"According to the American Society For Reproductive Medicine, infertility
affects 6.1 million American women and their partners, about 10
percent of the reproductive age population..." You can read the
rest of the article here.
1 in 10? Wow. Why then, is infertility (IF) still such a taboo subject? A friend of mine recently thanked me for being willing to talk about my own struggle with IF. She commented that all the issues surrounding IF are hard for her to understand as not many are willing to talk about their experiences. Fair enough.
I've found that talking about IF is much easier with individuals who have been (or are currently) in my shoes. Explaining the range & depth of emotions is difficult to put into words. I have been on the receiving end of a lot of ignorant IF comments, most (but not all) were well-intended. Truth is, the more I think about it, I think my friend may have a point. Maybe the "fertile world" :) doesn't understand the "infertile world" because the IF-ers don't tend to talk much (or at all) about their experiences. Maybe.
Then again, I can certainly understand the IF silence. From a purely physical standpoint, IF is a very personal issue. How much info is too much info, really? Do you want to hear about the dye that was (painfully) inserted into my fallopian tubes, the plethora of vaginal ultra-sounds, the high dosages of drugs (both oral & injections), the side effects from those drugs, the oh-so-romantic doctor prescribed intercourse. . . just to name a few. Or what about the emotional side of IF? Do you want to hear of the denial, embarrassment & shame that I dealt with early on, or the hopelessness that followed which then turned into anger? Or how about that as the anger melted away (although some lingers about), the true emotion emerged--sorrow, deep sorrow. None of these are easy emotions to talk about, especially if the one you are talking to cannot relate.
I think for me, besides the obvious inability to get pregnant, this is the next hardest thing about infertility, that most people just do not understand my pain/sorrow/grief/loss. Since I want to feel "understood" (doesn't everyone?) I mask the pain (as much as possible). How's that working for me, you ask? Depends on the day. When I am at my best, I feel so blessed for the family that God has already given me and I am content to leave the infertility issues to Him. At my worst, depression closes in around me. It's a constant battle and most days I'm somehwere in the middle. In theory, I know that this "thorn in my flesh" can be a stepping stone to a closer relationship with God; His grace is sufficient, even for me. In practice, waiting for God's answer to this particular prayer (whether that answer be "yes" or "no"), has been a serious test of my faith.
Which brings me to my point. . . Bryn & I shouldn't have to carry this burden alone, and thankfully, we don't. We are blessed with some very encouraging and supportive friends & family. But wouldn't it be great if everyone had a better understanding of infertility, to be better equipt to care for our loved ones who are struggling through this type of loss? With this hope in mind, I am going to try harder to put myself out there and truly give anyone who is reading this blog a truer picture & understanding of life with infertility. Please bear with me as this will not be an easy task (being vulnerable never is). Hopefully, writing about this topic will be therapeutic. More importantly, maybe it will increase awareness & compassion for the 10% of us that face the reality of infertility every day.
