Oh, Facebook … why do you tease me so? You are a fickle friend who loves to simultaneously bring me closer to family and friends I haven’t seen in ages … and make me feel insanely alone. Especially when seeing “First Day of School” pics or status updates from everyone.
Okay, so I exaggerate a bit. What can I say? I was in the Drama Club in high school.
And truth be told, I love seeing all the cute pictures of the kids; especially as I get to see how much bigger and older they’ve gotten since the last pictures of them were posted.
But yet, there’s the little part of me that feels those tiny daggers stabbing away at my core. The sad thing is … well, I’m not quite sure if my “core” is my barren uterus. Or my heart.
Bit by bit, those daggers are disappearing from my heart … and I’m feeling less envious of those family & friends who have become parents. Rather, I’m beginning to be more accepting of where I am in my life and which path my life is taking me.
What an enormous leap from where I was two years ago, eh?
Anyway, I figured since most people are posting pics of their kids on this first day of school, I should post some of mine. Well, my furbabies anyway!
My previous boss once said to me, “You don’t have to get everyone to like you.”
This is the same boss who, in the midst of all the chaos at the end of this past April, didn’t do a thing to help me out. The same boss who worried the whole time that I’d find the job horrible and go running back to Detroit.
But, as difficult as my position at this company would get, I actually enjoyed my job. I found that it challenged me in ways I hadn’t been challenged before. And up until the day I was sent home (and eventually told to stay home), I found myself gaining a little more confidence in myself … confidence I had lost so much of when going through the roller coaster of Infertility.
Megan from Bottoms Off and On the Table wrote a post that really resonated with me. In her post she talks about how busy she’s been at work and how, perhaps, she’s using work as a self-imposed coping mechanism while deciding on the next step of her Infertility journey.
And, oh … could I ever relate to this.
Reading her post reminded me of “stepping down” from my previous supervisor position in Michigan in order to concentrate my energies on IVF. After all, I had already been through years of conservative treatment and months of medicated cycles … all with disappointing results. By then I was so exhausted by the monthly cycles of treatment, which included multiple trips to the various doctor’s offices for lab draws and pelvic ultrasounds, only to be concluded with yet another negative pregnancy test.
And how I even managed to keep track of all the supervisor duties I had during those years, I’ll never remember. But what I do know is that once I decided to become a “regular” staff member (instead of supervisor), I suddenly felt as if I had more breathing room … at least enough to allow some positivity and hope into my life before heading into IVF territory.
After our IVF failed, I admit I began to slack off at work; an obvious sign that I cared little about anything during those first months of incredible depression. Then I discovered that throwing myself into work helped distract me from feeling like a complete failure. Flash forward a few years, and now I found myself moving to Chicago to accept a position that I’d hope would advance my career. I, once again became a supervisor; but this time for a high-profile group within a much larger company.
I did this for a number of reasons, but mostly I did this so that I could further my career. My thought was this: If I couldn’t give bear children because Infertility robbed me, then I might as well focus on the part of myself that I knew I could be good at. I might as well be a “successful” career woman.
And then … well, you know what eventually happened with that job. And the ultimate failure I felt from that fallout. What had angered me most was that I felt I went above and beyond my capabilities of being successful (and had been recognized for such accomplishments), but yet my previous boss never bothered to step up for me and fight for me; something she could have easily done. Except … well, this being the same boss who told me that I didn’t need to be liked, I rather think she had something against me. Personally, I think it’s because she had kids and was currently in school, which meant that she couldn’t completely “focus” in further her career …
As I’ve just completed my first week at my new job, I have found myself contemplating the lessons I’ve learned from my last job; what I should take away from that experience. And since I had four months to mull over the past year and a half, this is what I came up with:
There’s no need to “make up” for my inability to bear children with trying to more successful in other ways. Because it’s more important to focus on being happy with who I am and the strong(ish) person I’ve become … even though it’s nowhere close to where I though I’d be at this time in my life.
And
My previous boss was right. I don’t have to get everyone to like me. Because it’s not about being “liked.” Rather, it’s about being respected … which should really begin with respecting myself. And how can I respect myself if I continue to measure myself on my inability to have children? My life isn’t supposed to be all about whether I or not I failed in the “kids” department. I should be about my accomplishments and about remembering to give myself credit where credit is due.
