National Infertility Awareness Week

My family, 4 months before Abby was born (we didn't know about her then.) It may or may not be obvious but Ryan and I were the only ones in my gigantic family without any children.

Did you know it’s National Infertility Awareness week? I just found out. But I’ve known about our infertility for 8 years. I was surprised by it though. Not that it would be hard to conceive, I expected that, but I didn’t realize just how unlikely it would be. That was a shock.

When I first found out about the unlikelyhood of me ever being pregnant (at least without serious medical intervention) I felt very alone. I didn’t know of anyone close to me with the same problem. Since the time we started trying to have children I have had 12 nephews born (another on the way) from 5 sisters (I have 22 nephews and 6 nieces currently – 6 sisters total). It seems pretty much all of my friends have had babies (at least the ones who weren’t seriously avoiding pregnancy). I don’t begrudge anyone the opportunity to have babies, I’m happy for them when they do (sometimes happier for them than they are for themselves), but it can seem like you are the only one not having babies sometimes, and it’s lonely. But, since that time I have learned that I’m not alone and have found many friends because of infertility. We have a nice support community. But still, we are a minority. Most of the population doesn’t understand what infertility is like – many try to be understanding and sensitive, but just as with pretty much any life situation, if you haven’t been there it is difficult to really get it.

So, to aid in infertility awareness I will share a little about my experience – well, what I have learned from it.

I have learned that everyone’s experience with infertility is different. What has been hard for me may not be hard for someone else, and vice versa. The way I grieve it may be different from the way someone else does. What I have gained from it may also be different. If you want to know what a person is specifically struggling with, or what they need you to be sensitive about, ask them. I would have been very hurt if people hadn’t invited me to baby showers or if my sisters hadn’t invited me to ultrasounds or their deliveries. Some people don’t want to be included in things like that (and I understand that) but I wanted to still celebrate life and be part of the joys in the lives of people I love.

• A hard thing for me was receiving unsolicited advice. Not all of it was hard, mostly when people share ideas with me or ask me if I knew about or considered something I genuinely appreciated it. Sometimes the advice was good or what they shared was knew to me, mostly I just appreciated that they loved me enough to be thinking about our trial and wanting to find ways to help. When advice was hard for me was when I felt like I was given the same advice repeatedly by the same person and it felt like I was being judged – like I wasn’t doing enough to become a mom. I still knew the advice was out of love and I wasn’t hurt or offended, it was just tiring to have to keep explaining why I was doing (or not doing) things.

• Another hard thing was questions. I was not bothered by people asking why we didn’t have kids yet or when we were going to have kids. What was hard for me was being asked why we couldn’t. That was a very invasive question to me. I understand the curiosity and am not offended by it. But when your body is not functioning correctly, with something that seems so basic (Adam and Eve were commanded to multiply and replenish the earth; plants, animals; amebas – all living things multiply ALL THE TIME; and it seems like every other person on the earth is capable of achieving what our bodies were meant to do – multiply!) it is humiliating. It is a strike against your womanhood (or manhood). It feels like your body has completely let you down. And it is embarrassing. I know logically it shouldn’t be, but it is, at least for me. I think it is in some ways comparable to having a mental illness. Really, people with mental illness have no more control over it than someone with cancer or some other physical illness. But since it is mental it feels like you should be able to have the self control to over come it, but that is not how it works, and can be embarrassing. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Infertility is like that – embarrassing, even if it shouldn’t be.

• Everything you do to try to get pregnant… Tracking my cycle, taking my basal temperature every morning for years, trying different diets, fertility treatments, etc. Hoping each month that it might be the month, hoping that my cycle being a little late means there’s a baby. Being so nauseated and thinking it meant something more than my body wasn’t happy with me. Not taking any migraine medications half of every month because of the possibility that it could hurt a baby. Willing to do it all to get pregnant, but nothing helps.

• Not having experiences that I want so much has been hard. I LOVE being a mom, and I am SO GRATEFUL for our infertility because it is only because of it that Abby is our daughter, and I can’t imagine not having her amazingness in our lives. But adoption is not a cure for infertility. I want so much to know what pregnancy feels like. I want to see the positive pregnancy test – to get to tell my husband, my family, my friends. I want to go to ultrasounds, I want to feel a baby inside me, I want to be able to blame body changes on pregnancy J, I want to have control over the diet my baby has from the beginning, I want to be able to nurse, and honestly I want to feel what it is like to have a child that doesn’t have another mother. I want all of those experiences so much. Having those things will not make it so I love a child that came to us that way any more than I love Abby or any other child that comes to us through adoption. Those are just experiences I long to have.

• One of the hardest parts of infertility for me is the unknown. Having to find the right way to receive children into your family, having so little control over when it will happen, not knowing if one day you will actually conceive, etc. It’s emotionally exhausting, so much so that it manifests physically as well. And in truth, I hate not being able to plan trips. I know that is a small problem in the grand scheme of things, but I love taking trips and not being able to predict or even just have 9 months notice for when a baby will join us makes planning trips tricky, darn it!

I’m sure there have been other things that have been hard for me that I’m not thinking about right now, but these are some of them, the main ones. I realize though that there are things that are commonly difficult for many people struggling with infertility and even though they don’t generally present a huge problem for me I think it is good to be aware of them. Here are some:

·         Being in places where they are continually confronted with it (church or other social situations where you are likely to see many pregnant women or families with young children or here talks about parenting; or baby showers; Mother’s Day).

·         Hearing conversations about pregnancy or delivery or parenting. Hearing people complain about pregnancy or commenting about how they weren’t even trying to get pregnant or wish they weren’t pregnant.

·         People complaining about their children and sometimes making comments about how they’d be willing to give them to you.

·         People trying to be “helpful” by pointing out to you all the reasons you should be grateful to not be pregnant or have children (no stretch marks, full nights sleep, have sex without need for contraception, date nights without having to find a babysitter, etc…  These things are true, and while you are faced with infertility you try to focus on the positives, but having people tell you why you should be thankful not to have what you most want is not helpful.)

·         Comments such as “You’ll get pregnant once you adopt” or “You just need to relax” or “Do you need a book on how to do it right?”

·         Questions about when couples will start having kids or why they haven’t yet or statements that are judgemental such as “We have been counseled to not delay having children.”

·         People making suggestions about the right way for them to bring children into their family.

·         Telling someone that already has children but who is struggling with not being able to have more that they should just be grateful for those they already have, or saying something that infers that they are being selfish to want more.

·         Telling them you understand what they are going through, especially if getting pregnant has never been a problem for you.

Well, I intended to also write about what I have learned from infertility and other blessings in my life because of it. I hate to leave this post on a negative note, but it’s already gotten quite long so my happier, positive posts will have to wait for another day.