Because Sometimes the Strongest Thing You Can Do Is Admit: “I Don’t Want to Go.”
Let’s be honest for a second—baby showers can be emotional war zones when you’re on a fertility journey.
You get the invite.
You open the group chat.
You scroll past the theme: “Tutus or Touchdowns?”
And before you can type “Congrats, mama! ” your chest is already tightening.
You feel it creeping in—jealousy that she got pregnant with ease, sadness that your journey is so different, rage that the universe seems unfair, and a heavy dose of guilt for feeling any of it.
But you keep smiling.
Because that’s what we do, right?
Well… not anymore.
This year—2025—we’re taking the masks off.
We’re talking about the mental health cost of baby showers when you’re struggling with fertility.
Because, sis, you deserve emotional honesty as much as you deserve your future baby.
The Unspoken Storm Behind the Gift Bag
Let me paint the scene.
You’re walking into the hall—balloons everywhere, cake shaped like a diaper, someone’s auntie is shouting “Fertility is contagious oh! Better rub belle today!”
You laugh. But deep down, your stomach is in knots.
Because while people are passing around baby bottles filled with juice, you’re silently calculating how many ovulations tests you’ve peed on this month.
Your friend is glowing. You’re crumbling.
And you feel like a terrible person for it.
Sound familiar?
You’re not alone.
Why Baby Showers Can Trigger a Mental Health Spiral
Here’s what we need to say out loud (with no shame): Baby showers can be painful for women going through infertility, TTC struggles, or pregnancy loss.
Why?
Because they’re not just parties—they’re emotional landmines. Each balloon, each game, each gift can unintentionally spotlight:
- The pregnancy you hoped to announce this year
- The IVF cycle that failed
- The baby you lost
- The timeline that keeps shifting
- The fear that it may never happen
It’s not jealousy out of bitterness. It’s grief. It’s longing. It’s your heart saying, “That was supposed to be me by now.”
And the emotional gymnastics it takes to show up smiling? Exhausting.
But She is a Friend. Shouldn’t I Be Happy for Her?
Of course. And you probably are.
But joy for her can coexist with sorrow for yourself.
Let me say that again for the woman in the back:
You can be happy for her and heartbroken for yourself at the same time.
You are not petty. You are not selfish. You are not being dramatic.
You are navigating a trauma in real time. And that’s messy.
Your mental health matters. So does your healing. That means giving yourself permission to:
- Skip the shower
- Leave early
- Cry afterward
- Journal your anger
- Speak honestly with someone who gets it
Bola’s Breakdown—and Her Breakthrough
Let me introduce you to Bola, 37.
She got a baby shower invite from her cousin. They grew up like sisters.
But Bola was four months post-miscarriage and deep into her second round of IVF. Her nerves were shot. Her smile was worn thin.
She called me and whispered, “Sis, I want to be there. But I don’t think I’ll survive it.”
So we worked out a plan.
She sent her gift early. Wrote a heartfelt note.
Then took that day off for herself—a massage, a nap, and a therapy session.
Guess what?
Her cousin understood. And Bola felt empowered for the first time in a long time.
Permission to Protect Your Peace
Let’s make one thing clear: You are not obligated to attend any event that puts your mental health in danger.
Not even for family.
Not even for church.
Not even for that friend who showed up for your birthday in 2006.
Here’s a revolutionary thought for 2025:
You are allowed to say, “This is too much for me right now.”
And if people don’t understand? That’s okay. You are not here to manage other people’s comfort at the expense of your sanity.
Your healing requires boundaries.
How to Cope (If You Do Choose to Go)
Now, if you’re the kind of person who wants to show up—but knows it’ll be hard—here are some survival tips:
- Prep Your Mind Before the Day
Affirm yourself. Meditate. Say, “I can feel what I feel without shame.” - Bring a Friend Who Gets It
Even if they’re just there for the car ride home, having someone who knows helps a lot. - Have an Exit Strategy
Plan your “oh no, I have to run” excuse ahead. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. - Journal the Feelings Afterward
Don’t let them fester. Process the pain. Give your emotions room to breathe.
You Deserve to Be Seen Too
While everyone is celebrating someone else’s miracle, it can feel like your story is invisible.
But sis—you are not forgotten.
Just because your baby hasn’t arrived yet doesn’t mean your motherhood dreams are any less valid.
Just because you’re in the waiting room doesn’t mean your joy isn’t coming.
You matter, right here, right now.
Even in the ache.
Even in the jealousy.
Even when you can’t clap for others without crying later.
You are still whole. Still worthy. Still enough.
Baby Showers Don’t Define You
We live in a culture that centres women’s value around motherhood. And when it feels like everyone is moving forward while you’re stuck in a loop, it can make you question your worth.
But let me remind you:
You are not a failure.
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are on a journey that takes more strength, courage, and resilience than most people will ever understand.
And if this blog feels like it’s reading your mind—it’s because you’re not alone.
We’ve been there.
We see you.
And we’re walking this road with you.
In Case No One Else Told You
If all you did today was protect your peace—that’s enough.
If all you did was cry in the car after the shower—that’s enough.
If all you did was say “not today”—that’s more than enough.
This year, we’re not bottling up pain to be polite.
We’re honouring our grief, our triggers, and our growth.
So, whether you RSVP “yes,” “no,” or “I’ll think about it”—know this:
You are loved. You are seen. And one day, your shower will come.
And when it does, we’ll be there, throwing confetti with both hands.
