I never thought I would find myself this frustrated with someone I consider a friend, but lately I have been struggling to understand the choices she has made regarding her children. I am not trying to judge anyone for wanting another child or for going through IVF, because I understand that fertility treatment can be emotionally and physically exhausting. The situation I’m talking about is different because my friend already has children from a previous relationship, and she recently moved to another state with her new husband to pursue IVF while leaving those children behind. She talks about the treatment constantly, and whenever I hear about another appointment, medication, procedure, or setback, I try to be supportive. However, what bothers me is that her children aren’t simply staying with their father for a few days while she attends appointments. They are living in another state while she has started a completely new chapter of her life somewhere else. The more I think about it, the more uncomfortable I become, especially because she seems to expect everyone around her to treat the situation as though it is completely normal.

My friend has children from her previous relationship, and from everything I understand, they were living with her before she moved. She eventually married someone new, and the two of them decided that they wanted to have a baby together. When they began discussing IVF, the conversation apparently became centered around how difficult it would be to continue the treatment while caring for the children. Rather than putting the treatment on hold or finding a way to make the children part of their new household, she and her husband decided to move to another state. The children stayed behind with their father. She has explained that this arrangement makes sense financially and logistically, and she insists that the kids are safe and being cared for. I don’t disagree with that part. Their father is apparently a responsible parent, and I’m not suggesting that the children are being neglected. But there is a difference between children being safe and children feeling like their mother chose to move away from them. That distinction is what has been bothering me.

What makes this especially difficult for me is how often she talks about the IVF process. I have tried to be a supportive friend because I know she has been emotionally invested in having another child with her new husband. She talks about medications, appointments, hormone treatments, procedures, waiting periods, and the constant uncertainty involved in IVF. I understand that she needs people to talk to, and I don’t want to be the kind of friend who tells someone that their fertility struggles aren’t important. At the same time, I have started feeling overwhelmed because the topic comes up almost every day. I have even asked her politely if we could discuss her IVF journey a little less when we’re together. I wasn’t trying to shut her down or tell her that she couldn’t talk about it. I simply needed some balance. Unfortunately, I think I’m one of the few close friends she has, so even after asking her to keep the subject to a minimum, it still comes up constantly.

The strange part is that whenever she talks about IVF, she speaks about the future baby as though that child is the center of everything she and her husband are building together. She talks about what their life will look like, how excited her husband is, what kind of home they want, and how much they hope the treatment succeeds. I genuinely hope it works out for them. But whenever I hear her talking about all of this, I can’t help thinking about the children she already has. They aren’t hypothetical. They already exist. They have birthdays, school events, favorite foods, friends, routines, and memories with their mother. I find myself wondering what they think about their mother moving to another state and starting fertility treatment with her new husband while they remain behind. Maybe they understand the situation perfectly and are comfortable with it. Maybe they visit frequently. Maybe they talk to her every day. I don’t know all the details, which is part of why I have tried not to make assumptions. Still, from the outside, it feels incredibly complicated.

I’ve tried asking her about the children without sounding judgmental. She usually tells me that they are doing fine and that their father is happy to have them. She says they spend time together whenever possible and that moving doesn’t mean she abandoned them. According to her, she made the decision because she didn’t want to miss her chance to have another baby. She is worried that waiting too long could make IVF less successful, and she believes she needed to take the opportunity while she had it. I can understand why someone might feel that way. Fertility treatment can come with time pressure, emotional pressure, and significant financial costs. But I still struggle with the idea that pursuing one child required creating so much distance from the children she already had. Maybe there were circumstances I don’t know about, and I’m aware that friendships don’t give you access to every private detail of someone’s custody arrangement. Even so, it is difficult to hear someone repeatedly talk about how desperately they want another child while the children they already have are living somewhere else.

Eventually, some mutual friends started noticing the same thing. One friend made a comment about how strange it was that she seemed to have more conversations about the baby she hoped to have than about the children she already had. Another friend pointed out that her social media was filled with IVF updates, pictures with her new husband, and posts about building their new life. There were very few mentions of her older children. Nobody was suggesting that she should stop pursuing IVF, but people were uncomfortable with how the situation was being presented. My friend became defensive when she realized people were talking about it. She said everyone was judging her without understanding what she had been through. She also said that people had no idea how much guilt she already carried and that she didn’t need anyone making her feel worse. That made me feel guilty because I genuinely don’t want to add to someone’s emotional burden. But I also couldn’t completely ignore the concern I had been carrying for months.

