Delayed Dreams – The Quiet Grief of the Woman Who Waited Too Long
- Brainz Magazine
- Oct 8
- 8 min read
Constanza is a psychologist specializing in reproductive health and fertility and the founder of Rudaviva. She is passionate about supporting women in connecting with their bodies and cycles, empowering them to cultivate holistic well-being through education and practical tools.
There is a particular kind of grief that doesn’t always come with tears. It’s quiet. Lingering. Often unspoken. It doesn’t mark a loss that others can see, but it settles in the body like a weight, the grief of the woman who waited.
For many women, their 30s and 40s are filled with achievements. Promotions, degrees, recognition. The long hours, the late nights, the sacrifices. It all led somewhere. But then comes a moment, sometimes while staring at a calendar, other times in the silence of a Sunday afternoon, when a different kind of question surfaces, "Did I wait too long?"
This article is not about regret. It’s about naming a truth that many ambitious, brilliant women carry quietly, that the path to success often asks them to delay or disconnect from their fertility. And sometimes, when they’re finally “ready,” the body says otherwise, or the dream no longer feels as accessible.
In the following sections, we’ll explore the silent grief that often accompanies postponed motherhood, the workplace systems that inadvertently reinforce it, and the emotional reckoning many women face in the process. Because when we talk about success, we must also be willing to talk about the sacrifices that come with it.
1. Success came first, and so did the silence
From a young age, many women are told they can be anything. Astronauts, CEOs, scientists, changemakers. And we believed it, because it’s true. But what often goes unsaid is the hidden cost of that path, that our bodies operate on a different timeline than our careers.
In the pursuit of excellence, many women are praised for their focus, their drive, their independence. They’re celebrated for not being “distracted” by things like relationships or family. Fertility, in that context, becomes something to be managed or ignored, something for later.
But what happens when later becomes now? When the conference rooms are filled, the LinkedIn profile shines, and yet a quiet ache begins to surface? That ache doesn’t mean something went wrong, it means something deeply human is asking to be acknowledged.
And still, many women don’t feel they have permission to grieve. Because how do you mourn something that didn’t happen? How do you explain that the success everyone applauds came at the cost of a door that now feels partially closed?
2. When workplaces are not fertile ground
Despite the progress made in gender equity, most professional environments still operate under models designed for linear, uninterrupted trajectories. Long hours, late meetings, and constant availability are framed as markers of “commitment.” But these aren’t indicators of sustainability, let alone of fertility.
While some companies now include fertility-related benefits in their wellness offerings, these tend to focus on assisted reproductive technologies (ART) like egg freezing or IVF. These options, while valuable, often reflect a system that assumes fertility can be postponed until a woman is finally “ready,” when her title, bank account, and schedule align. But natural fertility doesn’t work on corporate timelines. It needs rest, emotional safety, and hormonal balance, conditions that most work cultures fail to support.
A woman’s fertility is not a switch she can flip once she’s climbed high enough on the career ladder. As Lara Briden reminds us, it’s a delicate, cyclical process, highly responsive to chronic stress, poor sleep, nutrient deficiencies, environmental toxins, and emotional burnout. These aren’t fringe concerns or niche wellness trends, they are deeply rooted physiological realities. And yet, most workplaces continue to ignore them, operating as if fertility can simply wait.
Fertility, when nurtured naturally, reflects a state of internal coherence. But how can women access that when their environments reward only constant output and disconnection from their own rhythms?
Worse still are the biases that follow motherhood. A woman returning from maternity leave is often perceived as “less committed,” “less available,” or “less ambitious.” This isn’t just anecdotal. A 2024 study published by the National Library of Medicine found that mothers are routinely passed over for promotions, scrutinized more harshly, and given less visible or impactful tasks—despite having the same qualifications as their peers.
These structural barriers don’t just delay fertility, they distort it. They turn a deeply personal and embodied experience into something women must hide, postpone, or recover from. And when a woman finally chooses to listen to her body, she may discover that what she needed all along was time and support she was never allowed to have.
And even when motherhood happens, the support often ends at the birth.
Lactation, an essential part of postpartum health and bonding, is rarely treated as a legitimate physiological need in most workspaces. When there’s no time, space, or cultural permission to breastfeed or pump, women are forced to choose between their professional identity and their ability to nourish a child.
The message is clear, you can become a mother, but don’t let it show.
3. The grief no one talks about
There is a particular kind of grief that lives in silence, the kind that doesn’t come from loss, but from delay. From the years spent climbing ladders, hitting milestones, and ticking boxes. From the decades of being told, not yet, not now, maybe later.
For many women, the decision to postpone motherhood wasn’t really a decision at all, it was the result of systemic messaging that success must come first. That there is a “right” time to become a mother, and that time is always just out of reach.
But biology is not bound by ambition.
And so, when a woman finally feels emotionally ready, she may discover that her body is not. This is not just about infertility.
