Brain Vs Heart: Infertility
Okay, folks. You know I don’t reblog a lot. So, if I do it’s serious. Okay, a Muppet Venn diagram is not serious, but you know what I mean. My post today was written with the fertility treatment experience well behind us. Read this post by kaeporagaebora for a brutally honest account of what it’s like to deal with it as it happens. Everything she writes is exactly how it feels. She’s dead on.
I have to say this. My chest just feels so tight. I need to get this out.
I don’t like to talk about my infertility. Sometimes my anger and bitterness leaks out in pissy facebook statuses degrading single teenage moms or sometimes I’ll just bitch about it in general and delete the status/twitter…
A Fertile Topic
Okay, I’ve wanted to write about this for a long time, but I didn’t really know how. I recently realized, however, that a handful of readers might find this useful/encouraging/whatever. So, here goes…
Boone and Wyatt came into our lives because of fertility treatments. My wife and I used fertility treatments because we had trouble maintaining a pregnancy. And when I say trouble, I mean trouble — three specialists on two coasts over seven years, multiple failed attempts, five recorded miscarriages, plus at least two more that didn’t even make it to the stage where it could be considered a miscarriage. But believe me, they were miscarriages.
The extremely frustrating thing about it was nobody could tell us what was wrong. We baffled all the doctors to whom we were paying shitloads of money. I checked out okay, my wife checked out okay. We had no trouble getting pregnant, we had trouble staying pregnant.
Aside from essentially mourning a death or two each year, coping with infertility was — and is — a lonely, lonely place. Even if you’re fortunate enough to see the glimmers of humor in the terrible situation, you can’t share them with anybody because if they haven’t gone through it, they simply don’t understand the depth of the depression you have to fight out of every day and, if they have been through it, they don’t want to hear other people bitching about it, too. Sword, thou art double-edged.
In fact, if you have a friend or family member dealing with fertility issues, here’s a handy list of things you should never, ever say to them:
- “You guys just need to relax.”
- “You guys just need to go on a vacation.”
- “You guys just need to get drunk and fuck.”
- “My sister had trouble getting pregnant, now she has two beautiful kids.”
- “Have you thought about adopting?”
For the record, that last one shouldn’t be mentioned because adoption is not a solution to infertility. It is a solution to wanting to be a parent. While one does affect the other, they are not the same. Also for the record, my wife and I did look into adoption, but not as a replacement for a child we couldn’t have. All the other items in the above list shouldn’t be mentioned because they are non-medical solutions to a medical problem. You wouldn’t tell a person with cancer that they just need to go on vacation. Don’t be an idiot.
All that said, stress is certainly a factor. Stress affects the body and can make it hard to get or stay pregnant. Of course, if you have trouble getting or staying pregnant, that’s stressful. Hello again, sword.
I joke about it with my wife, but it does bother me a bit that neither one of us was even in the room when my guys were technically conceived. So, when I’m feeling frisky and people tell me God blessed me with two beautiful boys, I correct them by saying, “Well, God, our checkbook and Dr. Rosen blessed us with these boys.”
I know some of you readers are going through this now. I just wanted to tell you you’re not alone. There are people all around you who deal with this in silence, just like you. It sucks, but you’ll be okay. Stay strong. Have hope.
I have two kids, 4 and 8, by this point in our lives I expected everything to kind of mellow out and all of us co-exist as a family instead of 100% child-care. At what point do you think you'll reach that place?
Asked by bujnik
When you reach sweet, merciful death.
I made a joke to my dad once about how I’ll finally get to return to my worry-free lifestyle when the boys turn 18. He looked at me and calmly said, “It never ends.”
And for the record, both my sister and I are closer to middle age than college age so, if he’s still worrying about us, that’s saying something. Although, to be fair, both of us are incredibly immature.
If you had unlimited money and the brains to carry out scientific research on any topic at all, what would you research and why?
Asked by thenerdangels
I know I always say “ask me anything,” but you people do know this is a parenting blog, right? I guess my answer could be parenting related… but, it’s not.
If I had unlimited money, incredible smarts and felt like wasting those two things on scientific research instead of buying some vast Caribbean island on which I would do nothing but read Dashiell Hammett novels and use discarded pizza boxes to construct elaborate dioramas depicting scenes from the Battle of Arretium, I would probably try to perfect this whole jet pack thing.
Contrary to complaints, they do exist, but they’re super heavy and use large propellers instead of jets. As I once said regarding this subject: The future is here and it blows. I want a working version of the kind The Rocketeer uses, so I would spent countless millions trying to work out how to make a jet that burns cold rather than hot, so we can finally fly to work without burning our khakis.
Either that or I’d cure cancer or something.
I think this is only my second reblog ever, but it’s totally worth it… Okay, not totally, but kinda.
is there anyone you would like to reach out to but feel you cannot at the moment?
(Question by wetalk… he asked me a series of questions like this. I assume he got them from a random question generator or he’s just very creatively inquisitive.)
I would like to reach out to Jim Henson and tell him a single red Muppet hijacked his beautiful ensemble. I can’t reach out to him at the moment, however, because he’s dead.
