Dear Friend,
So you're infertile, eh? Isn't that such a gross word? I feel like we should be so far beyond that word in this day & age but nope, we're stuck with it. What's annoying is that there are just as many infertile men in the U.S. but no one associates that word with them. Being infertile is like this HUGE word anchored to our uteruses sinking us deeper & deeper into despair. It's cold and clinical and even saying 'being infertile' makes me cringe because if I
had the option I would just 'be' something else like maybe, you know, fertile. For some reason the word has become embarrassing in our society. We whisper it to people when they ask us why we don't have kids. Often we don't want to admit that we are & end up saying things like, "in God's timing..." or "one day, we'll see!"
Being an infertile woman can mean a variety of things. The basic definition saying that you're
technically infertile if you have tried to conceive (TTC) for a year without any luck. Don't be scared by this definition because there's nothing wrong with you! Even if it takes two, three or four + years, your body is a crazy, complex machine that doesn't make any sense sometimes. It's on a timetable of its own & sometimes there's nothing we can do to speed it up or slow it down. For some of us, getting pregnant takes a crap ton of patience (which I usually lack).
I'm considered infertile because my eggs die not long after ovulation & I've
probably been this way my whole life. (How crummy is that?) When I look at the big picture, that's what bothers me more than anything. I'm healthy in every other way that matters...but my eggs die. Every month. There's nothing to be done about it. My husband is also infertile (also unexplained, possibly from birth, yadda yadda...) so with both of those factors the odds were never in our favor to conceive naturally. (Spoken in my
best Effie Trinket voice.)
OK, enough with that...my objective is not to bum you out. Commiserate? Maybe. Encourage? Yes!
Now, I'm sure you know how this feels...
Ick. Things can be scary when you're in a room dressed like this, staring at a poster of Hawaii on the ceiling (because that just takes our minds right off of the fact that we're being poked & prodded in places where the sun don't shine, ya know?) Being in this room sucks. When I was in this room I would get clammy & my mind would go blank. Fortunately I have a really cool husband that held my hand, listened to what our Reproduction Endocrinologist (RE) said & studiously took notes on his iPhone so we would remember what was said. Hopefully you have someone in the room for you...
Remember when a word like 'sperm' made you blush? I think the first time I verbally got to third base with the receptionist at our doctor's office I realized nothing is off-limits with infertility. There's no privacy, no room for modesty & unfortunately you brain eventually forgets the rest of the world is surprisingly prudish if you use terms like 'artificial insemination' or 'vaginal ultrasound' in general conversation. I feel like I could be a freaking RE with all the knowledge I've gained from our experience. Through my nine months of testing I felt like a walking, talking medical experiment. I was pumped with drugs that made me hysterical. I gave so much blood I would nearly pass out & I dealt with Nurse Ratched in the hospital saying,
'good news! You're not pregnant!' moments before I had cameras fished up my tubes and a portion of my uterine wall sucked out. (Gee thanks, lady! Why the heck do you think I'm here?!) I can see comfort in the journey now because every test, every needle, every diagnosis was a puzzle piece that helped me understand my infertility. Before testing, I drove myself (& my husband) crazy with wondering.
What makes matters worse is that sometimes there's really no one you can talk to when you're going through fertility testing. Not because you necessarily
want to be private, but because people just don't understand.
Of course people aren't going to understand. Only about 15% of couples will relate to what you're going through so naturally you'll run into well-meaning people that put their foot in their mouth. They'll offer advice:
"oh just relax...", "take Clomid! I hear that helps...", "maybe you should lose weight..." or one of my favorites,
"go on vacation! I got pregnant with all of my kids that way." (<<where are THEY going for vacation?) But I have found that a lot of people are curious about infertility in a way that's not annoying or out of pity. There are people who actually want to understand how we feel & will try to be comforting. Let them in! I know I sound super political & hippy, but educate those in your circle of influence. Reduce the risk of negativity & insensitive comments by being honest about your journey (as you feel led).
You're going to get bitter, it's inevitable. Maybe you'll handle it better than I did because I honestly felt like a hot mess. Your friends aren't popping out kids because they know it'll tick you off. The pregnant lady in Target taking up aisle space isn't evil, either. Facebook
can be the enemy most days & then you'll get that awkward text from a close friend saying:
"I didn't know how to tell you, but..." It feels ridiculous at times but try to take it with a grain of salt. Just smile, congratulate, & click 'like' because that's pretty much all you can do. Eventually your excitement for other people will be genuine...eventually.
I am not telling you to it's going to get easier. Manageable, maybe. Bearable if you're lucky. I won't tell you to move on but sometimes distracting yourself is all that helps. Stay active, start a hobby, read a million books, get addicted to TV shows, watch movies & take a vacation. (<<fully understanding that 'vacation' isn't some magical existence that automatically makes you & your spouse fertile.) Have quiet time for yourself & think about everything positive in your life. If you're religious, pray & seek counseling or confide in a mentor. Smile! Enjoy life in spite of your circumstances. Take time to cry but please don't go through this alone. (Oh, AVOID Publix commercials...they're the devil.)
I promise one day you'll get to a point where you will accept it. You don't have to be happy about it, but acceptance is freeing. Whether you choose to not parent a child, pursue reproductive therapy or adopt, choose the path that makes you happy. Know that you belong to a community of so many women that know your struggle & are there to help you through it. Together, we're capable of more than we know.
Don't give up, ok?
With Love,
Infertile Myrtle
This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. In the United States, one in eight couples experience infertility. Millions of dollars are spent annually on reproductive drugs & procedures ranging from hormone therapy to In Vitro Fertilization. If you know someone going through infertility respect their struggle & offer love - not advice. Though this blog post contains humor, infertility is nothing to laugh at. It's a medical condition; a disease. It's road is paved with heartbreak & embarrassment. If you're reading this & you are not someone who lives with infertility, ask questions, be supportive & remember how precious the gift of life is. "Life is a gorgeous, broken gift."
