(Note: Children mentioned. The purpose of this post is to raise awareness about the difficulties of IF. It may be hard for you to read if you are still on your IF journey.It’s not my desire to cause more pain! My heart is still very much with my sisters and brothers walking this road. Please don’t read it if it would cause you distress.)
I’m coming in on the tail end of National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW) but I have to add my two cents.
Last night as Sean and I were driving home from Bangkok, we were talking about Kids and how exhausted we are. There are days when we’re emotionally and physically exhausted, and we just have to keep going. We collapse at the end of the day with a child on each arm; alone time and couple time is a rare commodity.
But we wouldn’t trade it. We remember the days – the years – we couldn’t have children. We longed for a child, but each month we experienced the loss of hope again, the death of a dream that for some reason could not be fulfilled. The Loss and The Grief continued for years. Each month it was a fresh loss, and the grief deepened. Continual and unending.
A good friend and colleague has been impacted by infertility. Her and her husband are our parent’s age, and they offered us support and encouragement as we walked the Road of Infertility. I remember her telling me that although eventually you do come to terms with Infertility and cope better (eg. When the ‘child bearing years’ are over), the pain and grief never leave you. Age doesn’t put an end to it. In some ways it can deepen the wound. The way she put it was, “Grandmothers are even more ruthless than mothers!” People make stupid, unfeeling comments that open the wound again. After a few years respite from the pain, once again you come to a place where your sense of belonging shifts. You were unable to be part of the “Mother’s Club” as a young woman, and now you’re excluded from the “Grandmother’s Club”.
This insight from my friend was a catalyst for our decision to seek infertility treatments. I didn’t know what disease caused my infertility, but I decided it was time to find out and fight it. And I’m so glad that I did. My children are the joy of my life. Everyday I laugh and cry with them; I feel a strength and depth of emotion that sometimes scares me. There are days when I am so exhausted and sleep deprived that I feel I can’t go on. There are days when I just sit and look at my kids, wondering ‘How do I respond to that?’ Do I laugh? Cry? Get angry? I’m so overwhelmed by this responsibility. When I first became a parent, I very seriously said, ‘This is much more than I bargained for. Is there are return policy?’ I’m glad there isn’t.
As Sean and I talked, we realized that the hardest experience we have ever endured is Infertility. Constant death of hopes and dreams, leading to unending grief, is an unbearable weight to live under. And you can’t just ‘get over it’ as many people expect you to – the Bible states that “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life” Prov 13:12. Truthfully, being Mum to a rambunctious Almost Three Year Old and demanding Eleven Month Old has it’s own challenges, but it is far easier than a life filled with ‘hope deferred’.
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