We talk endlessly about birth, but not enough about what it takes to get there or how often it does not happen at all.
Miscarriage. Infertility. IVF. Words loaded with pain, silence, and expectation. Words that too many women carry quietly, especially in moments that demand more space and less shame.
According to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, miscarriage occurs in about 10% of known pregnancies, and experts suggest the real number is likely much higher. Many women miscarry before they even know they are pregnant. And yet, we rarely hear about it until someone famous decides to speak up.
Emma Grede, co-founder of Good American and founding partner of SKIMS, did exactly that on The Diary of a CEO podcast with Steven Bartlett. She spoke openly and unflinchingly about her experience with IVF and multiple miscarriages in her late thirties.
“I went through so many rounds… needles, hormones, disappointments,” she said. “And no one really prepares you for the silence of miscarriage. Everyone around you just kind of freezes. You’re left with grief and no language.”
Those words, “grief and no language,” speak to what many women feel: a hollow space between life imagined and life lost. IVF and miscarriage often unfold in waiting rooms and behind closed doors. For women at the height of their careers or public visibility, the emotional dissonance can be even more intense.
Just this week, Montreal-based influencer Vanessa Grimaldi posted on Instagram that she is going through her second miscarriage. Her message was brief, but devastating: a quiet admission of something so personal, yet painfully common.
Many women who experience miscarriage or fertility challenges find that the world around them falls uncomfortably quiet. Friends may not know what to say. Some offer clichés. Others offer silence. What is most needed is space: space to grieve, space to talk, and space to feel without shame.
But space is exactly what is needed. Because the more we speak about miscarriage and IVF, the more we normalize the experience. Not as a failure, but as part of the complicated, painful, human side of trying to create life.
This is not about turning grief into content. It is about refusing to let women shoulder it alone. These stories matter. Not after the rainbow baby or the happy ending, but right now, in the middle of the storm.
Let’s make room for those voices. With empathy, with courage, and without judgment. And let’s remember, you do not need to have gone through it yourself to stand beside someone who has. There is no failure in miscarriage. No shame in IVF. Just a human experience that deserves to be acknowledged.
