Well before we started trying to get pregnant, I remember having a slight anxiety creep over me whenever someone else announced they were expecting – it always seemed to be followed by some well-meaning individual who felt the need to turn to me and announce to the group “Uh oh, you’re next!”. I never understood that – why, particularly women – get the idea to start asking others “When are you going to have children?” Maybe it has to do with some sort of biological bonding need…I don’t really know.
Now, this same feeling is ten-fold. I am 34, my husband is 38, we’ve been married for three years, and now we carry the weight of being fertility challenged. We have my mother’s 60th birthday party coming up and this thought, of being asked by several family members, “How about kids for you?”, is starting to lurk its head. I know this party is not about me, I know the exciting news of coworkers expecting is not about me, I get that people mean no harm when they ask, but the dread is there. Where is the line of letting people into this ever so personal aspect of your life? It took me a year before I even told my mom, nearly the full two years before we told my mother-in-law. Sometimes I fantasize of yelling at the next person who asks us – telling them it’s been two years and has taken a toll – just to see the look on their face. I think I would get some satisfaction out of that.
The first person I told of our “woes” was my brother. He’s absolutely safe – I knew he was the one person who wouldn’t fall into the championing “It will happen to you – just RELAX” camp. I told him via email. It felt good – just to let a bit out, we no longer held the secret alone.
In May of 2014 I told my mom. I was away at a conference, my period came a week early and it was heavy, lasted only about a day or two. I thought it was odd, even to this day. While on the phone, my mother gave me the “wonderful” advice of “Just have a baby already, that will fix your cycle” – after rolling my eyes I told her that we were trying and that it had been nearly 10 months. I told her I did not want to discuss it further, unless I brought it up, and she obliged for a good part of that year. The cat was out of the bag. Again, it felt as if a bit of the weight had been lifted. Once we hit the one year mark some of my friends knew – now, not everyone knew the whole story, nor did they know how it really made me feel, I often downplayed the whole situation and kept that damn fake smile on and quickly changed the subject.
So, here’s the thing – I was at the point where I was comfortable giving away just a bit of information, it made me feel better, it was still a hopeful phase, right before the one year mark really isn’t terrible because yes, it’s taking longer than expected, but statistically, one would think it just means the following cycle could be THE ONE – because 98% of women will conceive in their first year of trying. We may have even had the timing off a few times, so okay, it will happen. But, now what? Another year later, 12 more cycles of disappointment. I didn’t think this far ahead. As upset as I have gotten with each cycle, I thought I would fall pregnant. I wouldn’t say I’m embarrassed, because no one should feel embarrassed over this, but I feel a certain way that other people know of our struggle.
So, should we share this information with others? Emotions aside, I think the answer is yes, I think we just need to choose wisely who we tell.
Part of me, actually a very large part of me, feels like a failure, a disappointment. Before, when only my husband and I knew of our challenge, at least I only felt like a disappointment to us – now I have a mother, father, and mother-in-law to add to this list. For me, it didn’t feel right not telling our parents – I knew they were wondering if we planned to have children – I know they want to be grandparents.
Do I regret saying anything to anyone? Should I have just kept it inside and repeatedly said I didn’t want kids? At times, knowing what I know now, I probably would have not said a word, other times I’m glad I did. I read a quote the other day, I don’t know if it’s truly from Marilyn Monroe or not, but it said something along the lines of we shouldn’t regret what we’ve done in the past, because at that exact moment we did what we wanted. My advice, if you want it, is to tell who you will be comfortable sharing good news with when your moment arrives, but more importantly, share it with someone you will be comfortable crying to if your moment does not happen.
So…what am I going to do at my mom’s party? DANCE.