I have to say that I had no idea when I started how it would go. I didn't want it to come off as preachy, but I also didn't want to let the opportunity go by to educate. Many of my Facebook friends are very involved in politics and community service and public policy (I went to college in DC, what do you expect?) so I knew it was a chance to spread the word about infertility to an audience with potential influence. Even after continually pruning my Facebook friends, I still have 552 friends. That's a potentially large audience for my posts. I wanted to capture attention without being dismissed as politically motivated or requesting pity.
I received over 200 "likes" combined between my posts, and 26 comments as of now. Several friends have messaged me to tell me that they, too, are struggling with infertility privately (or at least not on Facebook), and several others have called and texted and messaged me to express support. The response has been overwhelmingly supportive and I do believe several people are more informed now than they were before. I'll call that a win!
The best part was how cathartic it was for me. I truly feel better than I have in months after this week. I had no idea that's how it would go down. I think putting our struggle in words and out in front of the public eye was validating to all the fears and pain I've gone through. It also was my own personal soap box to pontificate on the unfairness of infertility and the various annoying and poorly informed comments I've heard throughout the process.
So here's the rest of this week's posts (I didn't get around to posting on Friday... whoops!). As always, if you are going through or have gone through infertility and would like to use some of my words in your own NIAW posts on Facebook, please feel free to do so with a big hug from me. If you are going to repost on a blog, please link back to my blog and give credit for sharing some of my words. I am happy to put our shared struggle into words, if it helps you express your own feelings on it.
Without further ado, here's the rest of my week's posts:
Tuesday:
(The paraplegic bit is not my original work. I don't know who wrote the list to give credit to, so if this is yours, please let me know in comments and I will gladly link to your original piece!)
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I am posting each day to bring awareness to the condition and those of us fighting the good fight.
"So, what do you think people would say to you if you were paraplegic instead of infertile?"
1. As soon as you buy a wheelchair, I bet you'll be able to walk again!
2. You can't use your legs? Boy, I wish I was paralyzed. I get so tired of walking, and if I were paralyzed I wouldn't have to walk anywhere!
3. My cousin was paralyzed, but she started shaving her legs in the other direction and she could walk again. You should try that.
4. I guess God just didn't mean for you to be able to walk.
5. Oh, I know exactly how you feel, because I have an ingrown toenail.
6. Sorry, we don't cover treatment for paraplegia, because it's not a life-threatening illness.
7. So... when are *you* going to start walking?
8. Oh, I have just the opposite problem. I have to walk walk walk - everywhere I go!
9. But don't you *want* to walk?
10. You're just trying too hard. Relax and you'll be able to walk.
11. You're so lucky... think of the money you save on shoes.
12. I don't know why you're being so selfish. You should at least be happy that *I* can walk.
13. I hope you don't try those anti-paralysis drugs. They sometimes make people run too fast and they get hurt.
14. Look at those people hiking... doesn't that make you want to hike?
15. Just relax, you'll be walking in no time.
16. Oh do my legs hurt, I was walking and walking and going up and down the stairs all day.
17. I broke my leg skiing, and was on crutches for weeks, and was worried I'd have a permanent limp, but I'm 100% healed.
18. I'd ask you to be in my wedding party but the wheelchair will look out of place at the altar.
19. You're being selfish, not coming on the hike with us, and looking at all of my track & field trophies.
20. Don't complain, you get all the good parking places.
21. If you just lose weight your legs will work again.
22. If you would just have more sex, you could walk!
23. You don't know how to walk? What's wrong with you? Here let a real man show you how to walk!
24. You are just trying too hard to walk. Give up, and then you'll walk.
25. Here, touch my legs, then you'll walk!
26. Just take a vacation, and the stress-break will be sure to get you walking!
I've heard many versions of most of these comments myself. If you wouldn't say it to a paraplegic, don't say it to an infertile person. Unless you've been through the exact same thing, you don't know how it feels. And someone else's success story is not usually as hopeful or inspirational as you may think.
A simple "I am sorry you are going through this and am here if you need to talk" is plenty to support someone going through this! Anything else might be unintentionally hurtful.
Wednesday:
It's National Infertility Awareness Week, and I am choosing to post every day to raise awareness for a condition that affects 1 in 8 couples, most of whom struggle quietly. My husband and I are 1 in 8. And I don't think I have ever done anything quietly!
I wanted to take this post to mention the often forgotten warriors of this condition. As a woman, I am the victim most people think of when they think about infertility. And yes, I am the one who has to live in a body that has betrayed me, and I am hyper aware of every ache and twinge. I cannot escape it. I am the visible victim of infertility as I wear stretch pants due to swollen sore ovaries and my lower abdomen bruised from shots to stimulate my ovaries and give us a better chance at success after so long. Yet I am not the only one in this battle.