Thank you for your comment on my previous post. As always, I welcome any responses to what I write. To me, any response means that I’m effectively getting my words out into the world.
My last post did not mean to belittle Cancer as a disease. And yes, I realize that I was a bit over the top and melodramatic at the end. I truly debated as to whether or not I should respond to you. But then I thought that I should really practice what I preach.
And what I’ve been preaching lately is that it’s better to educate others about Infertility than perpetuating a myth.
In this case, it’s the myth that Infertility is not a disease, but rather just a “condition” that is a result of a “badly dealt hand” in life.
Or as Margaret Wente’s editorial in The Globe and The Mail indicates, “Many things in life are deeply unfair, and infertility is just one of them … … [In the] meantime, record numbers of people are embracing childlessness out of choice. It seems that one person’s deep unfairness is another’s blessed liberation.”
So, as an RN Case Manager … who has not only taken care of many Cancer patients at the hospital and has followed up with them on an ongoing basis after they’ve returned to their homes … let me take the opportunity here to dispell this myth.
1. Let’s first get our definitions straight.
Condition: a usually defective state of health (from Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary)
Disease: a condition of the living animal or plant body or of one of its parts that impairs normal functioning and is typically manifested by distinguishing signs and symptoms (from Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary)
Cancer: a term used for diseases in which abnormal cells divide without control and are able to invade other tissues (from the National Cancer Institute website)
Diabetes: a group of diseases characterized by high blood glucose levels that result from defects in the body’s ability to produce and/or use insulin (from the American Diabetes Association website)
Infertility: a disease of the reproductive system defined by the failure to achieve a clinical pregnancy after 12 months or more of regular unprotected sexual intercourse (as defined by the World Health Organization, as stated by the American Society for Reproductive Medicine website).
2. Now, let’s discuss the difference between a condition and a disease.
Many diseases started out as a being known as a “condition.” Diabetes was a “sugar condition.” Asthma was a “breathing condition.” It’s not until science began to do more research to determine the reason for its abnormal patterns in functioning that a condition came to be called a disease.
To me, this is why giving voice to Infertility and educating the general population is extremely important: so that more research can be done to discover how to effectively and consistently treat Infertility. And when I mean “consistently,” I mean that there should be a specific pathway (or guideline to follow) for treatment of Infertility. Much like there are standards of practice for treatment of the various types of Cancer.
3. Now let me discuss why I think all diseases aren’t fatal, as you’ve indicated.
Eczema isn’t fatal. Scleroderma isn’t fatal. Diabetes isn’t even fatal. What’s fatal is what happens if appropriate treatment is not carried out. That’s when other health conditions (or comorbidities) can add to the complications involving the disease.
Going back to Diabetes: If a Diabetic’s blood sugar isn’t controlled properly, then this could lead to diabetic nephropathy — or kidney disease. This is caused by the kidneys working overtime to filter out protein from the body. Continued overworking can cause kidney failure which could, again if untreated could cause toxicity in the body, ultimately leading to death. But would a pathologist consider diabetes as the cause of death in a situation like this? Likely no; it would most likely be kidney failure as a complication from Diabetes.
Now, substitute diabetes in this situation with, let’s say … pancreatic cancer. Again, pancreatic cancer could more likely be the complication in a fatal situation such as this.
4. So now let me talk about why I think complications from Infertility can be fatal.
First there’s the idea of an abnormal reproductive system; which, like most diseases, could be caused from a variety of different sources. In this case, it’s during any part of the reproductive cycle. But just for sh*ts and giggles … let’s say that — in determining the cause for Infertility — the woman discovers that she has Ovarian Cancer. Or we find out that the man has Testicular Cancer. Then I could logically assume (as you’ve pointed out) that Infertility can be related to Cancer (or vice versa, for that matter) and any complications that result from Cancer can be fatal.
Or … how about this? Let’s say, in the quest to have a child, a woman who has put her body at risk to become pregnant is suddenly more at risk during her pregnancy because of Pre-ecclampsia. And suddenly it becomes evident that a choice needs to be made as to whether to save the woman or her baby? I know women who have tragically been through this. And I hope, sometime in your life that you might have some empathy for them …
5. And finally, speaking of sympathy … I must point out that sympathy for my Infertility is not what I’m asking from you … or from anyone.
