“When we protect ourselves so we won't feel pain, that protection becomes like armor, like armor that imprisons the softness of of the heart.” ― Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times If I am being truthful, which it looks like I am, I had known that something was wrong with me, with my body. Although young girls my age were taught no two female bodies are the same, I realize now that there is a limit to the differences. There comes a point that differences turn into medical issues. “ Sorry to break it to you that you are SO different, so special, that your genetics have decided to give you a syndrome that effects just about everything!” YAY ME. There were many possibilities, there are many things that could plague a woman’s body, but I was never given reasons for my differences. No two periods are the same, blah blah. Starting the “we are trying” process was really the first time that I had considered that my lack of normalcy was due to a graver issue than just having a body that acts differently.
Almost two years into “trying” (my RE told me that this word was a purely female word, men are always trying), three different doctors and an endless stream of tests that poked, that took and that hurt; the answer was there. Yes, there is a reason. Part of me was relieved, because finally all those people who liked to tell me their opinions as to why I couldn’t get pregnant, can finally...(you know). “Well, sometimes you just have to be patient, relax and try not to be so stressed. You know, when it is meant to be, it is meant to be!” “No, mam. You are wrong. You have no idea how to appropriately deal with this type of social situation. I have a medical condition called PCOS (jury is still out if I have the ‘s’ or not) that causes cysts to form on my ovaries, causing me to not ovulate. So you think that it is meant to be that I have cysts on my ovaries like little blood suckers latching onto my hopes and dreams, sucking them away?” A blank look, a gapping mouth, like a fish trying to suck in the air that cannot give it life. “Meant to be that for some reason, my body produces these little pockets of disgusting death, that can burst at any time causing a pain that shoots up your spine and into your organs as though they are all being stabbed at once?” Sucks to your ass-mar. They never have an answer and they always walk away thinking to themselves just how much of a rude person I am. They would whisper under their breath as they tried to catch it. Yea, yea, lay it on me. The truth is always hard to take, it is too real. What would have been an appropriate response? I didn’t give her one. In reality, I didn’t have the voice to speak up and offer even the most kind of answers. How this conversation usually goes, if I am being honest (duh, I am) is the employment of the following launch sequence: 1- gaping mouth, like when I try to unblock my ears in a plane 2-eyes to the ground 3- a bobbing of the head side to side as though I am doing the littlest of dances from the shoulder up 4- fake smile behind the tears 5- “ahh, I’m too young for kids!” or “Ahh, one day!”. In both scenarios, real or wished, I am left with the same thought: Maybe that wasn’t fair. Guilt is one of the main emotions we infertiles (as I have often heard other women refer to themselves as) deal with. Again, I feel guilty for my rudeness, yes, but also for her ignorance. For society’s ignorance over this issue. It is my fault, I shouldn’t be speaking in truths. Shouldn’t I keep it to myself, just deal with it...just smile and chuckle when they say things like that? Guilty for, just feeling damn guilty. That has become exhausting. Maybe that first scenario wasn’t fair, but life is not fair. Believe me I know, me and Life, we have beef. Hopefully, next time someone is about to give their words of insensitive wisdom to someone who may or may not be going through what I am, they think about it and choose something else. Platitudes don’t help, these words of consolation that only point to the obvious problem and show it off. “Hey, I see you have a broken leg... ouch... Have you tried walking on it?” says a non medically trained person who once stubbed their toe. “Oh, you know what, no! I’ll try that!” No, time will not fix this. Infertility is a medical condition. Medicine, not your old wives tales, can help. Medicine can give us a chance, not holding my legs up. In case you have caught your self and, perhaps, self identify as a fellow Woman/Man of Wispy Words, I have conveniently provided you with a list of things you can say to a woman or to a couple struggling with infertility: 1. I am sorry this is happening. 2. Do you want to talk about it? (If they say no follow with #3) 3. When you want to talk about, let me know. I can listen. 4. What do you need? 5. I love you. 6. I am here for you. 7. What can I do to help with your pain? 8. Help me understand what you are going through. 9. You are not less of a woman. You are strong, you have worth. 