I Am Not Crazy!...

Michael and I were able to go the Utah Infertility Awareness event today.  It was a great turn out for such a last minute event and all I could think about when I walked in was, “dang, a lot of malfunctioning wee-wees and who-whos in here!”  I went thinking I would not hear anything I didn’t already know but I was wrong.  I learned a lot about how to naturally enhance our fertility, even in regard to IVF.  Michael learned, he in fact, has a disease.  He wrote on his notepad, “Michael…you have a disease!”.  Again, infertility is a disease.  A disease is defined by an abnormality or dysfunction of any body system, in this case, the reproductive system.  This bugs me because it's the only disease that is not covered by insurance. We learned that the reason IVF is not covered by insurance is not because of the big, bad insurance companies but because employers opt not to pay the extra $2.50 per year, per employee that it would cost.  Microsoft, Harley Davidson, and Google all offer IVF insurance to their employees because the founders all were infertile. But, the best thing I learned today…I am not crazy, dramatic, or petulant!  This was confirmed by a board certified, 30 years in practice, M.D.  There was doctor that discussed infertility from an emotional perspective.  He summed up 22 months of emotions, thoughts, and heartbreak in 30 minutes and it’s perfectly normal.  I have questioned so many times why I feel the way I do.  I have asked myself if I deserve to feel so let down and question why I am so full of grief.  Is it okay for me to grieve over a child that I have never had?  The answer is yes.  He likened infertility to a close family member dying.  I was so relieved.  He said it is perfectly normal to grieve an unborn child because we are programmed to want to reproduce.  He related infertility to the Kubler-Ross model of the five stages of grief.  I have just studied grief and loss in my nursing fundamentals class and I have already recognized that I have been or am still going through these stages…denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

The speaker challenged us to look within ourselves and ask what we want exactly.  Was it just ultimately to raise a child?  To experience being pregnant?  He says some couples differ in this and I have explored my reasoning for wanting to do IVF and not move straight on to adoption.  I really do want to be pregnant.  I want the puking and the labor pains…I want it all.  Is that horrible?  It makes me feel so selfish but he reassured us that if that was our motive, than it was perfectly normal.  Sometimes, I absolutely do NOT feel normal.  I asked Michael about his motive, knowing he already knows mine.  He knows I desire to experience pregnancy and he said, "I want to be pregnant too, not me of course, but I want to experience you being pregnant".  Michael and I feel very strongly that we need to pursue this option before moving on to adoption, which is a very welcomed option.

I have lately wondered if I have lost myself in this long, agonizing process.  Some days, I feel I no longer have the brain capacity to even think about infertility anymore.  It’s exhausting to think about something every hour, of everyday.  Some days, I convince myself I could be happy just spoiling my nieces and nephews rotten and moving on from this, even though I feel so confident and positive about the entire process.  I learned this about grief…grief comes and goes with life experiences. Some event will remind us of a loss and the feelings return even many years later after the initial loss and grief resolution.  I am afraid infertility has changed me, permanently.  I no longer look at the world the same way.  But, maybe that’s a good thing?  Maybe it will always be apart of me, regardless of whether or not we have a child and however that may come about.  I have been brought so much closer to my husband and to my Heavenly Father, relying on them both to bring me though my darkest moments.

Perhaps no quote better captures the essence of dealing with infertility in a healthy manner than that of a participant in a study simply named, Infertility, where infertility is poignantly personified:

“My infertility resides in my heart as an old friend.  I do not hear from it for weeks at a time, and then, a moment, a thought, a baby announcement or some such thing, and I will feel the tug—maybe even be sad or shed a few tears.  And I think, “Ahh, there’s my old friend.”  It will always be part of me.