What I really want is empathy. And that would mean that I’d want the understanding from others that Infertility is a disease and it deserves to be recognize. It’s not something to be swept under the rug or ignored.
And quite frankly, I would hope that a person with Cancer would also want empathy rather than sympathy. For me, someone who is sympathetic can only “feel” pity and sorrow for someone’s misfortune. While a person who is empathetic has the ability to recognize, comprehend, perceive and directly feel the emotion of another. Seriously. I’d rather have someone recognize and comprehend how difficult it is to be in my situation than to just simply say (perhaps in their head), “Too bad, so sad.”
So here’s one last set of definitions.
Sympathy: the feeling or mental state brought about by such sensitivity (from Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary)
Empathy: the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner (from Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary)
So hopefully you now have a better understanding of why I wrote my last post.
I’m not asking for more recognition than what Cancer, with its multitude of community support, already has. I’m just simply asking for recognition.
And finally … just so you know. I am a survivor of Infertility … not because one of my parents suffered from Infertility (because my Mom did ) … and not because I ended up having children (because I didn’t) … I consider myself a survivor because I was able to sustain years of treatment for Infertility and came out the other end of a verrry long tunnel with my dignity (relatively) intact.
Best of luck in wherever your life takes you, Emily
It sounds rather silly, given that I have nothing visible to show for the years I’ve been diagnosed with this disease. (Well, except for the added weight gain from all the medications … but that’s beside the point.) But it’s the truth.
It may sound strange to the average person that Infertility is considered a disease. After all, most people are rather inclined to think that it’s a “condition” rather than a disease. There’s even been debate that Infertility is considered a “lifestyle choice.” But we’ll get back to that one later.
Much like Cancer is a disease (an abnormal growth of cells which proliferate in an uncontrolled manner), so is Infertility. And I can even have the World Health Organization definition to back me up.
And much like a Cancer patient who has successfully completed treatment for their disease, I can also say that I am a survivor.
*****
I know, I know … I’ve made multiple comparisons of Infertility to Cancer in previous posts. And just so you know, it’s not as if this comparison hasn’t been made by other Infertility bloggers and/or other health care providers in Reproductive Health in the past.
Believe me, as an RN who has taken care of her fair share of Cancer patients, it’s not one that I do lightly. I do so, only to showcase the lack of support and education that Infertility receives when compared to Cancer.
If you’re like most people, the news of a family or friend recently diagnosed with Cancer will trigger a sense of empathy for that individual and their family. For me, it’s always been an immediate “That’s horrible!” or “How sad” statement when receiving the news. Then, the next time I see the individual or one of their family members, I might briefly ask them how they’re doing and how their treatment is coming along. And I’d make it a point to ask how they’re coping with everything. I do so knowing that I’m offering them an opportunity to let out some of those difficult emotions that come along whenever someone is going through a stressful situation.
For me, that’ how *I* like to offer my support. But others could likely offer to send a card, call the person, and/or offer to run some errands for them. And yet others will offer their unsolicited advice about how their “third cousin” beat by “sniffing glue” (or something just as odd). Either way, Cancer elicits that feeling of wanting to help a person out because … “G*d forbid, if something like that happened to me, I’d hope someone would do the same.”
Now, take this same situation, but substitute Cancer with Infertility. What immediate emotion would that disease trigger? Would you feel empathy for the woman? Would you feel more empathy for the woman, than the man (if that’s the case), perhaps thinking that Infertility is strictly her diagonsis? Would you send them a card?**
And the next time you see that person or couple, would you ask how they were doing? And how they’re coping with the disease? Would you ask them what kind of treatment they’re receiving? Would you offer to run errands for them, knowing that their lives have been tied to a specific minute-by-minute, hour-by-hour time schedule? Would you offer them unsolicited advice on how they should “just adopt” or “just relax”?
