Open Letter: To Childless but Trying

Dear childless but trying, 

Please stop thinking of yourselves as broken. You are not broken. I like to think of being infertile as being gifted. We are gifted in perseverance. We were chosen to walk the path of infertility because we have the perseverance to withstand what it takes to walk this path. This path is covered in thorns, sharp rocks, searing hot lava, and frigid dark spaces. We will overcome because we have too. We are also gifted in character, because if you don’t build any sort of character through this journey, then you were probably dead inside. To be able to handle the thousands of “When are you planning on starting a family” or the “Does the infertility come from you or your husband”. The constant advice from outsiders on how to conceive naturally will either trigger you or kill you. Thank you Aunt Geneva for explaining the sexual positions I should contort into after measuring my basal metabolic temperature. What’s that you say, Vaginal temperature is more accurate? Yes please, lets talk more about my bedroom habits and reproductive health obscure coworker. 

We have to learn how to handle the weirdos in the most intimate and awkward way. We learn which responses end the conversation the fastest, which means we have to be clever. You can choose to redirect. “Speaking of my vagina, how about those Broncos? I mean how does a team go from top ten to bottom ten in a matter of months?” 

You can choose to be dry and serious. “Actually, my sex life and reproductive organs are none of your business and I would ask you to never talk to me about this again.” (This was never a fun route for me. I chose the side eye uncomfortable response.)

Sheila’s standard. “Thank you for the advice but my shaman has been chanting over my husbands penis for 90 days and I really think this month it’s going to happen.” 

You’ve had to keep from crying after every in office pregnancy announcement. You’ve removed yourself from facebook because you can’t stand to see one more baby announcement, birth announcement or family picture so you say your doing a social media cleanse and to “please text if you need to get ahold of me.” FYI: No one ever texts or calls when you get off facebook. We are more invisible on social media than we think we our in our daily lives.

Fellow infertiles, we have the acting skills that is worthy of daytime television. “Oh My God Valarie, I am soooooooo excited that you are pregnant! (I’m dead inside) You will give birth to the most beautiful baby! (I hope it tears your vagina) I cannot wait to go to your baby shower. (I will never attend a baby shower till I die)” 

Also, can we talk about baby showers. You have been able to come up with a reasonable excuse to get out of baby showers for years. You give the best gifts that ship directly from amazon and never have to set foot into the nightmare of the baby shower. Yes please, may we guess how large your belly is? Can I please guess which melted candy bar is posing as baby poo? Could we please play ONE MORE GAME that reminds me I am a reproductive failure. 

Listen, regardless of our Soap worthy acting, we are in the middle of a shit show. Our friends and family fear us and walk on eggshells around us. We are a land mine that only needs a brush of a feather to detonate. 

Do not expect the people closest to you to understand. They will rarely say the right thing even though they have googled, “what to say to my friend who is infertile” a thousand times. Give them a break. Be honest with them, “I’m having a really hard day. I can’t hear one more pregnancy announcement. I just need to XYZ to energize and rebuild my heart.” 

Stop getting offended by well meaning people who have no clue what you are going through. Stop posting “10 things to say to infertile people” on your facebook page. You know and I know even if your people said these things, you would get offended. 

Ladies, you need to take care of yourself!! You need a friend who understands. If you don’t have a friend that understands, find one. It’s the age of the internet. Facebook is like an online dating for friends site. Find a group that matches your situation, introduce yourself and let them love on you. Look for other women going through infertility. You will recognize them by their fake smile and red post crying eyes. Find your people and hang onto them. 

Get into therapy. Talking it out with someone who can help you navigate your heartache will help you heal. You won’t put the pressure on others around you to make you feel better if you have a coach helping you feel better. Too expensive? Consider it fertility costs. Don’t think you need it? Consider it divorce prevention. Consider it suicide prevention. Consider it bitch prevention. Whatever you need to do to justify your therapy, just get there. Mental health is everything. So you tried therapy once and hated it? Try it again. Find someone new. Find someone you click with. You can’t afford it? Most insurance covers mental health. Science shows that psychotherapy works better in the long-term and is more enduring than medication. In fact, not only is it more cost-effective, but psychotherapy leads to fewer relapses of anxiety and mild to moderate depression than medication use alone. *** 

Get a massage! Get acupuncture! Get your nails done! Take care of yourself. This will save you from yourself. 

Listen, you are a badass. You are handling life punch by punch. Duck and cover my friend. Only you can make yourself feel better right now so give your friends and family a break. Give yourself the ability to take those punches by taking care of yourself. You don’t have to do it all, but you will need to figure out how to dissolve that angst before Aunt Sally asks for the 3 millionth if your biological clock is stuck. Do not punch Aunt Sally in the face, friend. She is a well meaning clueless woman who will likely make you the most beautiful quilt once you do become a mother. 

Also this;

You will become a mother.

I repeat. 

You WILL become a mother. 

One way or another, it will happen. 

Have faith. Give grace. And pray like a gay priest about to be outed by the church choir. 

With Love,

Sheila