The biggest issue for me isn’t actually the IVF. If she had all of her children living with her and wanted another baby, I wouldn’t think twice about it. If she needed to travel temporarily for treatment, I would understand that too. What bothers me is the combination of moving away from her children, building a new household with her husband, and then making the IVF journey such a huge part of her identity. It creates the impression that her existing children have been pushed into the background while she focuses on creating a new family. Again, I don’t know what happens privately, and I don’t want to pretend that social media or conversations with friends tell the whole story. But I also can’t pretend I don’t notice the obvious difference. Whenever I gently raise the subject, she tells me that her children are happy and that I shouldn’t worry about something that isn’t my business.

That response has made me question whether I should simply stay out of it. She is an adult, and the children have another parent who is apparently capable of caring for them. I don’t know their custody agreement, their financial situation, or all the reasons behind the move. Maybe there are details that would make everything make much more sense if I knew them. At the same time, being told that something isn’t my business doesn’t automatically make my feelings disappear. I’m her friend, and she has chosen to talk to me about this almost every day. When someone repeatedly shares an extremely personal part of their life with you, it’s difficult not to have an emotional reaction to it. I don’t want to tell her whether she should or shouldn’t have another child. I don’t want to criticize IVF. I simply wish she would acknowledge why some people might find the situation difficult to understand.

For now, I’ve decided to create some distance from the subject rather than constantly arguing with her about it. I told her that I care about her and hope the treatment goes well, but I don’t think I can be her primary person for discussing every IVF update. I also told her that if she ever wants to talk about something else, I’m completely there for her. She seemed hurt, but I don’t know what else I can realistically do. I can’t force her to move her children to another state, and I can’t make decisions about her family for her. All I can do is decide what conversations I’m comfortable having and what boundaries I need in our friendship. Maybe there are parts of this situation that I don’t understand, and maybe someday I’ll learn information that changes how I see it. Until then, I am trying to separate my concern for the children from my feelings about her fertility journey. I genuinely hope her IVF treatment is successful, but I also hope she remembers that the children she already has still need their mother, no matter what happens with the child she is hoping to have.

Read Story…

My friend left her kids in another state & is now doing IVF

mainly just ranting because I’ve already vented to my bf repeatedly & I think he is sick of me 😂 I’ve also asked said friend to please discuss her IVF journey with me minimally but I think I am one of very few friends she has so it is mentioned at least daily

This is a very long term friendship & we live in different states. She was in a financially & emotionally abusive marriage and fortunately got a divorce. She got her tubes tied because she did not want more kids with her ex husband. She remarried very quickly & I thought the custody agreement was 50/50. She moved states with her new husband and just recently told me they are starting IVF

Naturally I was taken aback and asked about her kids she seemingly left with her ex husband. They haven’t been to visit nor has she been back so I was not sure how to respond to the possibility of her having more kids. She said talking about them/the situation makes her sad and her ex husband has been manipulative and evasive (I do believe this).

Regardless, I am completely floored by the optics of it all: leaving your babies to have more kids with someone else. And there are so many other factors that make the situation worse.

Edited for typos **

2nd edit: I did not expect this to blow up like it did! A lot of you provided helpful critiques & expressed sadness … I agree with all of it. Many of you said don’t be friends with her. I totally understand that sentiment.. Others of y’all are weird & read this post as me passing judgment … someone said I shouldn’t gossip to my boyfriend. Isnt that literally what this sub is for …? Please bfr.

I will add that I do not know anything more than what I shared. I don’t know about the custody agreement or what she’s being honest about or any other details. Anywho thank you for reading 🤎

Friend Questions Mother’s Decision to Leave Her Children Behind for IVF

I never expected something happening in a friend’s personal life to bother me this much, especially because I have always tried to remind myself that I don’t know everything that happens behind closed doors. My friend has been going through IVF with her new husband, and I genuinely understand that fertility treatment can be emotionally exhausting, physically demanding, and financially stressful. I have listened to her talk about appointments, medications, procedures, hopes, disappointments, and everything in between. I have tried to be supportive because I know this is something she desperately wants. The problem is that she already has children from a previous relationship, and she moved to another state with her new husband to pursue IVF while those children remained behind with their father. The more I learned about the situation, the more uncomfortable I became. I don’t have a problem with her wanting another baby, but I struggle with the decision to create so much physical distance from the children she already has while focusing so heavily on having another one.