Okay, so I’m guessing that most people would answer “No” to those questions. Except maybe for that last one; because — believe me — I still get lots of incredibly insensitive “a$$vice” thrown at us on a daily basis. (Of which my response to those Infertiles who also deal with this situation … this is the perfect opportunity to educate others out there about how Infertility is a complicated disease with multiple layers of emotional struggles that can’t simply be “fixed” by just relaxing or adopting.)
Anyhoo …
As I said, I’m guessing that most people would answer “No.” And the reason is because Infertility is something that no one really wants to openly talk about. It’s the pink elephant in the middle of the room that people speak through it (rather than directly at it or about it). Even those individuals or couples who are diagnosed with it find it incredibly difficult to share. As stated in the recent SELF Magazine article, “Infertility is where breast cancer was in the 1970’s — completely in the closet.”
So this is where I, onceagain, emphasize that talking directly about Infertility is important. Giving Infertility a voice is essential. Educating others about Infertility is critical.
Why is this necessary? Because one brave and educated voice can spur a thousand other brave souls to tell their Infertility stories. And those courageous voices can turn around and educate their family and friends about the disease. And those family and friends can then tell their friends, and so on and so on … therefore creating a network of support.
And from there, maybe … just maybe, Infertility can receive the recognition as a disease that it needs. Maybe then, Infertility will elicit an empathy similar to that of Cancer.
*****
One last thing, and then I’ll wrap this up.
Yes, I do understand that Cancer is a “life or death” situation; and that receiving treatment determines whether or not a person survives. But let me ask you this? Isn’t Infertility a “life or death” situation when it comes to a child’s life? Isn’t receiving treatment for Infertility also determine whether or not a child survives?
For those affected by Cancer (whether as an individual, or a family member of the individual), the life of a loved one is on the line. For those affected by Infertility, the life of their child … not to mention their individual livelihood to sustain life through their own genes … is on the line.
And finally … for my “Living Child-free after Infertility” self, let me throw one more thing your way. What kind of sadness do you feel for a person with Cancer who has decided to stop treatments? A person who knows that his/her options are severely limited?
Would you respect the choice that he or she made; knowing that they gave considerable thought about their decision? Would you still respect their decision even though it might not be one that’s necessarily “conventional”?
Now … once again, substitute Cancer with Infertility.
Can you see now why Infertility is not a “lifestyle choice”? (Told you I’d get back to it … )
I don’t mean to come off as sounding like I can’t get “past” my own infertility (like Andie would think of me; as evidenced by her response to Pam‘s February article in FertilityAuthority.com). I don’t mean to sound as if any non-Infertile who reads this is an “ignorant fool” who doesn’t know me or my problems.
I simply write these feelings — these thoughts of mine — so that maybe … just maybe, a person (or two) can learn from them.
*****
My name is Emily … and I’m an Infertility Survivor.
If you have a moment, please watch the video below and then click over to the RESOLVEwebsite to read about what you can do to raise awareness about Infertility.
Here you should be able to find the link to the SELF Magazine article that I talked about in my previous post.
As a person who is living Child-Free after Infertility, I think it’s extremely important for both the general population and the Infertility Community to be aware that Infertility is a disease that cannot be simply “cured” by Assisted Reproductive Therapy (ART), pregnancy or adoption.
Infertility is a disease that affects the livelihood of 1 in 8 American couples. And most of all, not all Infertility stories are are success stories.
Regardless, I believe that every Infertile — including former Infertiles (those who have now become parents) — should voice their struggles (or past struggles) to others. The only way for Infertility to have a VOICE is to speak about it, loudly & proudly.
We should not be ashamed of what we’ve been through. We should no longer hold our struggles and emotional pain internally.
We should no longer keep our Infertility a secret …
So while you’re on the RESOLVE website, I also encourage you to take the pledge.
*****
And now a message from the Executive Director of RESOLVE
I am a Survivor of Infertility.
For me, that’ how *I* like to offer my support. But others could likely offer to send a card, call the person, and/or offer to run some errands for them. And yet others will offer their unsolicited advice about how their “third cousin” beat by “sniffing glue” (or something just as odd). Either way, Cancer elicits that feeling of wanting to help a person out because … “G*d forbid, if something like that happened to me, I’d hope someone would do the same.”
One last thing, and then I’ll wrap this up.