I am not my Diagnosis

infertility

Today I was reading a fellow bloggers post about how infertility is shrouded in silence.  I commented that I am much more open about my infertility now that I have a child than when I was struggling to conceive.  She asked me why I thought that was and it really got me thinking.

When we first started trying to conceive I was so optimistic.  I never believed that I would have any issues.  All the women in my family are “breathe on them and get them pregnant” fertile.  My mom had four kids, 4 healthy pregnancies, and according to her it never took more than a month or two to get pregnant each time.  Her mom had 7 children, 8 pregnancies with 2 miscarriages and one set of twins, which was probably not all that uncommon at that time with prenatal care being nowhere close to what it is today.  In fact, my grandma suspected a twin pregnancy but the doctor didn’t know until she was in labor.

As for myself, after 7 failed cycles I began to grow concerned.  I was only 28 years old, why would I have this much trouble getting pregnant?  So I consulted an OB/GYN when I suspected that I don’t ovulate during my cycles.  I left that office with a prescription for Clomid and a diagnosis of infertility on my medical chart.  I remember the dichotomy of that day.  The diagnosis of infertility at the age of 28 filled me with despair, while the Clomid gave me a teeny glimmer of hope for the future.

I suffered mostly in silence, apart from my husband, I kept silent about my struggle.  Why?  I felt shame and embarrassment that I am a woman and I can’t make a baby.  I also felt foolish for assuming that I would have no issues.  For spending much of my 20’s being terrified of an unplanned pregnancy, like having a baby I didn’t plan for would be the worst thing I could imagine.  In reality, wanting a baby and not being able to have one was the most difficult thing I had ever encountered.

I opened up a little bit when I lost my first baby, an ectopic pregnancy, that resulted in the loss of my left ovary (due to a cyst likely from the Clomid) and fallopian tube.  In reality I only told my parents who told a good portion of my family against my wishes and a couple of close friends.  They knew what happened to me but they did not know the effect it had on me.  Again I was too embarrassed to really talk about it.  I feared that my marriage would crumble because I couldn’t give my husband the children we both wanted so badly.  At that exact moment, I really couldn’t have imagined what a rock my husband would be to me, seriously, that man is pretty amazing.

Sometime after I became pregnant for the second time, I really gave a lot of thought to the rationale behind my shame and embarrassment.  I had felt broken but I realized I wasn’t broken, things just weren’t going to be as easy for me as they are for some women.  I could have given up and let my diagnosis consume me.  I could have dwelled in my misfortune for years, as it was, it took 6 months after the loss of my first baby to get the courage to try again.  Something deep inside was saying “it’s not over until it’s over, kick infertility’s ass.”

I’ve become even more open about my infertility since the birth of my son.  As soon as he was born people immediately began to ask when we were going to have another.  I don’t know the reason exactly but I was just ready at that time to tell the truth, even to people I didn’t know well.

The truth was we weren’t 100% sure we wanted another baby and more so, we weren’t sure we could have another baby.  It took a long time for us to get pregnant, even longer to have a successful pregnancy.   We don’t know if we’ll get lucky again.  So that is where we are.  We’re hopeful that we can kick infertility’s ass one more time.

Advertisements

9 thoughts on “I am not my Diagnosis

  1. Erin says:

    I feel like I could have written this exact post! I started opening up about our struggles to conceive once we moved past medicated cycles and into the IUIs. It was just too much to keep to myself. And in turn I discovered so many women in my day to day life that unfortunately know pregnancy loss and infertility too. But the more we put it out there, the less taboo a topic it is! Now I’m very open about how we conceived and our plans for future kiddos.

    • ourmaybebaby says:

      That’s great that you’re talking about it. I totally agree, the more we talk about it the less taboo the subject is, of course I understand why some people don’t feel comfortable talking about it.

  2. AKL says:

    Nice post. I also think there is a lot of shame around infertility. I know I have felt at times like a failure as a woman. I mean women are fundamentally on the planet to procreate so if you can’t do that, what’s the point of you? I imagine menopause might invoke similar feelings (great! another thing to look forward to!). But also I find that sometimes when you do talk about infertility or miscarriage or whatever, people don’t understand or they minimise it so you end up feeling worse after you’ve talked about it than if you’d said nothing at all. At a certain point in all of this you realise that protecting yourself is the number one priority, but I can understand that after you have a child that this dissipates as you no longer feel a failure and also don’t have that same need to protect yourself. xxx

    • ourmaybebaby says:

      I completely agree with you. I love to see more people talking and being open about infertility because it has the potential to give them a greater support system but I hope each person does what they think is best for themselves.

  3. Danielle Ruff says:

    This post sums up my thought process while trying to get pregnant. I felt broken and like my husband would not want me anymore. I struggled with fear even though he continually told me he would never leave me.

  4. prettycuteovaries says:

    Our stories are at similar it’s eery! From our first pregnancies being ectopic, losing our left tube (I got to keep my ovary), to being so much more open about our journeys now. We are considering trying again this summer. A part of me is not ready to jump back into the craziness, but I now know firsthand how worth it it really is 😊 Hope you don’t mind if I follow. 👍

    • ourmaybebaby says:

      I always think it’s amazing when I find someone whose journey lines up so closely with mine. It’s a lot more common than I would have ever thought a couple years ago. Good luck with trying to conceive again! We’d love another child and Theodore was worth every bit of strife we went through but we’re both a little leery about doing this all again.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s