Written by Chuck Feerick, CEO of Latitude Health
Breaking the Silence: Infertility, Fatherhood, and the Power of Empathy
This week is National Infertility Awareness Week, and I want to share my story because it’s so important for us to speak up and normalize an issue that impacts people of all genders, families of all kinds, entire communities, and society at large.
My wife and I spent years trying to start a family. She was diagnosed with PCOS, and we experienced multiple miscarriages. Each loss carried its own kind of heartbreak. One of them was so severe, it led to a 2 a.m. ambulance ride to the hospital after my wife passed out on the floor of our bathroom writhing in pain with blood stains on the tile floors. That night still haunts me.
During our fertility journey we had moments where we were treated like just another chart—rushed appointments, tone-deaf advice from doctors telling us “don't worry, just have fun!” (this actually happened, not a joke). But later, through Kaiser Permanente, we found care that changed everything. Providers who actually listened. Clinical Teams who acknowledged our pain. Folks who reminded us that we were more than just a case and combined data with empathy to provide us personalized treatment.
Infertility and pregnancy loss are often invisible, private struggles. And while birthing parents carry the physical burden, the emotional impact touches both partners. Too often, men and non-birthing partners are taught to be strong and quiet—to show up for someone else while ignoring what’s happening inside themselves. Birthing parents too, as was the case with my wife, are praised for their resilience—expected to “move on from their pain” and go back to work or normal routines like nothing happened.
The day we got home from the hospital, my wife was already taking Zoom calls with a client. She was wrapped in a bathrobe, heat packs on her stomach, camera off because she said she was ‘just a bit under the weather.’
The truth is: we ALL need space to grieve. And we need space to talk about it, to feel it, and to support one another.
If you've gone through this or is going through it now—I want you to know you’re not alone. And you don’t have to carry it alone either.
Outside of being a father and husband, I’m also a founder in healthcare.
My family’s experience with infertility actually shaped how I lead today. It taught me that people go through a LOT outside of work—and that leadership means creating space for that reality.
It made me ask deeper questions:
Are we building workplaces that allow people to say, “I’m not okay”?
Do our benefits truly support those navigating infertility, loss, or treatment? At Latitude, we offer paid time-off for pregnancy loss
Are we normalizing conversations that help people feel seen and supported?
This is about more than policies. It’s about culture. It’s about empathy. And it’s about recognizing that showing care for your team—regardless of what they’re carrying—is not a nice-to-have. It’s essential.
If you’re in the midst of this kind of journey—grieving, hoping, trying, or healing—I see you.
And if you’re reading this and it resonates, please know, I’m here for you. If you need someone to talk to, a sounding board on how we navigated the care system, or just a quiet acknowledgment of what you’re going through—I’m here. Please feel free to reach out.
Let’s keep breaking the silence. Let’s keep building communities—at home, at work, in healthcare—that meet people with empathy, not judgment.
Because no one should have to walk this road alone.
#NIAW #InfertilityAwareness #MiscarriageAwareness #PCOSAwareness #MenAndInfertility #MentalHealth #Leadership #GriefInTheWorkplace #EmpathyInAction
