When Someone Else’s Joy Feels Like a Knife to the Heart

You see the photo. The ultrasound. The smiling couple or person holding a onesie.

And before you can even stop it, your chest tightens, your stomach drops, and your heart whispers:

“Why not me?”

Pregnancy announcements are everywhere. They pop up online, in conversations, and even in passing comments. While these announcements often aim to share joy, they can feel like tiny heartbreaks scattered through your feed, especially if you’re trying to conceive after a long time or have experienced loss.

I’ve been there.

There were months when I had to pull away from social media, friends, and family entirely. I asked close friends to please tell me first, privately, before posting. This way, I could prepare emotionally. I needed space to breathe, cry, and feel...without having to perform happiness on cue.

The Emotional Whiplash of Wanting to Be Happy, But Feeling Anything But

Maybe you are happy for them…deep down. But also? You’re hurting. You're tired. You’re grieving.

It’s a strange emotional split. You feel joy for someone else while also feeling crushed by your own unmet longing. When that joy arrives in a surprise post or an unexpected announcement, it can knock the wind out of you.

If you've ever felt this way and immediately judged yourself for it, this post is for you.

You’re Not a Bad Person for Feeling This Way

Let me say this as clearly as I can:

You are not a bad friend. You are not bitter. You are not unkind. You are grieving.

Grief is messy. It doesn’t follow polite timelines. It doesn’t wait for a safe space to express itself. It just shows up.

Sometimes that looks like quiet tears. Sometimes it looks like anger. And sometimes it looks like resentment…yes, even toward someone you love.

Resentment doesn’t cancel out your compassion. It doesn’t mean you’re not happy for them. It just means you’re still hoping for yourself, and that hope has been worn raw.

Why Pregnancy Announcements Trigger So Much Pain

If you’ve ever wondered, “Why does this hit me so hard?”, you’re not alone. The pain that follows a pregnancy announcement isn’t just about the news. It’s about everything that comes with it.

It’s a reminder of what hasn’t happened for you. Of the waiting. The trying. The losses. The uncertainty. It shines a bright, often unexpected light on your pain, and that can feel overwhelming.

Hope Deferred and the Pain of Comparison

When you're in the midst of trying, especially if it's been a long, emotional road, each new announcement can feel like another reminder that someone else is living the life you’ve been fighting for.

It’s not that you want them to suffer. It’s that you want your turn. When it hasn’t come, and someone else gets there first (again), it feels like your hope gets shoved further down the line.

Comparison is cruel like that. It tricks your brain into thinking there’s a race. Someone else’s win means your delay. Even when you know logically that’s not true, emotionally, it still stings.

Loss, Infertility, and the Grief That Lingers

For those who’ve experienced miscarriage, infertility, or pregnancy loss, announcements often bring up grief that hasn’t been fully processed, or maybe never will be.

They don’t just remind you of what you don’t have. They remind you of what you did have… and lost. Or what almost was.

That grief sits just under the surface, and announcements can pull it up without warning. A part of your heart whispers, “That could have been me.”

As a Fertility & Loss Doula, I see this pain often. I’ve felt it myself. I want you to know: it’s valid. Whether your loss was recent or years ago. Whether you’re navigating primary or secondary infertility. Whether you’ve never been pregnant or have been through multiple losses.

Your grief deserves space.

The Suddenness of the Announcement vs. the Slowness of TTC

There’s a strange dissonance between how quickly announcements seem to appear and how slow, painful, and drawn-out trying to conceive (TTC) can be.

One day, someone posts: “We’re pregnant!” And your heart drops.

Because you’ve been in the trenches. Charting. Tracking. Testing. Hoping. Waiting. Maybe for months. Maybe for years.

The contrast is jarring. Their news is fast and exciting. Your reality feels like slow, silent survival. Sometimes, that contrast is too much to process in the moment.

The Guilt That Follows the Resentment

"Why Can’t I Just Be Happy for Her?”

That question, the one you whisper to yourself after reacting, isn’t just guilt talking. It’s love twisted up with grief.

You do want to be happy for them. Maybe a part of you genuinely is. But another part of you, maybe a louder part right now, is hurting so deeply that there’s no space for celebration yet.

Both things can be true. You are allowed to feel both without trying to edit yourself into someone more “gracious” or “supportive.”

You don’t owe anyone a public performance of peace.

When You Feel Like a Terrible Friend, Sister, or Human

This feeling? That deep ache that makes you want to avoid baby showers or not text back right away, it doesn’t make you a bad person.

It makes you human.

If your inner critic is shouting, “You should be more supportive,” remind yourself: you can’t pour from an empty cup. You get to protect your heart while you’re still healing.

The Internal Battle Between Joy and Jealousy

Jealousy isn’t always the green-eyed monster people make it out to be. Sometimes, it’s just unspoken grief wearing different clothes.

You’re not envious because you’re cruel. You’re envious because you’re still waiting for your yes. Every “yes” around you reminds you that yours hasn’t arrived.

That conflict inside you, where joy and longing collide? It doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you still care.

Navigating Pregnancy Announcements in Real Life and Online

Instagram Triggers: Muting Without Guilt

There is zero shame in muting accounts, snoozing stories, or stepping away from social media altogether.