Some joke that men have it easy with this condition, and while they don't typically have dozens of needles poked into them each month, I cannot tell you how hard this has also been on my husband. Not only does he want a baby every bit as badly as I do, he also gets his hopes up right along side me each month, but then has to handle his disappointment quickly with another failure to comfort me. Yet he is unceasingly optimistic, which buoys me through my worst days.
He is my emotional rock. He holds me as I cry and gives me space to process the ugly days. He never complains about the mountains of vitamins I stuff into his weekly pill box, or the doctor appointments where he is required to attend and miss work. He balances our budget so we can afford month after month of treatment. He handles my hormonal roller coaster and my single-minded focus on our struggles with love and affection. He is delicate and loving as he carefully stabs me with a needle each night, kissing the spot after. He is insistent that he does not care how we become parents - through medical procedures, adoption, kidnapping (kidding!) - but that he knows it will happen somehow one day.
I honestly did not know my husband was nearly this wonderful when I married him. He has blown me away with his compassion and love. I just know that I would not have the strength to keep hope alive without his support, love, and strength. And I know more than ever that he will make a fabulous father one day.
Men are victims of infertility, too. They may not react openly, but this condition is tough on everyone. It is especially tough on a relationship. I am incredibly lucky to say we are weathering this storm together.
I love you and appreciate you more than you will ever know, sweetheart.
Thursday:
I have been posting every day this week for National Infertility Awareness Week. Because we are 1 in 8 couples struggling to have a child, and because infertility is not a bad word, it does not define me, is not at all shameful, and it is okay to talk about.
Today's message is a simple one. Those suffering cannot make it without the love and support of friends and family. Sometimes infertility brings former strangers together to commiserate over a painful struggle. Sometimes incredibly special friendships are created and cemented for life. For all the support we have received from so many, I say thank you. We infertiles remember who is there for us time and time again. We know we're not a lot of fun when all we can talk about is fertility treatments and depression, and we appreciate those who stick with us through the rough patches.
"Coming out" this week on Facebook has been an incredibly cathartic and therapeutic experience for me, far more than I could have imagined. To each of you who has called, texted, emailed, responded, "liked" a post, or messaged me this week, I cannot tell you how much your support means to me. Thank you for letting me share our story, and for embracing us as we struggle. To those of you who are fighting similar demons, it helps me to know we are not alone, and I hope it helps you to know that I am always here to talk or just listen or cry or celebrate when one of us finally, finally succeeds.
If you know or suspect someone is going through infertility and don't know how to talk to them about it, here's a great link to some fabulous suggestions (and I'm always happy to talk about it): http://www.resolve.org/
Saturday:
Thank you all for letting me recognize National Infertility Awareness Week. It was therapeutic for me, and I hope that I made even a little progress in getting the word out that infertility is an actual medical condition, that it's more common than you'd likely believe, that treatment is expensive and insurance in the US is woefully inadequate in its coverage for testing and treatment, and that emotional support is essential.
If you know 8 couples who have kids, chances are at least one of them took longer than a year to conceive and/or required medical intervention for it to happen. And chances are they've never told you.
If you know a couple who has been together a long time, don't ask when they plan to have kids - they very well may be struggling privately. Honestly, don't ask anyone that question. You never know what they might be going through.
If you know someone having a tough time, and they have tried on their own for 12 months (or 6 months if over 35 years old), please encourage them to see a Reproductive Endocrinologist for testing. An OB/GYN is great at pregnancy but not as familiar with the hormones and function of the reproductive system.
Don't tell someone going through infertility to "just relax" and that "it will happen when you stop thinking about it." That's not only very likely wrong, it's insulting and hurtful. If someone told you they had cancer or diabetes, you wouldn't give them that advice. It makes it sound like it's somehow their fault for not being relaxed enough. That's just simply not true.
Infertility is a real medical condition. There are always real medical reasons why conception hasn't happened (whether or not testing can uncover it). Respect that.
Infertility also does not (usually) mean barren, just less likely to conceive - anecdotal evidence of someone who tried for 8 years and finally conceived is a result of incredibly low odds replayed over and over and over and finally winning the lottery. It doesn't mean they were somehow misdiagnosed - it means they're infertile and got very lucky. It also doesn't usually give hope to other people battling infertility to hear stories like that. Avoid "I know this one person who..." stories. Usually not helpful at all.
I hope beyond hope that this is our last National Infertility Awareness Week without a baby (or at least being pregnant), but I know it's entirely possible we'll still be fighting this battle in a year. However, infertility has broken pieces of me, and while I may be able to glue it back together, I will forever wear the emotional scars, so I will always support the infertility community.
Regardless of whether we get pregnant this month or in 10 months, whether we have a biological baby or adopt, I know that this struggle will someday be resolved in some way. I look forward to that, and we will keep getting up to fight again after every time we get knocked down with another failure until we finally find an answer.
Thank you all for your kindness, sympathy, and understanding. Your support means the world to both of us. You've given me strength this week with your "likes", comments, messages, and phone calls. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
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