Pregnant Questions, Part Deux

Unlike – and thanks to – our mothers, our generation came of age thinking we had choices. About everything. We went to college to find a career, not a husband. And the sky was the limit – we could be anything we wanted to be. And we became it. Once we started down that path, we knew we could wait until we’d achieved a satisfying measure of success before we got married and stopped chasing the brass ring to have children. It never even occurred to most of us that there could be some kind of issue.

Which is why it’s such an utter shock when it doesn’t happen.

For many of us – and statistics will tell you that means one in eight women – this is the first time in our lives when something is not attainable through sheer hard work and tenacity alone. I know that for me (Jennifer, the latter half of Lisafer), one of the most challenging aspects of infertility is to accept that. What? You mean I can’t just have sex more often or get in some acrobatic position afterward to facilitate the whole thing? I can’t ovulate through sheer willpower? By the way, if that were possible, I would currently be the proud mother of 2,000 children.

I think that’s partly why others’ questions (which Lisa captured so well) are so offensive when you’re going through infertility. There seems to be some unspoken (sometimes spoken if they’re rude enough) implication that if you’re not getting pregnant, you must not be trying hard enough or are doing something wrong. “I knew someone who went through all these treatments and nothing – and then, voila, she got pregnant instantly once she stopped IVF because she relaxed about it.” Oh, thanks. So the moral of your brilliant tale is that I should just disregard all that crazy science behind infertility treatments and go with the oh-so-reliable method of calming down my type-A personality. Thank goodness I had the good fortune to run into you, or I may have spent months consulting with a credible MD instead of just going home and breathing deeply.

I used to hide my infertility, answering imposing questions with a polite “all in due time” or “you’ll be the first to know.” I felt ashamed by it, and didn’t want to make others uncomfortable. I’m over it. People who have the nerve to ask impolite questions give up their right to receive polite answers. They deserve to be made as uncomfortable as they’ve made you. I’ve been married for seven years and love kids. Millions of people experience infertility. Math has never been my thing but based on those numbers, the fact that I’m infertile doesn’t require a huge mental leap.

I’ve decide to personally launch a major, one-woman education effort. I feel it’s my personal responsibility to train at least those in my inner circle to stop the questions and speculation. Infertility hurts enough, especially when we see so many around us enjoying their lives as parents. The questions only deepen the wound.

-J