10. YOU ARE ENOUGH 11. That’s not fair. 12. When you feel up to do, can you explain *insert procedure, acronym, test, appointment, injection, medication, HERE 13. I love you. 14. I will accept you and love you no matter what life brings. It hurts to think that these words are not on the tip of everyone’s tongue. Shouldn’t this be said to all, shouldn’t friends, coworkers, heck, strangers believe this and say this no matter what? Perhaps I need my own list of key phrases to understand the thoughts of those fertile goddesses with wombs that pulse with life. “Wait. This is not fair”, I hear a voice cry out. This could be the voice of many, maybe that is your voice? “I had no idea that you were suffering from this! How was I supposed to know! You can’t be like this!” the chorus cries. Right now, I can actually be like this. This is what I need. This is what 1 out of 6 Canadians need. Empathy and the move towards understanding. We don’t expect you to understand, that is not possible. You can not understand, truly, unless you have suffered from infertility your self. * DISCLAIMER: (and possible side rant) - you can only say that you have infertility IF YOU HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED BY A DOCTOR (and fyi unexplained infertility is a diagnosis). “I tried for two months before I got pregnant, I know how it feels.” You were worried, yes. You were anxious, yes. You wanted something really bad that did not happen right away, yes. You had a challenging time conceiving, sure. You had infertility? HELL TO THE NO. Yes, answers are helpful. I know why I can't conceive, I know what to do, I know what I should type into my browser so that I can spend endless hours online reading all the worst cases of this and assume that I will die. We don’t have a Golden Ticket, and sometimes answers make the situation seem more simple than it truly is. In the world of infertility the goal posts are constantly being moved. We know that answers are a mirage we can't trust. In reality, I know that when people offer tips and tricks that have been circling for centuries regarding conception, I know they are full heartily trying to help. I think that perhaps infertility has been taboo (don't even get me started in this...) for far too long, and society still doesn't really know what happens when the one thing evolution has built women to do, is broken. Hopefully, if more people speak about it, like anything else, the stigma will slowly dissipate. Until then, know that my bluntness is not meant to insult, but to simply be real. I will not sugar coat, I will not hide my pain any longer just to make others more comfortable. There will be no sugar tonight, my friends.
5 Comments
Lori
4/28/2018 07:40:40 pm
I think it’s awesome that you’re sharing about your journey and I am sorry to hear that you and Tyler are going through this. While I never personally had to deal with infertility myself I have through my work so I can empathize with what you’re going through! I’ve been a part of people’s lives going through this even becoming friends with some people I would scan monthly for their ovulation tracking etc! While I know it won’t be easy I do wish you both the best luck in the next steps to help battle the infertility! ❤️
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Danica
4/28/2018 08:57:39 pm
I love you Sara! This is great! You’re an excellent writer! Keep it coming!
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Rebecca
4/29/2018 01:21:20 pm
That feeling of guilt. So true yet so not ok to feel. I hear your pain. I have a son yet I have been struggling with secondary infertility (after a million tests they still can't figure out what's wrong with us) for two and half years now and it just sucks. And you know what? Even though I already have one child, it still hurts, and my pain is still real. I'm ALWAYS on the verge of tears. It took us 14 months for the first and now people keep asking us when our next one will be ("leo needs a brother or sister " they say) and it just hurts so bad. And it's weird because you would think I'd be happy with one - which I am, I'm incredibly grateful - but I can't rid myself of this feeling of guilt, like I'm depriving my son of having a sibling. And the age gap just gets wider every year. Now I just tell everyone what we're dealing with so they stop telling me "just don't think about it!" Yeah. Sure. Great advice there. The feeling is so hard to explain. But it's like you said, we're not alone and it's ok to talk about it. We should not be ashamed of this. Fuck this taboo nonsense.
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Sara Collins
4/29/2018 06:57:25 pm
I am so so so sorry that you are also dealing with this!! I am sure that there are so many other hardships that come with secondary infertility... Thank you for reaching out, it is so nice to know all the other people in my life who have the same exact experiences as me. Although, I don't wish infertility on anyone! xo
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Marie-France
5/6/2018 07:04:23 pm
LOVE you both girls!!! ❤️❤️ Just so you know... you rock no matter what! 😘 So glad to call you girls my friends, even though we're miles away! Xoxox Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
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Author:Sara Collins has always had a passion for writing. Writing song lyrics for the Backstreet Boys, Short Stories, Poetry, and big chunks of half finished novels. Now she is proud to share her writing around her experiences in infertility. Archives |