From The Broken Brown Egg |
Picture it, Sicily, 2010,
Ann, 26, has been trying to get pregnant for a year. Her husband assures her that it is okay, and that they will go for fertility workups after another six. He doesn’t quite get what she’s so worried about since his mom had him at 33 with no problem and believes they have plenty of time to grow their family. Ann isn’t so sure and feels upset that he is blowing off her fears. Though she’s the only person in her group of friends that is married, she’s also the only one without any children.
Felicia, 37 has had it up to here with the infertility journey. She and her partner, Brianna, 40, have had two miscarriages and rounds of IVF between them, and are now taking a break even-though they know that at their age, the idea of waiting could seriously cancel their hopes for a baby of their own.
Lisa and her husband Terrence have been married for five years. After two years of trying, Terrence finally let go of his pride and gave in to Lisa’s pleading that he go in for a workup. As Terrence feared, the problem is with him and he’s been diagnosed with azoospermia(no sperm). Though they want a biological child, they are now forced to think about what other options there are. Lisa considers donor sperm, which Terrence emphatically refuses to allow.
Chris, 30, has never been married. What she has been, is suffering from long, painful, heavy periods. All through high-school and even younger, her mother told her things like “that’s why they call it the curse”, and other little jokes, but never treated the situation seriously. Doctors usually just gave her birth control pills to control the bleeding without much more diagnosis. Chris has been dating Shaun for two years and they are seriously considering marriage. To stop taking her pills though, could bring back her period, so she doesn’t know if she wants to do that. Also, now she’s reading up and discovering that those heavy periods could have been much more serious than she thought. She’s already thirty, five years from “advanced maternal age”, and now she feels like someone should have told her sooner that there could be something wrong.
Every single scenario I’ve created above can be traced to a real situation I’ve heard from a real person. Some of the things are jumbled around, but make no doubt, these are REAL issues people are facing. Each story breaks my heart on different degrees, but each one is VERY real to the person who is dealing with it. For that reason, I pose this question?
“Has your story caused you to become prejudiced of other people’s stories?”
If you have paid over 40k for your medicines and treatments, is there a small part of you that looks down your nose at someone who is only on round 2 of a $15 Clomid prescription?
Does your having had a 2nd-trimester miscarriage make you MORE sad than someone who may have miscarried at 6 weeks?
When you visit personal infertility blogs, do you find yourself not giving credibility until you’ve read which cycle they are on? How about whether or not they’ve been to an RE yet?
Is another woman’s fear of being infertile less valid than your diagnosis of infertility?
Do you turn your nose up at women who already have a child, but are struggling to get a second?
Do you believe that just because you’re married, your struggle means more than a single woman who wants a child as well?
Does a lesbian deserve LESS emotional support than you because she chooses to raise a family with her female partner?
If so, please grab a stone at the door and locate your nearest glass house.
This is yet another area where I feel it is imperative that we begin self-evaluating. This thing is REAL, to whomever is going through it, at whatever stage they are in the fight. You can’t judge someone else’s pain to make yours more plausible. Doesn’t that make you JUST like those who may have used the infertility profanity (“Just Relax”), on you? Your downgrading someone else because they haven’t gone through as much as you is similar to a woman with five kids that she can’t control getting upset with YOU for wanting a baby.
As lonely as infertility is, it should be the goal of each of us that we find a way to embrace one another in this awareness movement. This should be done regardless of whether they’ve “put in as much time”, money, or effort as you feel you have. And remind yourself, other people do not OWE you the privilege of knowing the liner notes to their situation so be careful who you judge, they may have been through more than you think. If they ask for your support, give it, in whatever (non-financial) manner they say that they need it.
It’s REAL.
For any and everyone touched by infertility in any way, it is REAL.
And pain is pain, no matter how it manifests.
I often believe that this prejudice comes from "fear" and "pride" put together. "Fear" because of really not knowing what would happen with the decisions made. Fear because feeling like it's your fault that the situation is what it is. Fear because the feeling of wanting to have a child so bad might in some way bring problems when the child is born.
Pride because no one wants to admit that their having trouble trying to make a baby. Either way, these are all examples of what can eventually make us stronger as individuals and as partners in a relationship, but we're too afraid of the repercussions that may come along. I say the best way to reduce the prejudice is by continuing to confront it. In order to change something, you have to confront it at all costs. If you believe in it that much, stand up for it and trust that God is giving you an opportunity at something great.
Very well said, Dude.