Keeping Secrets

When I first learned that I had infertility problems, I didn't tell my friends and kept it a secret from most of my family members. I felt awkward, weird, different...like a freak. All my friends were having babies, but I couldn’t. It pained me to see newborn babies cooing in their mothers arms. My heart ached.

As I learned more about infertility, I began to better understand that I wasn’t a freak. I had a medical condition. Ten to 15 percent of couples in the United States are infertile. Infertility is defined as not being able to get pregnant despite having frequent, unprotected sex for at least a year. It happens to 1 in 8 couples.

Eventually, I tired of hiding my fertility issues. I didn’t think I should have to feel bad because of my inability to sustain a pregnancy. It’s not like I could control the situation. I had a medical condition.

In the beginning, I kept my secret because I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me. Well, sometimes it's nice to have people's sympathy. There are times when I need to hear, "I'm sorry you're struggling with that."

Then, there are times when some people go overboard and look at me in horror like someone's been murdered. They say things like, "I'm so sorry. You must feel really depressed about that. Oh my God. Oh, no. I'm so so so sorry. That must be awful for you." Comments like that make me feel like they think I'm a freak or something. Maybe they are completely shocked and have absolutely no frame of reference from which to interpret what I've shared. I try to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they can't comprehend my experience, because they haven't had a similar experience. Typically that's the reaction I get from people I don't know very well. None of my family members or friends have ever reacted that way.

Recently I met a girl and she didn't know me from a hole in the wall. She kept going on and on about my pregnancy losses and I wanted to crawl under a rock. It was irritating to hear her moan and groan about “my” loss. Maybe she was trying to be sympathetic, but her reaction made me feel worse. I understand what's going on...most people are uncomfortable talking about infertility. And it can be just as uncomfortable to talk about for those of us who struggle with pregnancy loss and infertility. I've been struggling for more than five years trying to have children.

It's often a tough subject to talk and write about, but I'm finally able to share my thoughts, feelings and experiences related to pregnancy loss and infertility.

Why? I have had time to reflect and process. I'm tired of feeling like I am less than because I don't have children. I realize that I am more than my fertility. I am more than my ability to reproduce or lack of ability. That's not the only thing that defines me.

I wrote Infertility Journeys, Finding Your Happy Ending to encourage other women and men who struggle with unmet expectations and infertility to know they are not alone. You can find a happy ending. I want to encourage others to do their research, investigate their options, grieve their losses, take time to heal, focus on the positive things in their lives, know that having children is not the end all be all of our lives and if needed let go of failed expectations. There's much to say on this topic. I've been on this journey, trying to build my family, for a while. I hope others will join me in the conversation.

Please feel free to post comments and questions about pregnancy loss, miscarriages, ectopic pregnancies, stillbirths, grieving, IVF, IUI, semen tests, genetic testing, sperm retrieval and any other questions you might have about infertility. If I don't know the answer, then I can at least point you in the right direction.