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My friend is in her twenties or thirties, and she has been a mother for several years. Her children are old enough to understand that their parents aren’t together anymore, but they are still young enough to need consistent involvement from both parents. Before she met her current husband, she had been living closer to her children and had a routine that seemed fairly normal from what I could tell. She wasn’t a perfect mother, because none of us are perfect parents, but she seemed involved in their lives. She talked about school, birthdays, activities, and everyday things involving them. When she eventually started dating her current husband, things changed fairly quickly. They fell in love, got married, and began talking about having a child together. At first, I thought that was completely normal. People remarry and decide to expand their families all the time.

The issue started when they began discussing IVF. My friend explained that they had been trying to conceive and that eventually they decided fertility treatment was their best option. She told me there were specialists in another state who could provide the treatment they wanted, and her husband also had opportunities there that made moving seem practical. I didn’t think much of it at first. I assumed they would move together as a family or that there would be some temporary arrangement where her children would spend a short amount of time with their father while she attended appointments. Instead, the children stayed behind with their father while she and her new husband moved away. She explained that it was the easiest arrangement and that the children were safe and comfortable with their dad. Technically, I couldn’t argue with that. But emotionally, the situation felt much more complicated.

Whenever I asked how the children were handling the move, she would tell me they were fine. She said they had a good relationship with their father and were used to going back and forth between households. She also said she planned to visit whenever she could and that they could always call her. I wanted to believe that everything was working smoothly. Maybe it was. I knew I didn’t have access to every detail of their custody arrangement, and I didn’t want to assume that living in another state automatically meant she was abandoning her children. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about how different their lives must have become. Their mother had moved away, married someone new, and was now building a household somewhere else. Even if the children were being well cared for, that had to be a significant adjustment.

At the same time, her conversations with me became almost completely focused on IVF. She would message me in the morning about an appointment, call me later to discuss medication, and then send another update about something her doctor had said. At first, I listened to everything because I wanted to be a good friend. I asked questions, encouraged her when she was discouraged, and celebrated small pieces of good news with her. But eventually it became overwhelming. Almost every conversation somehow returned to IVF. If we were talking about work, she would mention an appointment. If we were talking about weekend plans, she would explain how treatment affected them. Even casual conversations about unrelated things could turn into long discussions about her fertility treatment.

I eventually told her gently that I was happy to support her but needed a little balance. I wasn’t asking her to stop talking about IVF completely. I simply didn’t want every conversation to revolve around it. She laughed and said she understood, but the situation didn’t really change. I think part of the reason is that I’m one of the few close friends she has. She doesn’t seem to have a huge social circle, and I know she trusts me. Because of that, I often feel guilty when I become frustrated. I know she isn’t intentionally dumping everything on me. She is going through something stressful and probably needs somewhere to put all those emotions. Still, being someone’s emotional support system doesn’t mean you can’t eventually feel exhausted.

What made the situation more uncomfortable was the way she talked about the baby she hoped to have. She and her husband were already planning their future around this child. They discussed names, nursery ideas, parenting styles, and what kind of life they wanted to create. I completely understand being excited about a hoped-for baby. But whenever she talked about that future, I noticed how rarely her existing children came up. I would hear long conversations about the new baby but very little about what her older children were doing. Sometimes I would ask about them directly just to make sure she was still involved in their lives. She would answer briefly and then return to talking about IVF. I didn’t know whether that was simply because IVF was currently consuming her attention or whether something deeper was happening.

I tried very hard not to make assumptions. I reminded myself that people talk about whatever is currently happening in their lives, and IVF was clearly a major event for her. If she were living with her children, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But the physical distance changed how I viewed everything. She wasn’t sitting at home with her children while going through treatment. She had moved away from them to pursue a new pregnancy. That distinction made me wonder whether the children might eventually feel like they had been left behind while their mother started a new family.