It’s about the emotional weight of having postponed something deeply longed for. It’s about the quiet ache of what could have been, relationships that didn’t align, jobs that demanded too much, and environments that celebrated her output but never held space for her dreams.
The grief of delayed motherhood is rarely validated. There’s no ritual, no diagnosis, no leave of absence. It shows up quietly, in baby showers that sting more than they should, in birthdays that feel like deadlines, in the well-meaning comment that lands like a punch, “You still have time.”
And beneath all that grief, there’s something deeper still, disconnection. We’ve been taught to ignore the whispers of our own fertility. We measure its worth only through its ability to produce, to deliver, to result in something tangible. But fertility is also a language, one that speaks of timing, intuition, energy, desire, and rhythm.
Many of us have never been given the chance to listen.
So we grieve not just what didn’t happen, we grieve that we never had the space to truly know ourselves through our own cycles. Through the wisdom of our bodies. Through the subtle truths that fertility reveals when we’re not too busy, too stressed, or too scared to hear them.
4. Redefining fertility as a language of connection
Fertility has been reduced, time and again, to a binary, either you can have children or you can’t. But that’s not the full story. Not even close.
Fertility is not just about ovaries and ovulation, it’s a reflection of how we live, how we relate to our bodies, how we connect with the world around us. It’s a mirror of our internal coherence, our stress levels, our nourishment, our boundaries, and our sense of safety. It speaks a language that most of us were never taught to hear.
When we begin to redefine fertility, not as a function but as a feedback system, everything shifts. We start to notice how our bodies respond to environments, relationships, and habits. We become more attuned to what energizes us and what drains us. We realize that our hormonal rhythms are not obstacles to productivity, but roadmaps to a more sustainable way of living and leading.
This reframing is not just helpful for women who want to conceive, it’s vital for any woman who wants to feel more rooted in her body and more honest in her choices.
And perhaps most importantly, this redefinition brings compassion.
Because instead of blaming our bodies for not “performing,” we begin to understand what they’ve been holding.
What they’ve endured. What they’ve been trying to say all along. Fertility, in this broader sense, becomes a pathway back to ourselves. A gentle invitation to soften, to listen, to reconnect.
That triggers feelings of imposter syndrome for you. Understanding your triggers can help you develop coping strategies and minimize their impact on your self-confidence. Whether it’s receiving critical feedback, comparing yourself to others, or facing new challenges, pay attention to the situations that bring up feelings of self-doubt. Once you recognize your triggers, you can work on reframing your thoughts and building resilience against them.
5. The quiet grief we don’t name
Not all grief is loud. Sometimes, it lives quietly beneath the surface, in the pause after a milestone, in the moment of reflection when everything seems to be “in place” except for one lingering ache. For many women in their late 30s or early 40s, this grief isn’t rooted in regret, but in the subtle realization that they were never truly given space to choose freely. It’s not just about the absence of a child, it’s about the absence of time, of understanding, of support to fully explore the question of motherhood on their own terms.
This grief often stems from internalized beliefs that fertility is a threat to ambition, a logistical challenge to be managed or delayed. It shows up when we realize that, while we were busy building something meaningful in the external world, no one helped us preserve our internal rhythms, our hormonal vitality, our emotional readiness, our cyclical wisdom. We were told we could “have it all,” but we weren’t given the structures to support all of who we are.
And because this kind of loss isn’t always recognized or spoken about, it becomes harder to grieve. But naming it, allowing ourselves to acknowledge the grief of what wasn’t possible, can be the first step toward healing. From that place, we begin to reconnect. We remember that fertility is not just a biological capacity, but a mirror of our inner life. And that power, success, and choice can be redefined, on our terms.
You are not late
If you’re reading this and feel a quiet tug inside, a heaviness in your chest, a deep exhale, or even a tear you weren’t expecting, know this, you are not alone. And you are not late.
There’s grief in the stories we were never allowed to live. But there’s also power in reclaiming our rhythms, our choices, and our bodies, no matter where we are in our journey.
Fertility is not just about reproduction. It’s a reflection of how we live, how we nourish ourselves, how we allow rest, how we hold space for our longing. It’s never too late to begin listening.
If this resonates with you, I invite you to explore more with me. I write about fertility, cyclical living, and emotional well-being in my newsletter (in Spanish), offering tools and reflections for women who want to reconnect with themselves. You can also find me on Instagram, where I share real stories, gentle guidance, and community for women navigating these deep transitions.
Let’s keep this conversation going, because your story matters.
Read more from Constanza Araujo Nagore
Constanza Araujo Nagore, Specialist in Psychology and Reproductive Health
Constanza is a psychologist specializing in reproductive health and fertility awareness methods and the founder of Rudaviva. She enjoys helping women connect with their cycles and bodies through education, fostering holistic well-being and self-awareness. Her mission is to empower women to embrace their natural rhythms and cultivate meaningful relationships with themselves and their health. Constanza inspires transformative journeys toward physical and emotional balance through workshops, personalized guidance, and innovative resources.
