As a teacher, it is my job to inform and teach the children in my classes about the world and how it works and how they find their way through the world.
But the longer I’ve been a teacher, the more I’ve realised that what we have to teach is great, but there’s whole host of real-life stuff that we don’t teach about.
When I was at school I learnt about sex, I learnt about the reproductive system, I learnt about pregnancy and I learnt how to put a condom on some sort of banana-y, wooden like thing.
But no one ever spoke about infertility.
No one mentioned in those sex ed classes that sex doesn’t always lead to a baby and that sometimes, just sometimes, trying to become pregnant will be the hardest thing you will ever willingly put yourself through.
It will come with emotional heartbreak and turmoil.
It will come with questions about why me? And did I do something wrong earlier in my life?
It will come with depressive thoughts and questions about if you actually want to be ‘here’ anymore (whatever that means).
It will come and it will break you and crush you and twist you in a way you didn’t know possible.
And it will be unexpected.
Because no one ever told you about it!
Now the good news is, as a teacher, I’ve seen the new Sex ed scheme that is becoming compulsory from September in England (RSE – Relationship and Sex Education).
And in that, there will be some mention of how some people have to use alternative methods for conception.
So hopefully one day, when many of my pupils grow up and decide to start a family, it may not come as such a shock when some of them struggle. Because that’s life.
No one also tells you about how the pain, the heartache, the stress of infertility will drip into the everyday of your life and quickly it can become a very dark place to be. How you can paint a smile on your face most days and not a single person around you will know whats happening to check your OK, only for you to drive home with tears streaming down your face and your stomach churning with desperation and devastation.
No one tells you that you will be a jealous, angry version of yourself that you never knew existed.
You don’t get told that hearing or seeing another pregnancy announcement, even if it’s your closest family members or friends, is difficult to respond to positively, that you will need time to process it and think about how to respond, that being told face-to-face that someone you love is having a baby can be the most heartbreaking news you will ever receive… but that you still feel happy for them, but it’s hard to express that joy and sadness all at once.
But also, no one tells you that you will find a community of people from all walks of life, who are completely different to you but who hold something in common with you… the inability to concieve or to stay pregnant. In person and on the internet via instagram, I’ve met some incredible, strong, inspiring women who have made my life richer for knowing them. They know what this journey is like, they know the curveballs it throws at you and they know those same pits that you find yourself in. I will be forever grateful for that community all the days of my life.
Journeying to Family 