A Little Insight... Secondary Infertility

by Guest Contributor Lisa

photograph:  telegraph.co/uk

It’s day 38 and I’m still waiting for Mrs. Flow’s arrival even as I’m cursing her for torturing me once again.  You’d think after 40 months of going through this I’d stop hoping.  I try to calm my mind but any sliver of hope gets me planning out the next nine months.  I try to talk myself out of it all morning but the suspense is killing me, so I give in and load my 4 year old into our car and make the trip to the store for two pee sticks.  Sixteen dollars later I’m back in my bathroom.  Dragon Tales will be her distraction this time.  I take a deep breath and hope that month 40 will be different.  I’ve been pregnant before, after all, and I know what it feels like.  There have been hints I’ve been trying to suppress, but I can’t deny that I’ve been nauseous all week.  I’m 6 days late.  This could be it.  I try not to remember that I swore that same thing each month over the last 3 years plus.  I close my eyes while I wait and finally get brave enough to open them.  One line. “Dammit!” Getting mad usually keeps the tears away but it doesn’t work this time.  Luckily I get away with my daughter not catching my sob fest; I clean my face before the half hour distraction is over.  After all, it hurts her too, so I must put a smile on.

Infertility is infertility.  It may be that you have no children, one child or several.  Disappointment is our commonality.  We all feel the emptiness in our arms.  Secondary infertility is something I never expected to happen to us.  The tricky part is how to explain it correctly to our daughter who is also suffering the side effects of infertility: 

Why isn’t there a baby in your tummy, Mommy?
Are you pregnant yet?
Why am I the only one without a brother or sister?

Are you pregnant yet?
Why is Ava getting another brother when she already has one?

Why aren’t you pregnant? 

When will you have a baby in your tummy, Mom?

Are you pregnant yet?
Will I ever be a big sister?

At times I feel selfish when I talk to my friends who are also dealing with infertility and have no children.  Am I greedy for wanting more?  We are super grateful for our daughter.  We love her to pieces.  We will be content if she is all we ever get.  Our arms are full of love and laughter with her and yet why are there times that they feel empty at the same time?  It’s confusing.  It’s frustrating.  It’s a roller coaster. 

You never know who is suffering with infertility.  Perhaps we could better help each other if we had flashing signs floating over our heads: 

Think before you speak!
I just miscarried.

Beware! 
I’m an emotional wreck.
My period just started and I would have sworn I was pregnant

Proceed with caution.
I just saw my baby’s heartbeat in the ER only to hear the
pregnancy was ectopic and had to be terminated immediately.

Smiles Only.
I’m pregnant but not sure if everything is ok yet.

Hugs Please!
I want a baby so badly and have been told
I’ll never be able to get pregnant.

Back Away Slowly!
I just got the results from my infertility treatments;
they were unsuccessful.
 

Unfortunately, there are no outward warning signs.  I think those who suffer with infertility learn all too well that you never know what someone is enduring silently.  If you haven’t read Corinne’s “What to say and what not to say” list, go read it now.  If you’ve read it, read it again. 

We who suffer are on an emotional roller coaster like no other.  There are good days.  There are bad days.  There are days you wish you could forget.  My hope is that all who suffer on this roller coaster ride can one day exit it happily with more patience and lots of perspective for the future.

With love, 

Lisa (and family)

A Little Advice... Infertility

by Corinne

I am not going to give you advice on how to overcome infertility... if I had that magic answer, I'd be pretty rich by now (not that the money would make me any happier!)

Instead I wanted to address how to talk to someone struggling with infertility.  It seems like it is hard to know the right thing to say, or whether to say anything at all.  When I became pregnant with my second child, my sister-in-law was desperately trying to get pregnant, and it was really difficult for her to hear my news, not to mention rather awkward for me to know how to tell her about it.  I wasn't going to insult her by not telling her I was expecting, but how to do it delicately was complicated... I wanted to empathize with her pain and own my joy at the same time.  
Infertility seems to be everywhere. I wondered if it is more common now than it used to be, but this article says that fertility rates are pretty much the same as they were 50 years ago, and that it is an extraordinarily common disorder - 25% of women will experience an episode of infertility in their lifetime.   
I talked to my friend Jen, who is also a psychologist, about how to talk to someone about infertility.  Jen struggled for years to get pregnant.  She gave me permission to use some of her wise words on this very subject.
Here is a great summary what she said, along with some of my own editorials:

• Acknowledge that there is an elephant in the room... usually...