“Someone I love sounds like they’re about to give up trying to have a baby. They’re making comments like, ‘If this doesn’t happen soon, I’m done.’ I know how hard things can get… what can I do to encourage them?”

This is one of the most tender and sometimes challenging moments in loving someone well when they’re facing infertility or complex family-building. When we hear those “I’m done” comments, our instinct is often to jump in with encouragement, solutions, silver linings, or a pep talk. We want to lift them up, help them “see the bright side,” remind them of what they still have.

But sometimes, the most powerful support we can offer is much quieter: to sit with someone in their pain without trying to fix it.

Sitting With Pain

It’s natural to want to ease someone’s suffering or redirect it back to hope. Even when you’re intentions are pure, when a loved one expresses hopelessness about their plans for parenthood, quick reassurance or immediate solutions can unintentionally make them feel unseen or dismissed.

Instead, try this first: presence.
Listen deeply. Let them feel what they feel without rushing them out of it. Remind them (explicitly) that their pain doesn’t scare you off.

Sample language:

• “I can hear how heavy this feels right now.”

• “You don’t have to be positive for me. I’m here for all of it.”

• “It makes sense that you’re exhausted.”

• “I’m not going anywhere.”

Encouragement Without Toxic Positivity

There’s a difference between offering hope and pushing positivity. Avoid phrases like “everything happens for a reason,” “just stay positive,” or “it could be worse.” Even when meant kindly, those can land like: you’re being too much.

Instead, validate what’s real and gently widen the frame—without forcing them to feel better.

Sample language:

• “I don’t want to talk you out of how you feel. I want to understand it.”

• “Hope doesn’t have to mean feeling good. Sometimes hope is just making it through today… even through the next hour.”

• “We don’t have to solve everything right now. I’m here with you in it.”

• “If you want, we can take this one tiny step at a time.”

Showing Up Without Overstepping

Your presence matters, even when you don’t have answers. Check in gently, respect their boundaries, and let them set the pace. Some people want to talk a lot. Others want distraction. Others want quiet companionship. The goal isn’t to do it “right,” it’s to stay connected without making them manage your feelings about their pain.

Sample language:

• “I’m thinking of you. Want to talk, vent, or be distracted?”

• “No pressure to respond—I just wanted you to know I’m here.”

• “Would it help if I sat with you, or would you rather have space today?”

• “Do you want advice, or do you want company?”

Some loved ones will want to stay closely connected. Others may need distance. If they start pulling away, you can keep the door open without guilt-tripping them:

• “I’m still here if you want to reconnect. And I completely understand if you need space right now.”

Honor whatever they choose. Just let them know you’re keeping the light on for them.

Recognizing Signs of Deeper Struggles

You are not your loved one’s therapist, and it shouldn’t all be on you to hold this. If their hopelessness feels intense, persistent, or scary…or if they mention self-harm or not wanting to be alive, it’s important to encourage additional support right away.

Sample language:

• “I care about you so much, and I’m feeling worried about how alone this feels for you.”

• “Would you be open to talking to a professional about some of this?”

• “I can help you find someone, or I can sit with you while you make the call.”

If you believe they may be in immediate danger, it’s okay to treat it as urgent and get help right away. You can stay with them and get help right away.

In Conclusion

Jewish tradition teaches us to be with others in suffering. A connection I’m always reminded of what that looks like is when we sit shiva and offer nichum aveilim (nee-KHOOM ah-vay-LEEM, “comforting mourners”). The wisdom there is simple and profound: in moments of grief, loss, or deep struggle, the greatest mitzvah can be showing up. We can do so much by joining alongside someone in pain with our heart open, steady, and willing to hold space without trying to rush pain into a happier shape.

Sometimes love doesn’t sound like a solution.
Sometimes love sounds like: “I’m here. I’m staying. You don’t have to carry this alone.”