Infertility: The Struggle is Real
For almost 5 years, our family has gone through a treacherous, private journey of infertility. I say our family because, even though it is not our personal journey, we have been walking closely with my brother and sister-in-law on their road to creating a child — it effects us all. And it should, just as it would if they were pregnant.
The following is from the soul of my sweet sister-in-law. It’s raw and real and braver than brave. I am so proud of her and my brother for their faith, hope, and love for one another through all they’ve been through. Everyone’s baby story is different. amongst all the sweet coos of baby and birth announcements, please hear these cries and spread awareness. And for the love of cherry pie, stop asking people when they’re going to Have a baby!
Have you ever noticed when you log on to social media, there are 10 different posts about how amazing and strong moms are? Have you ever felt like these amazing and strong moms have formed a group and bond that you're not allowed to be a part of, or been made to feel inferior, or told that you don't know how to love yet because you don't have a child? Have you ever heard the phrase: “when are you going to have a baby?” and cringed with a censored response?
I have, too.
Have you ever logged on to social media and seen 10 different posts about how amazing and strong women struggling with infertility are? Or scrolled past 10 posts lifting up and encouraging couples going through infertility? Honestly, have you seen any posts about infertility at all recently? I'm going to guess you probably have not. Do you know why? It's because we've made infertility a taboo. Hearing stories of squishy babies is more warm and fuzzy than hearing stories of pain and heartbreak. But both are real journeys. Both should be talked about.
If no one is talking about infertility then it must not be going on, right? WRONG! The truth is, 1 in 8 couples struggle with infertility. (And 1 in 4 has experienced the loss of a pregnancy, which is a topic in-and-of-itself that we will cover a different day). That means you most likely know someone who is going through it right now. Maybe you are a result of parents who struggled to conceive; or have a cousin who had miscarriage after miscarriage, and landed on the precious road to adoption; or your best friend’s sister got pregnant standing on her head drinking pineapple juice after years of trying to conceive (don’t knock it til you try it). Maybe it's the girl you work with who always has a smile on her face and her life seems perfect; or it's the girl you saw in the grocery store with red puffy eyes after another failed IUI. MAYBE IT'S YOU.
It's me, too.
If you are going through, or have been through the infertility jungle, you’ve felt how lonely it is to suffer in silence. You know what it's like to have to put on your smile and be happy for your friend who just told you she's pregnant, while just this morning, you were sitting on the bathroom floor with tears streaming down your cheeks as you held another negative pregnancy test. You know what it's like to hide your tears at work because you started your period, even though you were so sure this was the month. You know what it's like to watch these beautiful pregnancies and births come and go. First birthdays…second birthdays…second pregnancies. You know how exhausting it is to track your ovulation, and you probably know the meaning of TTC, CD2, IUI, IFV, BD, CM, PCOS (and many more alphabet soups). If you’re like me, you are all too familiar with that hole in your gut, that pit, that sinking feeling in all of your all — feeling useless, depressed, unheard, defeated, lost, scared, confused, jealous, and alone under a smile. It is so extremely hard.
I see you. I know you. Because I am you.
So why do we hide our faces if we are a whopping 12.5% of the population? Why are we ashamed and embarrassed of something we can’t control? Let’s talk about the issue, be honest about the hardest and most real and relevant issue in our lives. Let’s scream from the mountain tops proclaiming that we are real: real women and men and couples and families who are struggling with real heartache, real defeat, and real isolation because of unwarranted vanity and taboo. Infertility pushes us to our limits—I say limit(s) because you thought fertility was your limit, and then it pushed you further and further until you found that limits are endless—but it also makes us stronger, and more self-aware, more human aware (who couldn’t use a little more of that?). I have to believe it. Even though we may feel broken on the inside, physically and emotionally, the effort, hope and faith we are putting into bringing life into the world takes more strength than we give ourselves credit for. We are badass, persevering, warrior goddesses! Recognizing ourselves as such should not require a beautifully intense birth story.
I've learned so much and am still learning. Before you began this journey how much did you really know about reproductive anatomy, what a “good sperm count” meant, or what a follicle was? Nothing (speaking for myself here, but thinking there are many who raised their hands with me). Every doctor visit brings on more answers but also more questions. Hormones, injections, medication, blood work and more blood work, ultrasounds, tracking, tears, science, thousands of dollars: happy to have some answers, sad this is your reality. It's all so much to cope and deal with. We've been trained and warned about the struggles of pregnancy and postpartum, but have had zero training in the opposite: infertility.
I’m saying we should talk about it, so I’ll start:
At least, for now, we’ve got our fur-babies.
I am 29 years old and have been married to the love of my life and high school sweetheart for 4 years. I have known I would have a problem conceiving since before we got married. I had been on birth control since I was 15 because my cycle refused to regulate, but eight years of birth control hid my problem. When I was forced to stop taking it (insurance quit covering it) my body went right back to being out of whack.
My husband and I were the only ones that knew something was wrong. We hid it from everyone, including our family and friends because I didn't want to believe it, and I was embarrassed. Within the first six months of being married, we were working with my doctor and trying to figure out what was wrong inside of me. Again, we kept it a secret. Time went on, life was intense, and it was lonely. My mom was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, which put on the pressure to get pregnant because I kept thinking, “if I get pregnant, God won't take my mom away from me.” I’m still working on changing my ways of thinking.
Come to find out, there isn't a specific problem with me, like PCOS or endometriosis—which are the two main factors in infertility—instead we have to deal with the unknown. Why am I not getting pregnant if tests are showing that my husband and I are both "normal”? They gave us the diagnosis of “Unexplained Infertility.” What?! Are you kidding me? I want explanations! “Unexplained” is a big pill to swallow, someone should know! I never thought I would be going through this. How selfish and ignorant of me. If it's unexplainable, then surely this is just a fluke and we can make this happen easily. Nope. Nearly 5 years later, here we are: dozens of failed artificial inseminations, a handful of doctor referrals, 2 maybe-might-have-been misscarriages, more artificial hormones, shots, blood draws, tears and unanswered questions than I can count. Still childless, but trying everything possible to create a child of our own.
I'm opening up and talking about it because it needs to be talked about and 5 years of silence and isolation is too much! I want women and men going through this to know YOU ARE NOT ALONE. There is so much to gain from normalizing our taboo, our 12.5%, and opening up to the ones who have nothing but love and support for you. No one should have to go through infertility, especially alone. Reach out and spread awareness! You are amazing and worthy and strong beyond what you thought possible. Hang in there. We've got this. If you are struggling in silence, please reach out to me (comment here and I’ll touch base)! I would love to chat and hear about your journey because we’re in this together.
Love and blessings on your own journey,
Alison