As the person who is going to carry our baby, there is a lot required of my body. Daily appointments, monitoring, blood work, acupuncture, invasive ultrasounds, medications, injections, disgusting tea and uncomfortable procedures. I remember the first time my husband had to give me a needle at home. As he pinched the skin on my tummy, he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, I do not want to be doing this to my wife. Broke my heart.
There have been many times I was sure I was pregnant. But when the test comes back negative it’s hard to feel sure about anything anymore. This experience has caused me to feel completely disconnected from my body. What is the miracle of life for others, has become what feels like a business transaction for me. I am still working on re-connecting with my body today.
This all became very challenging for me to manage given the demands of my job. Mental health aside, the inside of my arms were constantly bruised and swollen from all the needles. Sometimes if I forgot to wear a long sleeve shirt, I’d catch a glimpse of my team members looking at my arms. It was so embarrassing, mortifying actually. I’m supposed to be their leader. What were they thinking? And with so many appointments, I was constantly anxious that my team, clients and leaders were suspicious about me. I didn’t want them to think that I was slacking off, shady or just completely aloof. When you are silently suffering, you can’t tell your staff or boss you have an appointment at the fertility clinic. I actually tried a couple of times, but the words would not come out of my mouth. My stress at work was fueling my stress of not getting pregnant, and that cycle became very unhealthy. The opposite of what you want when you’re trying to conceive.
Stress is one of the leading causes as to why women don’t get pregnant. By process of elimination and lack of answers, I started to believe that the stress of my job was the reason this wasn’t happening, and I was convinced that I was the problem (insert: guilt). Inconclusive infertility means that both partners feel extreme guilt that they are the reason their spouse isn’t a parent yet. You tell yourself; it’s my fault that you are suffering, I have taken the thing you want most away from you. That feeling sucks. But it is important to remain strong for each other, even when it all feels impossible. My stress was a driving force that lead my husband and I to collectively decide that it was time for me to walk away from the sunshine list and take a break. Because everywhere I turned it was constant pressure, pressure, pressure. I had to stop everything. No more fertility clinics, no more meds, no more toxic work environments. The state of my mental health was at an all-time risky high. This was almost two years ago and I’m still not sure if I will ever have the heart to go back to a clinic. It’s not for everyone, and that’s okay.
Socially, things change too. Some friends don’t understand why you don’t want to go out and party anymore. Instead of telling them you’re ovulating you lie and find excuses. Eventually it seems easier to isolate yourself from others because you’re just so tired of answering questions. Infertility is an all-encompassing experience that consumes your entire mental and physical being. We don’t feel like celebrating most of the time. Holidays and birthdays bring tears, they are triggers for us. And I can see that people in my life are nervous to tell me when they’re pregnant. I hate that. But it is what it is and although I am genuinely happy for my people when they get to become parents, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting.
