I say ‘so far’ because I am not naive enough to believe we are done yet. I know that relatively speaking, we are probably not very far into our journey yet. We have got many more mountains and hurdles to overcome, and, a universe full of pain and heartache still heading our way. The outlook doesn’t look good, reflecting over the past doesn’t feel good.
But I know that God is good and I have learnt some things whilst battling infertility.
(‘Battling’ is an odd word to use. It doesn’t feel like a battle. If feels more one sided and so far infertility is winning. It’s beating me up; stamping on me, crushing me, breaking me… until I’m a broken mess feeling unable to move. A very one-sided battle. Or so it seems anyway.)
So, what has infertility taught me do far?
I can’t control everything…
This is something I have had to deal with with my counsellor. It became apparent that something I struggle with is a lack of control. I’m a teacher… I like to be in control! When we were discussing an appointment that was coming up, I expressed how I was nervous that we might be late (side note: my husband’s family have a habit of being late… for everything… literally everything…but it’s ok, I have dealt with that and am able to laugh about it now :D) and so from this, my counsellor helped me look at things from the start of this TTC journey to see what things I can and can’t control. Here is just a few things I can’t control: whether or not I get pregnant naturally, when my appointments will be, whether IVF will work, if I will have a miscarriage or a still birth, how much the treatment will cost, whether my husband will be ready to leave on time. I mean, that is just 5. The list is endless. This is a very uncontrollable situation.
It is important to identify what you can control and what you will let go of…
Above are some of the things I cannot control. Letting go of those is hard. I want to be able to control whether or not I get pregnant naturally. But I can’t. I can, of course, control whether I take supplements to help raise the chances, but ultimately I can’t. No one can. I can get on the phone and nag the hospital and clinics for appointments, but I can’t control it. What I have realised is there are things I can do to help, but not all things can I control. So I have had to ‘let go’ of controlling those things because in the end, if I try to hold on even more, it will just lead to more heartache. BUT, there are things I can control. YAY! I can control whether I am ready on time for an appointment, I can control (or try to) how I respond to things such as news or pregnancy announcements, I can control who I allow into my life to support me. The most important thing that I can control is my relationship with God, how I take my pain and despair to Him and how I let Him give me peace. The be all and end all of this, of TTC, is that little of it is in our control. We can time our intercourse, we can track my hormones, we can take our supplements. But if we get pregnant is completely out of our hands. This has been one of the most important lessons; to let go of control.
I don’t know what everyone else is going through.
After all, I am sure that some friends of mine will read this one day and never have known what we were going through. A smile can hide 1,000 heartbreaks. Since opening up about this, I have learnt of others who have also been here. 1in8 is actually a lot of people. When I am getting angry at an innocent couple for their lovely pregnancy announcement, or I am frustrated at another couple celebrating their gender reveal, or I am in tears over what feels like the 20th birth announcement picture in a week, I literally have no idea what it took for that baby to be. Because infertility is still a little bit of a taboo subject. It makes people feel uncomfortable. Hands up, who feels uncomfortable when I talk about the details of our infertility? That there is a problem with the sperm? That we have to have tests done at certain points during my menstrual cycle? Yeah, it is uncomfortable to talk about and that is why people don’t feel able to open up about it. In the past, and probably still in some cultures today, infertility was a sign that you had done something wrong or that there was something wrong with you or that you were cursed because God was angry with you. Although people ‘know’ it is just as common as other illnesses and diseases, I don’t think people really know, so people don’t share. And I think that is really sad.
Having my own family means more to me than I ever thought it could.
I wish I could put into words how much I would love to have my own family with Pete. He would make a brilliant dad. I don’t like using the word, but it’s true, I am desperate to have a family. There are no amount of words that could express how deep and how large this desire is. In fact, I might argue that not being able to have children yet has given me a greater desire than if I had gotten pregnant straight away. Every month, it becomes a greater and greater desire.
My periods are painful.