One day, she told me about another appointment and how stressful the entire process had become. She was worried about whether the treatment would work and said she felt like she was running out of time. I listened and tried to reassure her. Then she started talking about how badly she wanted to give her husband a child. I asked her whether her existing children were involved in the process or whether they understood why she had moved. She said they knew she wanted another baby and that they were fine with everything. I didn’t press her for more information because I didn’t want to turn the conversation into an interrogation. Still, her answer left me wondering whether children can really understand a decision like this in the same way adults do.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that my concern wasn’t really about IVF at all. I don’t think there is anything wrong with someone pursuing fertility treatment. I don’t think wanting another child makes someone selfish. I also don’t think a divorced or remarried parent automatically has to live in the same state as their children. There are countless families with long-distance custody arrangements that work perfectly well. What bothered me was the combination of circumstances: she had children already, she moved away from them, she was building a new marriage in another state, and she was putting enormous emotional energy into having another child. From the outside, it looked like her old family life had been pushed into the background.

Some of our mutual friends noticed the same thing. We didn’t sit around trying to attack her or gossip about her constantly, but there were occasional conversations where people admitted they were concerned. One friend said she didn’t understand how someone could be so focused on having another baby while living far away from the children she already had. Another pointed out that maybe there were custody or financial reasons we didn’t know about. That was exactly how I felt. I didn’t want to turn my assumptions into facts. I knew there could be information we weren’t aware of.

My friend eventually realized that some people were uncomfortable with the situation and became defensive. She said everyone was judging her without understanding what she had been through. She explained that having another child had always been important to her and that IVF wasn’t something she had chosen casually. She had spent a lot of money and endured a lot of emotional stress to get to this point. She also said her children were happy, healthy, and loved by both parents. According to her, nobody was being abandoned. She felt that people were unfairly treating her decision as though she had simply walked away from her responsibilities.

I understood why she was defensive. If several people were questioning one of the biggest decisions of my life, I would probably feel attacked too. So I tried to explain that I wasn’t accusing her of being a bad mother. I was simply saying that the situation was difficult for me to understand. I told her that I supported her desire to have another child but that I also cared about the children she already had. She seemed surprised that I could hold both thoughts at once. She asked why I couldn’t just be happy for her. I told her that I was happy for her and hoped the IVF succeeded, but being supportive didn’t require me to pretend there were no complicated issues surrounding the decision.

That conversation made things awkward between us for a while. She stopped giving me quite as many IVF updates, which honestly gave me some relief, but I could tell she was hurt. I felt guilty because I didn’t want her to think I was abandoning her during a difficult time. At the same time, I realized that I had been carrying more emotional responsibility for her treatment than I could reasonably handle. I was starting to dread seeing her name appear on my phone because I knew there would probably be another long conversation about medication, appointments, symptoms, or whether a procedure had worked. I wanted to be her friend, not her full-time emotional counselor.

There was another thing that bothered me. She frequently talked about how excited her husband was to become a father. She described him preparing the house, buying things for the future baby, and talking about what kind of father he wanted to be. I couldn’t help noticing that her existing children didn’t seem to be part of those conversations. I asked her once whether her husband had developed a relationship with them. She said he cared about them but that their relationship was complicated because they lived in another state. That answer didn’t necessarily mean anything terrible, but it made the situation feel even more divided. There was her new husband and their future baby on one side, and her older children and their father on the other.

I began wondering whether the children might eventually see the move differently than the adults did. Adults can understand schedules, finances, medical treatment, custody arrangements, and complicated relationships. Children often experience things more simply. Their mother moved away. Their mother married someone else. Their mother wanted another baby. Their mother was now building a home somewhere they didn’t live. Even if everyone explained the reasons carefully, I wondered whether they might still feel replaced or pushed aside. I couldn’t know what they actually felt because I wasn’t their parent, and I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

My friend insisted that she talked to them regularly. She said she video-called them, visited when she could, and made sure they knew she loved them. She also said their father was supportive and never tried to turn them against her. If all of that was true, then I could see why she believed the arrangement was working. The problem was that none of us could really know what happened inside the home. We only saw what she chose to tell us. That’s why I tried to keep my opinions to myself. I could have easily turned my concerns into accusations, but I knew that wouldn’t help anyone.

Meanwhile, the IVF process continued. There were good days and bad days. Sometimes she sounded hopeful, and other times she was convinced the treatment wasn’t going to work. She talked about the emotional roller coaster and how difficult it was to watch other people become pregnant while she struggled. I genuinely felt sorry for her. I could understand why having another baby mattered so much to her. I also realized that fertility struggles can consume someone’s thoughts to the point where everything else becomes secondary. That didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t love her older children. It could simply mean she was overwhelmed by the process.

