“Maybe This will be My Year: Navigating a New Year with Pregnancy Loss and Fertility Struggles.”
Every January, the phrase returns: This will be my year.
For many, it sounds hopeful. For those carrying infertility, pregnancy loss, or birth trauma, it often lands differently, as pressure instead of possibility.
Trauma changes how the body relates to time and the future. After reproductive or perinatal trauma, the nervous system isn’t oriented toward “what’s next,” it’s oriented toward what’s safe. So when someone says, “this will be my year,” a traumatized body may hear: Don’t fail again. Don’t hope too hard. Fix what happened. Hurry up. Can you feel the weight of all of that just reading it, never mind if we were actually carrying it.
Instead of excitement, the body often responds with vigilance, tightening, and quiet grief. It can feel the expectations and pressures placed on it and goes on guard to protect you.
One impact of trauma is a foreshortened sense of the future; what this means is that imagining ahead can feel emotionally risky after plans and expectations have already been shattered. This isn’t pessimism; it’s protection. Trauma doesn’t erase hope; it changes its posture. It teaches hope to move more carefully. And as we know, hope after pregnancy loss and fertility struggles can feel almost impossible or slightly out of reach.
The problem with declaring a year is that bodies don’t heal on timelines. Pregnancies don’t obey affirmations. And trauma doesn’t reset on January 1st. If only it were that easy. When the year is framed as something you must conquer, people often internalize failure when life stays complicated.
You don’t need a better year. You need a safer one. And I get why we feel the need to rush into the joyful moments, to finally get there, and after years of working in the field, and personal experience, I know that safety is the foundation that gets us there. We need time and permission to grieve, to sit with the pain that comes with every time we hoped and our hearts did not get what they ache for.
Healing after reproductive and perinatal trauma is less about transformation and more about stabilization. That looks like building regulation, agency, and capacity before expectation. Instead of asking, " Will this be my year, a trauma-informed question sounds more like, “What would help my body feel safer this year?”
Sometimes that looks like quieter intentions:
Rest without apology.
Say no to triggering spaces.
Let grief coexist with forward movement.
Take small, honest steps instead of perfect ones.
Sometimes adjusting our language really does help, so if “This will be my year” feels too sharp, try something gentler:
This will be a year of listening to my body.
This will be a year of building safety, not pressure.
This will be a year where healing doesn’t have to perform.
And if you’re not ready to name the year at all, that’s okay too. You don’t have to be hopeful to be moving forward. Sometimes the bravest orientation after trauma is simply, I’m still here, and I’m allowed to move slowly.
Not a perfect year.
Not a productive year.
But a more self-compassionate one.
Written by: Dr. Teela Tomassetti (PSYD)- Teela offers support across Canada and specializes in birth trauma, pregnancy loss and fertility struggles
What Every Parent Needs to Know after Pregnancy and Infant Loss
What Every Parent Needs to Know after Pregnancy and Infant Loss
Pregnancy and infant loss is one of the most devastating experiences a parent can endure. It’s a loss that is often invisible to the outside world, yet it reshapes everything inside of you. Whether it happens early in pregnancy or after birth, the grief that follows is real, valid, and life-altering. If you’re walking through this right now, or supporting someone who is, here are some things every parent navigating this should know.
Your grief is real, and it matters.
It doesn’t matter how far along you were or how others perceive your loss. Love begins the moment you imagine your baby, and so does grief when that life is gone. Many parents minimize their pain or compare themselves to others, because they didn’t get to hold their baby or because “it wasn’t as far along.” None of that changes the depth of your loss.
There is no timeline for healing.
Some days, you may feel like you can breathe again, and on other days, it may feel like the loss just happened. Grief isn’t linear, and society often offers misconceptions about it, as well as expectations on how someone should be “over it” by a specific time. Grief doesn’t work that way, it comes in waves. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting; it means learning to carry your loss alongside life, moving forward. Give yourself permission to take the time you need, not the time others expect.
Your body may carry reminders.
Pregnancy and infant loss isn’t only emotional, it’s physical. Hormonal changes, postpartum symptoms, milk production, and medical procedures can all amplify the pain. Be gentle with yourself. Your body is not failing you, it has carried love, and now it is navigating an ending it was never supposed to endure.The traumatic aspect of the experience is also taking a toll on your body impacting areas of the brain that are really important for our functioning each day are either on high alert now due to the loss or shutting down.
You are not alone, even if it feels like it.
One in four pregnancies ends in loss, yet many parents feel silenced by stigma and isolation. Sharing your story, hen you are ready and with safe people, can connect you to others who understand. Support groups, online communities, or even one trusted friend can remind you that your grief does not have to be carried alone.
Relationships may change.
Grief affects everyone differently, and that can be really difficult to understand when we are in the thick of it. You and your partner may grieve in opposite ways, one needing to talk, the other needing silence. Friends or family may not know what to say. Some may avoid you out of discomfort. This can feel like a second loss, or what we call in psychology, secondary losses. Surround yourself with people who can hold space for your grief without judgment or pressure.
It’s okay to hold both love and pain.
The constant push and pull of opposing emotions is exhausting. You may feel joy when you see a friend’s baby and devastation in the same breath. You may smile one moment and sob the next. This duality is part of grieving a child and is complex. Love for your baby will always live alongside the ache of their absence. Both are true, and both are allowed to take up space.
Remembering your baby is healing.
Naming your baby, creating rituals, keeping mementos, writing letters, planting a tree, all of these acts of remembrance are not signs of being “stuck.” They are sacred ways of honouring your child’s existence and keeping their memory alive in your family story. Inviting others into that experience can also be helpful.
Professional support can help.
Loss at this level shakes your nervous system, your identity, and your sense of safety. Therapy, support groups, and trauma-informed care can help you navigate not only the grief but also the anxiety, guilt, or depression that may follow. Reaching for help is not a weakness; it is part of how you survive this.
It’s okay if Hope feels Fragile.
In the depths of loss, hope may feel impossible. Many around you may have the expectation of you to move on, or to express gratitude or hope. You don’t have to. You are allowed to approach hope with caution; you are allowed to feel like it is an emotion that feels far away. The more we create space to understand hope’s fragility, the more likely we are to experience it truly again.
One more thought…
Your baby mattered. Your grief matters. And you deserve support as you navigate this heartbreaking path.
If you’re reading this in the rawness of fresh loss, know this: you are not broken. You are a parent, forever connected to the baby you love. And though this journey is unbearably heavy, you do not have to walk it alone.
Written by: Dr. Teela Tomassetti (PsyD)- Registered Provisional Psychologist, Perinatal Researcher and the Founder of RPTC. Teela is passionate about supporting birth trauma survivors and loss parents, as well as those struggling with fertility. Stay tuned for groups and workshops being offered by her in these areas. You can find her @theteaonbirthtrauma.