Ok, so I did know this before. I knew this when I was 12 and had my first period. But TTC periods are painful in a different way. The physical pain feels much more intense when it is accompanied by the emotional turmoil that you go through each month at the same time as your period. Every twinge during the TWW convinces you that you are pregnant; that this was the month it finally worked! Then you get a different twinge and suddenly you know you aren’t. And that repeats several times and sometimes you may even take a test. When you get a BFN (big-fat negative), it hurts. Then when your period arrives, you have to deal with the physical pains – if you’re like me and get them really bad – and the emotional stuff too. It feels worse than it ever did before!
No one can tell me how I should feel.
“You should feel grateful that you’re ovulating…” I am grateful, I don’t need to be told. “You shouldn’t feel sad that X and Y are having a baby, it’s great news!” You’re right, it is great news, but I am sad. “Oh Charly, you should be pleased! It’s great that you have a date for X, Y and Z [appointments, tests, treatments etc…]” BECAUSE IT REITERATES THAT WE CANNOT HAVE CHILDREN. This is incredibly important. I shouldn’t be made to feel guilty about the way I feel. The way I feel is valid, even if you disagree…. This leads nicely onto…
No one should invalidate the way I feel.
The way I feel is the way I feel. End of. Unless you have been here, unless you are me, you literally cannot tell me that the way I feel is wrong. Keep your opinions to yourself.
I should just explain one situation here so this slightly makes sense. Recently we had good news about being accepted at our new IVF clinic (yay, I am really pleased) but I was immediately really upset. Why? Because it was a reality check. It reminded me of how we are struggling, of how our bodies are unlikely to conceive the normal way, and of the incredible trauma I am going to have to put my body through in order to have a baby. So sometimes, my emotions and responses may not make sense to you, but please don’t tell me I am wrong in my feelings.
It is important to celebrate the little victories along the way.
These just keep you going. If you didn’t, life would be pretty awful. When you get an appointment through (despite what I said above!), celebrate. When you get good results, celebrate. Anything. No matter how small, should be celebrated.
It’s ok to have good days.
Sometimes I feel bad when I am having fun and actually enjoying myself. There are times when these are few and far between. And other times where it goes on a little longer. But it makes me feel like I don’t care, or I worry that those around me think I don’t want a baby that much. Like with it all, no one else’s opinion matters, and it is great news if you can have good days :D!
There is so much for me to be grateful for.
My husband, family, cat, friends, job, my home, my Church, my God. I have so much.
Having friends who have experienced infertility is beyond important.
Ah, this. This is without a doubt, probably the most important one. They know, they’ve been there, they get your rants, they understand the seemingly totally irrational thoughts. They just get it. And they are there for you in ways that no one else could be. If you’re reading this and this is you, THANK YOU from the very depths of my heart. God truly blessed me with you and your friendship and your loving support.
It is just as important to have friends who had it easy too.
Please don’t misinterpret what I am saying. When I say ‘easy’, I am talking simply from my narrow-minded, infertile, broken head. When you got pregnant after 1 month, 2 months, 3 months, or even without trying etc…. To me, that was ‘easy’. I am not talking about labour. I am not talking about post-natal depression. I am not talking about the challenges in bringing up children. I am talking about getting pregnant.
It is important to have these friends too for me because they [unknowingly] help me to dare to dream. I see them with their families and the tell me of their labour stories and I see their beautiful family pictures on Instagram and they tell me how hard it is being a parent. But it helps me to dream and see past this, and dream that one day I will have that beautiful or horrific labour (I don’t care what type of labour, any labour is good to me!), I dream that one day I will be able to post my pictures onto Instagram of my beautiful family growing. Friends, those of you who ‘had it easy’, I love you and your friendship is invaluable. Thank you for letting me into your life and seeing what ‘family’ is. You help me to keep my family dream alive!
Life is just not that easy.
And this is my final one. It doesn’t need an explanation, because infertile or not, we all know it. Life is just not that easy.
Journeying to Family 