Still, I couldn’t completely shake the feeling that something was wrong. If she were living near her children, I might have viewed the entire situation differently. But every time she talked about the sacrifices she was making for IVF, I thought about the sacrifice her children might be making too. They didn’t choose the move. They didn’t choose the fertility treatment. They didn’t choose to have their mother start a new life somewhere else. Adults were making all of these decisions, while the children had to adjust to the consequences.

One evening, she called me after a particularly difficult appointment. She was crying and said she wasn’t sure how much longer she could handle the treatment. I listened for a long time. Eventually, she said something that stayed with me. She told me that she felt like everyone expected her to stop wanting another child simply because she already had children. I told her that wasn’t what I was saying. I said she was allowed to want another baby. She was allowed to pursue IVF. She was allowed to build a new life with her husband. But I also believed that having another child didn’t erase the responsibilities she already had.

She became quiet after that. I wasn’t sure whether she was angry or simply thinking. Eventually she said she knew her older children came first and that she would never intentionally hurt them. I told her I believed she loved them. My concern wasn’t about whether she loved them. Love and presence aren’t always the same thing. Someone can love their children deeply and still make choices that create emotional distance. I wasn’t trying to accuse her of being a terrible mother. I was trying to explain why the situation made me uncomfortable.

After that conversation, I made a decision to stop giving unsolicited opinions about her parenting. Unless she specifically asked me what I thought, I would keep my concerns to myself. I also continued to maintain the boundary I had already set about IVF discussions. I wanted our friendship to be about more than one subject. We started talking about normal things again, although IVF still came up regularly. I tried to listen without getting pulled into every detail.

Some people might say I should have confronted her more directly. Others might say it isn’t my business at all. Honestly, I can understand both sides. If the children are safe, cared for, and maintaining a relationship with their mother, then perhaps the situation is more complicated than it looks. I don’t know their custody agreement or what arrangements exist between the parents. I don’t know how frequently she travels back or how often the children visit her. Those are important details, and I don’t want to invent answers simply because the situation looks strange from the outside.

At the same time, I think it’s reasonable for friends to have concerns when they see someone making major decisions involving their children. Being a friend doesn’t mean blindly approving everything someone does. It also doesn’t mean assuming the worst. There has to be room for concern without turning that concern into condemnation. That’s what I have been trying to find. I don’t want to become another person making my friend feel guilty about something that is already emotionally difficult for her.

The biggest thing I have learned from this situation is that two things can be true at once. My friend can genuinely love her existing children and still be making choices that create distance between them. She can genuinely struggle with infertility and still have responsibilities toward the children she already has. She can be excited about building a family with her new husband without intentionally replacing her old family. Life isn’t always as simple as choosing between being a good person and a bad person. Sometimes people make complicated decisions for complicated reasons, and outsiders only see a small piece of the story.

I also understand now why she talks about IVF so much. She has invested so much emotionally in the possibility of another child that the treatment has become a huge part of her daily life. I don’t think she is necessarily trying to make her older children less important. She may simply be consumed by something that is currently happening to her. That doesn’t completely remove my concerns, but it helps me understand her perspective better. I can support her without agreeing with every decision she makes.

For the sake of our friendship, I have decided that I will continue encouraging her to maintain a strong relationship with her children while respecting that their family arrangements are ultimately her responsibility. If she wants to talk about IVF, I’ll listen when I have the emotional energy, but I won’t allow the topic to consume every conversation we have. I also won’t pretend that I know exactly what her children are experiencing when I don’t. Maybe they are perfectly comfortable with the arrangement. Maybe they miss their mother more than she realizes. Maybe they understand everything and support her. I simply don’t know.

At the end of the day, I genuinely hope her IVF treatment works if that is what she wants. I hope she and her husband have the family they are hoping for. But I also hope that whatever happens, she continues making room in her life for the children she already has. A new baby shouldn’t have to mean an old child gets less love, attention, or importance. And I hope she remembers that her existing children aren’t part of her past simply because she has started a new chapter. They are still part of her life, and no fertility treatment, new marriage, new house, or new state changes that responsibility. As for me, I’m trying to be a supportive friend while also protecting my own boundaries, because I have realized that caring about someone doesn’t mean I have to carry every part of their situation for them.