available services, and a shortage of mental health professionals trained in reproductive medicine. They argue that mental health support should be treated as an essential part of fertility care, not an optional extra.

The authors ask: “How can this field have progressed so far in technology and pregnancy success rates, but remain stagnant in terms of how to best care for the emotional well-being of its patients?”

✅ This post is a quick look at one study, rather than a full breakdown on Remembryo. Link to the study is in the comments.

✉️ Like this post? Get a free weekly summary of the latest IVF research (link in the comments).

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒄-𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒑, 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔.

06/21/2026

Father’s Day can hold a lot.

For some, it is sweet and simple.

For others, it is complicated.

It can bring grief for the father you lost, the father you needed, the relationship that never felt safe, the child you are longing for, the pregnancy that ended too soon, the version of parenthood that has not arrived yet, or the family story that looks different than you hoped.

And for some, it is a day of quiet tenderness — for partners who showed up through appointments, injections, losses, waiting rooms, hard phone calls, and the ache of not knowing what would happen next.

If today feels easy, I hope you enjoy it fully.

If today feels tender, I hope you give yourself permission to move gently.

If today brings grief, numbness, anger, gratitude, love, or some confusing mix of all of it — you are not doing it wrong.

Some days are allowed to be complicated.

Happy Father’s Day to the fathers, father figures, hopeful fathers, grieving fathers, and everyone carrying a tender story today.

06/21/2026

This week's journaling prompt: What am I carrying that no one else can see?

Oftentimes the things that we hold are invisible to others. It can be meaningful to acknowledge them, even if only on paper. Maybe it's the pain of a loss, the heaviness of moving forward without a guaranteed outcome, or the excruciating process of letting go of what you thought life would be like. The act of writing can be therapeutic-- a way to honor the things we are carrying that no one else sees.

06/19/2026

Creating this journal was a true labor of love. I poured my heart into each exercise, each reflection, and each piece of it.

I wrote it for the version of me who was trying to hold hope and heartbreak in the same body.

For the person sitting in the waiting room, refreshing the portal, calculating dates, bracing for phone calls, and trying to keep living a regular life while carrying something that felt anything but regular.

I wanted this journal to feel like a soft place to land. Not another place where you have to be positive, grateful, or “strong.” Not another thing asking you to fix your mindset or make meaning before you’re ready.

Just a place to tell the truth.

The messy truth.
The tender truth.
The angry, hopeful, exhausted, beautiful truth.

My hope is that this journal helps people feel a little less alone in a process that can be so deeply isolating.

Hard & Beautiful Things is available now on Amazon ---> 🔗 Link in Bio 🔗

06/16/2026

Grief is it's own thing. It does not always come with tears, or even sadness. It shows up at inconvenient times. It can look like irritability, numbness, disconnection, or even anxiety. If grief is present for you today, I hope that you can recognize it, acknowledge it and allow yourself to feel it.