National Infertility Awareness Week

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. This Sunday also marks the one your anniversary of Baby E’s due date. I think it’s fitting that the two will always be intertwined. Even though we are past the days of injections, ultrasounds, lab work, and invasive procedures, we are constantly reminded of what it took us to get here. We have friends who still struggle with infertility everyday. Our phones give us reminders that 4 years ago we were in cycle for Scarlett and Clark. Or that 8 years ago I was having a saline sonogram done. Or that E’s due date anniversary is in 2 days. Even without the visual reminders, our history of infertility is always in my mind just below the surface.

We are fortunate to have positive memories of our days battling infertility. Yes there was pain, yes there was loss, yes it was hard on us and our marriage, but we made it out with 5 beautiful children. Not everyone is that lucky. Not everyone has success. IVF is not a guarantee for a child. Adoption is not a guarantee for a child. For many people medical procedures and private adoption aren’t even an option. It cost us over $30,000 to build our family, and that was with insurance for 2 cycles. Those costs are on the low end, by the way. Some couples have to pay $30,000 or more for a single cycle. I will never regret spending that money because it brought us the children we have today, but it’s ridiculous that it costs so much to pursue medical care for treating infertility. Domestic adoption can be just as expensive and there’s no guarantee you’ll end up with a baby.

Aside from the financial burden of infertility, there are many physical and emotional hardships. While I didn’t love IVF, because who wants to give themselves injections 3 times per day, I also didn’t hate it. I was fortunate to respond well to the medication and not end up with any complications. We had text book retrievals and transfers. Again, not everyone is that lucky. Poor response to medications, over response to medications, Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome, canceled cycles, procedure complications. It’s scary when you really think about what all it entails. Going through my surgery history after dealing with infertility is almost laughable. Before infertility, 1 surgery. After infertility, 7 surgeries. Yes 3 of those are c-sections, but let’s be honest, if it weren’t for IVF we wouldn’t have 2 sets of twins and more than likely wouldn’t have needed c-sections.

The emotional toll is in my opinion the hardest part of infertility. There is such a stigma surrounding infertility. This stigma causes feelings of shame in many infertile couples. Even as someone who has been very open about our battle with infertility, I often found myself hesitant to tell strangers that we have 2 sets of twins because then the questions start. Most of the time people are well meaning, but often times they’re just nosey and rude. Even well meaning loved ones often times don’t know what to say and end up making hurtful comments. As much as you might think your story about “your friend’s Aunt Becky who finally got pregnant once she relaxed while on vacation in Italy,” is going to help reassure someone, it’s not. The best thing you can say to someone battling infertility is, “I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m here if you need me.” I promise they’re already going through enough emotional turmoil. The last thing you want to do as their friend is add to that by making a comment that may upset them. I cried when my sister told me she was pregnant. I cried when my best friend told me she was pregnant. It’s not that I wasn’t happy for them, because I was ecstatic for both of them, but I also had to process my heartache, longing, and even jealously that it still hadn’t happened for us and we didn’t know if it ever would. Those feelings I experienced are a part of me now and don’t disappear just because we’ve had our successes.

It took us 13 years to get pregnant on our own. If we wouldn’t have been able to afford treatment, that would’ve been 156 months of disappointment after disappointment. Quite possibly the best decision I’ve made for my mental sanity when it comes to infertility was deciding to have my fallopian tubes removed. Not just tied, but removed so there’s no physical way for us to get pregnant on our own. I think I would still be wondering every month if “maybe we might be pregnant,” if we hadn’t totally taken that option off the table. Even though we know we are done having kids, that end of month hoping has been such a part of who I am for so long that I don’t think I would’ve been able to get past it without knowing it’s a physical impossibility.

This has very much turned into a long and rambling post, but this is where my mind has taken me as I think back on our journey and on the journey of those who are still in the thick of it. One day the stigma will be gone and adoption or infertility benefits will be available to everyone. We are not there yet, and until we are, and even after we are, it’s important to share our stories of struggle and loss as we build our families. We are 1 in 8.