You’re not being petty, you’re being protective. Your nervous system wasn’t built to handle back-to-back ultrasounds, bump photos, and gender reveals while trying to conceive or grieving a loss.

You can love someone and still need distance from their content.

What to Do When Friends or Family Announce Unexpectedly

Not everyone will give you a heads-up, and that sucks. When announcements hit you out of nowhere, try to ground yourself:

• Take a deep breath.

• Put your phone down.

• Name what you’re feeling without judgment.

  
  

If you have friends or loved ones who do know your journey, it’s okay to ask for what you need:

“Hey, would you mind giving me a heads-up in private before you post anything publicly? Just so I can take care of myself emotionally?”

That’s a boundary, not a burden.

Creating Emotional Boundaries Without Cutting People Off

Boundaries don’t have to be brick walls. They can be soft pauses, gentle filters, or honest conversations.

Try:

• “I love you and I’m happy for you. I just might need some space to process.”

• “I want to support you, but I might not be able to show up in the way I wish I could right now.”

  
  

You’re allowed to protect your peace without guilt-tripping yourself.

What to Say (or Not Say) When You Can’t Emotionally Engage

Scripts and Supportive Boundaries

If you want to respond but don’t have the emotional bandwidth, keep it simple:

• “Thank you for letting me know. Sending love your way.”

• “I’m processing some feelings right now, but I’m grateful you shared with me first.”

• “I care about you and I’m happy for you, even if I’m quiet.”

  
  

No explanation required. Just honesty with compassion, for them and for you.

Letting Go of the Pressure to Perform Happiness

You’re not on stage. This isn’t a test.

If you don’t feel joy in this moment, you don’t have to fake it. Your feelings don’t make you dramatic or difficult. They make you honest.

And being honest is a form of healing.

Supporting Yourself First: You Deserve to Be Held Too

You Can Be Both Happy for Them and Sad for Yourself

One doesn’t cancel the other. Your sadness doesn’t dull their joy, and their joy doesn’t invalidate your pain.

You’re just walking different timelines.

You can honour both realities with grace and boundaries.

Making Space for Your Own Experience

Grief and disappointment need room to breathe. Journaling, therapy, or even voice-noting yourself can help get the swirl of feelings out of your body.

If you’re neurodivergent (hi, ADHD/Autistic fam), traditional grounding tools like yoga or breathwork might not cut it. So try:

• Swimming

• Walking outside

• Painting, doodling, or messy crafts

• Music that matches your mood

• Tactile things like clay, slime, or warm tea

• Petting your cat or dog

  
  

Support doesn’t have to look serene; it just has to feel soothing.

How a Fertility Doula Can Support You Emotionally Through These Moments

As someone who’s walked this path myself, years of TTC, infertility treatments, and the grief of being told “less than 2%”, I see you. I support people just like you through these moments all the time.

With me as your doula, you're not just getting fertility tips or charting help. You're getting emotional space to feel what’s coming up, and a soft landing place to be heard without fixing or minimizing.

Contracted clients also get access to a private portal of resources to navigate everything from cycles and supplements to emotional tools and grief support.

You don't have to carry this alone.

What If It’s Your Best Friend, Sister, or Someone Close?

The Unique Pain of Comparison in Close Relationships

It hits differently when the person you love most gets the thing you want most.

You want to celebrate with them. But your heart’s in pieces. That conflict can feel unbearable and guilt-inducing.

This is where honest connection matters most. You can say something like:

“I love you so much and I’m so happy for you. I’m also in a tender place right now, so I might be a little quiet but I’m still here.”

That’s a bridge. The people who truly love you? They’ll meet you halfway.

How to Show Up in a Way That Honours Both of You

It’s okay if your presence looks different right now. Maybe it’s sending a care package, a text, or a voice memo when you’re ready.

Support doesn’t have to be loud or performative. You’re allowed to center yourself without erasing your love for them.

You Are Not a Bad Person, You Are a Grieving One

Resentment Is a Sign You’re Still Hoping

You haven’t given up.

That quiet ache in your chest, the pit in your stomach when you see another pregnancy post, it’s because you’re still dreaming.

And that’s brave.

There’s Room for Your Feelings. All of Them

Not just the polished ones. Not just the “grateful” or “happy for her” ones. But the raw, honest, shadowy ones too. The ones that say:

• “I want that too.”

• “I’m exhausted.”

• “I feel left behind.”

  
  

Your feelings don’t make you weak. They make you real.

Let’s Stop Pretending This Isn’t Real

These moments are hard.

They’re not just “triggers.” They’re reminders of grief, of waiting, of the stories we’re still hoping to write.

You’re allowed to feel what you feel. You’re allowed to take space, ask for care, and move through this season without pretending everything’s okay.

If you need someone to hold space for you, I’m here. Not just as a doula, but as someone who’s been there, too.

Want to talk more about fertility support or just need a space to exhale? You can reach out anytime. DM me on Instagram @embracingthejourney_yyc or book a consult at kat@embracingthejourney.ca.

You are not alone in this. And you are not broken. You're still hoping.