Infertility

She Was My Only Baby

“Infertility is the inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy to term after 12 months of trying to conceive” (Resolve.org). But that definition falls short of telling you what it really means to struggle with infertility so, in honor of Infertility Awareness Week (April 24th-30th), let me tell you what infertility is to me.

Infertility is a medical condition, but the general population thinks it can be cured by relaxing, getting drunk, going on vacation or “just not thinking about it.” News flash: none of those things will help someone who isn’t ovulating, has blocked tubes or who is dealing with recurrent miscarriage.

Infertility is a medical condition where outside people judge it as “obsessing” to learn as much as possible about your condition, your body, and how to help it function like a healthy body. Seriously, you wouldn’t tell a patient with diabetes to “stop obsessing” over their blood sugar numbers or to stop carefully watching their diet, so please don’t discourage someone who is battling infertility from doing all they can to have a living child.

Infertility is usually portrayed one of two ways in movies or TV. One, the woman, who is infertile, may be seen as unstable, a character who should not be a mother and will go to criminal lengths to take someone else’s child. Or two, infertility is shown as a brief inconvenience to be fixed and forgotten in half an hour, usually with an unrealistic surprise healthy twin pregnancy.  Reality is that infertility affects one in eight couples. It’s a disease affecting the reproductive system and people are not chosen for this disease because they are somehow less worthy to be parents.  And while the majority of those diagnosed with infertility will go on to eventually have a living child, not all of us will.  For those who are successful, the road may be long, expensive, and painful.

Infertility is marked by the slow decline from easy optimism (we should plan to start trying to conceive this month so that I am due that month) to discouragement (eight months and nothing?), to worry (is it time for a specialist?) to pessimism (usually marked by the language change from “when we have kids” to “if we have a child”).

Infertility is living life in two-week increments, constantly waiting for something to happen that is beyond your control, like ovulation or fertilization, and being repeatedly disappointed.

Infertility is wanting something so much that your whole body aches.

Infertility is the willingness to put your body through all kinds of hormonal hell just for a chance to have that beloved child.

Infertility is draining your savings account or even taking out loans to have a chance to have a child.

Infertility is feeling your soul wither a little more with every failed cycle, while everyone around you seems to take their children and fertility for granted.

Infertility is getting your hopes up just for them to be crushed again, month after month after month.

Infertility is crying alone in the bathroom at your best friend’s baby shower.

Infertility is finally seeing those two pink lines after years of trying, only to hear those soul crushing words “I’m sorry but there is no heartbeat.”

Infertility is hearing even your doctors say hurtful platitudes about how at least they know you can get pregnant now, as if that is any comfort after losing your child.

Infertility is learning the painful reality that a positive pregnancy test is not a guarantee that you will have a living child in your arms nine months later.

Infertility is learning that having one pregnancy loss doesn’t mean you are safe against another loss.

Infertility is feeling like a misfit in groups of women, as you are usually the only one who is not a mother. Conversations frequently focus on raising children and, all too often, none of them gives a second thought to just how painful listening, and being excluded, is for you.

Infertility is coping with the fact that your family and friends, who should be your support system, may instead say all kinds of ignorant and hurtful things to you.

Infertility is isolating even though you are not alone. One in eight couples will struggle with infertility but since many choose to keep the struggle quiet, you might not know the person who works next to you is in the same boat.

Infertility is finding support and solidarity with the women who have gone before and the women who are still in the trenches of struggling to conceive.

Infertility is feeling kicked in the gut as you become the last person in your infertility support group who still doesn’t have a living child.

Infertility is embracing the bitterness that comes when your infertility support group develops pregnesia and forgets how hard the struggle was when they didn’t have a living child, such as spouting the same awful platitudes they hated when they were the one struggling to conceive. This leads you to constantly keep looking for new support groups where maybe you won’t be the only one left behind.

Infertility is learning to embrace conflicting ideas, like wanting your infertile BFF to achieve her dream of a living child but also wishing her dream wouldn’t come true before yours so that you are not left alone. Again.

Infertility is feeling anger, sadness, envy, bitterness, and a host of other emotions at every random pregnant belly you see and feeling like everyone woman on the planet is pregnant, except you.

Infertility is feeling your hopes, dreams and expectations for your life fade as your life is lived on hold.

Infertility is losing your identity and self-esteem, losing yourself in the pain of the struggle.

Infertility is re-examining, re-defining and sometimes losing your faith as you grapple with the pain of your deepest dreams being delayed, denied and dying.

Infertility is feeling broken, defective and betrayed by your body.

Infertility is feeling less than a woman (or a man) and ashamed that you have failed yourself and your spouse once again.

Infertility is a constant reminder that life just isn’t fair.

Infertility sucks.

Maureen Schaefer
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Maureen Schaefer (known as Reen to her online friends) found herself battling infertility and recurrent miscarriage after trying to start a family in 2011. Maureen found information and solidarity in her online support groups and eventually began to help moderate a group for those pursuing advanced methods of trying to conceive. She also co-founded a group for those actively trying to conceive who have experienced two or more pregnancy losses or babies born still (Babycenter's Actively Trying with Repeat Loss). Now, after five pregnancy losses, Maureen is coming to terms with living a childless life. You can usually find her behind the scenes helping out with Still Mother's Facebook page and groups.

3 thoughts on “Infertility”

  1. Wow…I found myself saying “YES!!!” to all of the ways you describes infertility. THANK YOU for reading my mind and seeing my Soul…even if you didn’t realize you had that ability! I’m in a dark, dark place… But your words were some much needed nourishment

    1. Hi Melissa. So sorry that I am only now seeing this comment. I am so sorry that you are in a dark place but am glad that what I wrote reached you, so that you know you are not alone. Sending you big virtual ((((((hugs)))))

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