Reproductively Challenged and Fabulous
As we all work to support and navigate fertility struggles, I’d like to take the opportunity to normalize this experience for others and share my own experience.
My Fertility Journey
I distinctly recall the moment when my husband and I walked into the elevator of the fertility clinic in Providence for the first time. Correction- dragged my deflated goddess ego and heavy heart into the metal vessel tail between my legs. At the time, I was 36. My husband and I had been giving it the old college try “to conceive” for two years with no success and we finally waved the white flag. Fortunately, we ran into a couple in the elevator that we knew from our town of Newport. I was like, well thank god we’re not the only ones going through this. They were super supportive, acknowledged us right away, briefly shared their fertility journey, and offered to be there for support if needed. It was incredibly human and lovely.
Cut to: me sitting with my fertility doctor weeks later after having had all of the testing and procedures completed. I was diagnosed with DOR (Diminished Ovarian Reserve), to which I just about blurted out DUH! I think back on what the doctor said to me: “So, because you are a geriatric patient and based on your labs and testing I believe you are a good candidate for IVF. However, since insurance wants to see several failed trials of IUI before they will cover IVF, we will need to go that route for a bit.” We learned I would have roughly less than a 5% chance of getting pregnant from IUI.
WTF?!
Not only is my 50-something female fertility doctor referring to me as ‘geriatric’, a term I didn't expect to be called until achieving Golden Girl status, but now I have to ingest potentially unnecessary ineffective hormones for several rounds? All of this because my insurance is lame and wants to play the mega million odds that I might get pregnant via a cheaper alternative. Fabulous.
The Fine Print of Fertility Struggle
For those of us who have or are going through it, it’s no secret that the medical science world of family planning is a part-time job. Injections and daily medication aside, it is critical that you drive to the clinic multiple times per week during the middle of your workday for not-so-fun invasive procedures, some of which can be particularly traumatic. I remember asking this very kind nurse whose hand I was cutting off circulation from during my HSG (Hysterosalpingogram) if they had a protocol for survivors of sexual trauma for this procedure. She said there was, which I was relieved to hear, that the patient was allowed to dictate the pace of the procedure and they would stop at any point to allow the patient a chance to recover before resuming.
On my journey, I also required two polypectomies on my uterus after the first one failed due to not being able to locate the polyp the first time. This procedure, requiring anesthesia and a lot of pain, was just one of many events that made this already painful journey harder. Luckily, after taking yet another day off of work for the second round, they were able to remove the polyp - likely the main culprit of my inability to conceive.
Where is the support we really need?
Amidst some of the more stressful and traumatic events of my fertility struggles, It would have been kind and appropriate if doctors had offered me a consult with a social worker in case I might require some additional support for the social/emotional rollercoaster I was about to go on. Luckily, I had a therapist at the time albeit one who made it clear she knows nothing about infertility because she had all of her children without any issues but was able to hold space and demonstrated beautiful empathy for my journey. Plus, I am fortunate to have several friends who have been through the journey before and were willing to be a guiding light and sympathetic ear.
If you’re currently navigating fertility struggles and don’t have the kind of support you feel you need, I invite you to join in on my Free Fertility Support drop-in on May 8th at 7:30pm.
A Spectrum of Emotions
Family planning for someone that is reproductively challenged is vastly complicated, not just physically, but emotionally. From the Instagram updates of friends’ baby bumps that you’re truly happy for but also equally annoyed AF that it’s in your face and it happened when ‘ we weren’t evening trying!” Yes, you can feel both joy, envy, and grief and that’s all okay. Every month the light of hope dims and dims as you try your hardest to make a human and you are continually reminded that It’s just not my time and the universe has a plan. You start thinking back to everything you ever put in your body over the course of your fertile years and imagine how it might have negatively impacted your reproductive tract. You try to overcompensate with taking herbs and supplements aimed at boosting fertility like Royal Jelly. You blame and shame yourself into oblivion before realizing that’s not helpful nor is it conducive to your fertility. You might repeat this vicious cycle until you get to the space of acceptance.
“This is just my journey. It is what it is.”
Finding Acceptance
There is real freedom and humility in the experience of acceptance.
In any phase of life or situation when we can accept reality as it is without judgment, we are then free to move forward and exist mindfully in the present moment, make better decisions and ultimately feel better about ourselves, our bodies and our situation. As a yoga instructor and now reiki master, striving to be mindful was my MO so I could connect with that.
I started following hashtags like #IVFwarrior for some extra support. Anyone going through the trauma of fertility struggles is a warrior in my opinion. All women are. If you consider all we have endured for thousands of years. With social stigma around fertility and the pressure to procreate, women were often entirely blamed and ostracized from their communities for being infertile despite the fact that men are 50% to ‘blame’ for the problem. Because women are a symbol of fertility, it’s only natural to expect that our bodies will do what they are biologically designed to do. However, when that body repeatedly fails you (for whatever reason) month after month, year after year it’s easy to feel like you’re defective and slip into a situational depression grieving the fertility that you may have had in your younger years.
Tools to help you through one step at a time
What I realized through this experience is that it is necessary to take each step, and each day, one at a time or you will easily get overwhelmed and riddled with anxiety. Also and most importantly, shifting the way you approach yourself and your fertility to self-love, compassion, and nurturing. This is not only critical for your mental health, but it just feels better. Try mothering yourself the way you would mother your own child. That’s right, bring on the self care and love the $h*t out of yourself throughout this process no matter what the outcome is for you in the long run. Talk to yourself with kindness, compassion and if it feels good to you, maybe envision yourself already a mother. After all there are many ways to become a mother even if it’s not exactly how we imagine it to be.
Acknowledge your body as beautiful and strong.
Consider boundary setting, Say “NO” to anything that doesn’t serve you
Check in with yourself
Rest and put your feet up whenever you can
Make time for exercise to keep anxiety at bay
I had to take a hard look at the job I was in at the time. Working at a busy mental health clinic in New Bedford with a long commute and a massive caseload probably wasn’t good for my uterus. Whatever you can take off of your plate to keep your cortisol level in check-do it! Unnecessary obligations, stressful jobs, people that drain you- I give you permission as a therapist to just say NO to anything that doesn’t serve you. I credit switching jobs and focusing on self love to the fact that I was able to have a successful pregnancy through IVF. I am very grateful to say that I have a happy and healthy 3-year-old son, Teddy, born of the only viable embryo I had.
To all of the “RCF” mammas out there: whether you have the desire to be a mother or are trying for another and struggling, I see you. I honor you. I stand with you.