Infertility: the Not-So-Funny, the Bad, and the Ugly

Dear Avery,

Infertility is something you never think you will go through. My Mom had 4 kids. I’m surrounded by large number of children on both sides of our families, surely that means it will be easy for me? Right? Yeah, not so much.

Infertility is like watching a bus full of your best friends go away to summer camp to experience this incredible adventure, while you are left in the dust because you didn’t get your parents to sign your permission slip in time. Stupid timing! You watch them wave to you, tell you they’ll miss you, and good luck with the lonely summer you’ll have. Basically, it’s life’s biggest pity party.

This blog is 3 years in the making. It’s 3 years deep in experience. It’s 3 years full of ups and downs.

When we decided to that we were ready to start a family, I was 25 and we’d been married for 2 years. OK, 2 years of fun, sleep, vacations, wine, and time spent together — that’s good enough, right? OK — it’s time for babies!

Ready… set… not going.

This is a really hard road. Much harder than I ever expected. Rounds of testing, pill taking, watching your fertile calendar like a fiend, and this really odd yearning for something more to add to your life. I wanted to hear that there was something wrong with me so I could fix it. And nothing. “Everything looks great. In fact, especially since you are young, it should happen anytime now.” Hearing this after every positive test, was great but insanely frustrating. If everything is right, why is nothing working? It’s like when I got tested recently for allergies because I’ve had a tough year of awful sinus infections back to back to back to back, and then WANTING to see that I had developed an allergy because I wanted to be proactive and avoid whatever I needed to avoid to not get these anymore! And surprise “You are literally not allergic to anything. Just up your intake of Clartin.” Note: I’m not asking for an allergy here, but I’m asking for explanations. That’s all I really want.

As an open book personality, this was my greatest secret for a long time. Something was clearly wrong with me, why would I want to tell anyone about it? Then over time and after the 15 millionth question about when I was going to have kids, I started telling my family and close friends. And over time, it got easier and harder. Talking about it goes both ways. It makes it easier to manage your thoughts and feel supported (thankfully, I am surrounded by WONDERFUL people), but then it gets harder because you don’t want to people to feel sorry for you and show up to parties with an “I” on your chest. Ugh. It’s the strangest thing.

So, in some psychological way, writing about it and sharing is very refreshing. And I’m hoping that it reaches other women who are in the struggle with me. Like group therapy, there is a strength in knowing that you aren’t alone. And that I hope you get the result you are yearning for.

In light of the 3 years, I’ve got 3 things to highlight for the infertile army of tough women out there:

• The Not-So-Funny: You go through times where you will look at your calendar and think… “I’m going to Vegas in a month… good thing I’m not pregnant! I enjoy the occasional cocktail, and it’s one less thing to worry about.” While it’s not funny to think that way, it kind of is. You plan to not be pregnant for upcoming events. Thankfully, these events take your mind off of it…so they are always welcomed.

• The Bad: Infertility sucks. Even the word sucks. You feel defeated. You feel defected. You feel powerless.

•  The Ugly: You will never ugly cry harder. You will be angry, sad, envious, and heartbroken in times where you should be happy. You’ll feel all those things when other people tell you they are pregnant. That school bus image comes to mind first, she’s on the bus and you aren’t. That’s the ugly part of infertility. But, 10 seconds later, you’ll join in her happiness, as you should. It’s about them, not you.

(And to my personal friends — important note — please do not feel bad telling me you are pregnant — that will only make me feel worse! I need you to know, deep down, I’m extremely happy for another beautiful life to join our group of friends. That feeling will never go away, because I already LOVE that baby of yours. And hell, let’s be real, you are all on your second kid by now anyway!)

There you have it. Laid out in the vulnerable open like that.

Don’t think for a second that I’m sitting at home in a corner crying all day. Absolutely not. I focus on kicking ass at work. Taking half day Fridays to get a jump on a fun weekend away from home. Working out at a fancy gym because I can spend my money on ME. Eat out at restaurants multiple times a week with my husband as we talk about life, work, and swap funny stories. Go to themed parties with my friends. Attend weddings like its a part time job. And enjoy all the sleep I’m currently getting. Life is still so sweet. It can be hard, but it’s oh so sweet.

{Here’s to a life we can enjoy in the moment we have it, and worry less about what we don’t have.}

With love,

Aunt Megs