This post is one of many that you will find throughout the week on No Ordinary Homestead about infertility, because this blog has been dedicated to National Infertility Awareness Week (April 24-30). This is being done to raise awareness on behalf of the millions of people, male and female, who have ever been infertile or are considered infertile today. If you or someone you know is dealing with fertility problems, you might enjoy Navigating the Land of IF — you can win a copy here this week.
Written by Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos
June 10, 2008 was a day unlike any other. There I was, Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos, pictured on the home page of The New York Times with a link to a health feature about my husband and me — Exhibit A: one of the many millions of “involuntarily childless” couples making our way in a child-centric society.
We had tried for more than a decade to conceive, starting the old fashioned way. When months rolled up into more than year without any sign of pregnancy, we started down a long journey of diagnostic tests, followed by several surgeries, junior varsity and the full-on high tech scientific intervention. Neither nature or science cooperated. Alpha pregnancies never reached their full potential. Infertility dealt a deep, devastating blow. After our losses, each month delivered a painful reminder of our sustained heartache.
It’s not easy to accept that your DNA ends with you when everyone else’s DNA is reproducing all over the place.
In the wake of unsuccessful treatment and in the early days of coming to terms with accepting a life as “involuntarily childless,” I began to suspect that society harbored ignorance (bordering on ugliness) about the struggles couples who can’t have children face. Sadly, my hunch was proven correct with The New York Times feature. The lack of knowledge and vitriol came out loud and clear in comments logged on a NYT Well blog companion piece. I was one of six women who recorded audio segments about coping with infertility in a fertile world.
The vast majority of comments were, to put it nicely, snarky and judgmental. I read them with an arms-length fascination. Ironically, they were from parents. (One can only wonder what they’re teaching their children.) It’s also worth noting that while I used my real name to share my experience, those with the meanest things to say hid behind an alias.
Fortunately, I’d developed quite a thick skin in the wake of our infertility losses to the casual, dismissive remarks about my childlessness in my work and social life. The remarks stung deeply at first and then, in time, landed with more of a dull thud. A thick skin is essential to surviving in an era of “Helicopter Parents,” “Mom’s Clubs” and a full on love affair between advertisers and the mommy market.
My attempt to make sense of the skewed societal perceptions and prejudices led me to start a blog, Coming2Terms, and then write a book called Silent Sorority. One of my most read posts describes how we arrived at the decision to end infertility treatment.
It wasn’t easy to step forward and tell my story. Given the stigma associated with it, I had healthy doses of anxiety and insomnia. “Infertility,” my husband once observed, “is one of those topics you want to bury, and then bury the shovel.” Outside of our immediate family and friends, no one knew about our infertility struggles. I could have remained silent but I decided that if children wouldn’t be part of my legacy, I could have a different kind of legacy: helping to make the world a more compassionate, understanding place for the infertile couples coming behind me. Raising awareness, minimizing (and, hopefully, eradicating) the ignorance and stigma is what gave me the courage to come out of the closet, to use my real name in talking with The New York Times and to write Silent Sorority, which last year won the Best Book Award at the RESOLVE Night of Hope ceremony.
I’m glad I found the strength to talking openly about infertility. The sharing allowed me to come to terms, to transform and grow following the pain and loss. More importantly, I’ve helped other women to do the same. The amount of email I’ve received from around the world continues to arrive weekly expressing gratitude and relief at hearing someone describe what they’ve lived with and through. Here are just a handful of those responses:
- “I’m discovering my thoughts in your words. Thank you…” (Croatia)
- “Thank you for being brave enough to lift the veil of secrecy about infertility and about your life. It has challenged me to do the same.” (South Africa)
- “I’m from Poland so I’m sorry for my englisch. I read your blog and I just want to thank you. I grow due to you in strength.” (Poland)
- “I’ve been reading your blog for many years and I loved Silent Sorority. You’ve been a huge support to me in my struggle with infertility – that you have been able to deal with the fact that there was no ‘happy ending’ is really encouraging to me.” (Finland)
- “I am childless and live in England. I am stunned to find somebody so open about being childless. It is a taboo subject and I carry it around with me all the time. Thank You, Pamela. I have read your brilliant book and feel part of something.” (UK)
Facts About Infertility
- Infertility is NOT an inconvenience; it is a disease of the reproductive system that impairs the body’s ability to perform the basic function of reproduction.
- Infertility affects men and women equally.
- The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates 50-80 million people worldwide face infertility.
- One in six of all couples seek medical help because of childlessness, and one in twenty will never have a child despite all that medicine can offer.
