What I wish you knew about infertility
Now that I’m in my late thirties I’m starting to get a lot of people coming to me and asking me how they can better support their friend who is going through infertility. What should they say? What should they avoid? Just, how do they handle it? Every person is different so there are no perfect answers. It has caused me to reflect and think about what I wish people around me had known.
I’ll start with the caveat that I have wonderful friends and family. Unfortunately (or fortunately) my infertility journey started when I was fairly young, twenty-eight. That meant that I had no friends who had gone through it before and no one in my inner circle who really understood.
I can’t believe it has been 10 years. To the exact month. The final confirmation came on October 31st, 2018 and the months leading up to it were lots of tests and doctors visits. So this is what my ten year younger self would want you to know.
The pain of infertility doesn’t go away when I become a mom. This is a pretty complex concept. It is worth its own whole post. For now, let me just say that my struggles with infertility aren’t around being a mother, but rather not having a body that is physically able to do what society tells us women should do - bear children. My pain didn’t stop once my son was born, I just became too busy to allow it to take over me. Ten years later and I still cry when I talk about it.
Please include me. It’s ok that I don’t have the same experiences. But please acknowledge me. On so many occasions I’ve sat at a table with girlfriends where they share breastfeeding, pregnancy or labor stories. I imagine my presence must make them uncomfortable so I just smile and pretend I understand. Rather than ignore me, ask me about my experiences. I had to learn about the breastfeeding options (they exist), saw ultrasounds and interviewed pediatricians and helped delivered my children. I actually don’t remember anyone asking me about those things and it made me feel ashamed. And lonely.
I might not be able to celebrate your pregnancy today. That doesn’t mean I feel that way everyday. Just today. Seeing all your friends get pregnant is really hard. Most of the time I put on a smile and just get through another baby shower. I’ve actually thrown quite a few and I think I’m pretty good at it! Sometimes I go home and just cry. And then I’m better. I’m happy for you. Just know that behind my smile I’m still hurting. For me, the time before our children were born was filled with fear, anger, sadness and anxiety. I get jealous that other moms can celebrate up to the birth of their children unlike I ever could.
Just ask me what I need. Why is the topic of infertility so taboo? You can talk to me about it. Sometimes I need or want to talk about it so I can hang it up and move on. If I don’t want to talk about it, I will tell you. I’ve needed different things at different times. You don’t know if you don’t ask. Sometimes it is simply knowing that someone else recognizes my discomfort.
Know that every infertility journey is unique. Most of my friends have actually struggled to get pregnant. And most of them have ultimately become moms in one way or another. I’ve never met another person who had the exact same journey as mine. Be empathetic. Even if you have struggled with infertility, remember that others are still there. I found that fertility issues are a bonding experience, just like raising children can be. Women who ultimately become pregnant may be able to move past infertility. One of my hardest periods was after my close friends suffered infertility but then got pregnant around the same time. I went from being able to share with them to feeling like an outsider.
The most important thing to know is that if you care enough to want to help, then you are a pretty awesome person to begin with.