Forty-Seven Cycles through Hell

Infertility

Losing hope one symptom at a time, until all that remains is grief. And then the next cycle begins, instilling just enough optimism to keep the battle going, month after month.

Many know the sorrow labeled infertility. I lived it for years. Several of my friends have also gone through a variation of the same struggle. I left a job because of our infertility struggle. I worried over our marriage, battled anxiety and depression, and went into debt because of our struggle. I distanced myself from friends, family, and even my husband. Our marriage could have fallen apart, and sometimes, I worried it would. For a while, we were in very different places emotionally, and I can’t stress this enough, fertility medications made me crazy. I didn’t want my husband to see all the emotions I was feeling, so I tried to hide them from him, and instead appeared distant and uncaring.

At a very pivotal point in our struggle, through the grace of God, we fell together instead of falling apart. Our insecurities fought to divide us, but we made it through, partly because we were too stubborn and loyal to give up on one another, but also because our love is real. It may not be perfect, but we’ve committed to loving one another even when it takes the extra effort, and because of this, we have something beautiful. We are enough, even if we never have children.

Since we stopped trying, I have been able to enjoy the kids in my life so much more. They feel like a blessing instead of a heartbreaking reminder of what we may never have.

For those of you who tell struggling couples to, “Just relax, and it will happen.” Stop. Please, please, please, I beg of you, stop! I said things like this before I understood the struggle—before I knew how words meant to encourage can break a person’s spirit. Most likely, you have no idea what the couple is going through. For medical reasons, we are either trying, or we are actively preventing pregnancy. So, when someone tells me to relax, that person is lucky I don’t throat punch them. I know most say it with good intentions. I’m not asking anyone to walk on eggshells, but don’t assume you know what is best for someone else. If you need to say something, instead of offering empty encouragement, empathize with them.

Infertility is a unique pain. To the world, I looked whole, but for a while, my grief was all-consuming. The bitterness I felt was unexpected, and it made me hate myself. I didn’t want the ugly, indignant thoughts that filled my head. Every baby announcement or baby shower, every time I heard someone complain about their kids, I would feel all these things I didn’t want to feel. I was disgusted with myself. I was so miserable and hateful that I didn’t know how to be happy for others. That is an ugly place to be, friends.

It took me a long time to separate what I was going through with what other people had going on. After our failed IVF, I decided for my wellbeing I had to stop. I couldn’t keep hating myself and my life. I took down the crib we’d had up for years and turned it into a relaxing room where I do most of my writing. My mind was so consumed with the baby struggle that for years, I barely made time to write.

Once we stopped trying, I buried myself in my writing. It was my therapy. It was a way to immerse myself in something that took my mind off my situation.

Even though there are so many going through the same struggle, it can still feel very isolating. To those who are fighting infertility, and trying to get pregnant, you are so brave and so strong. I didn’t know my own courage and strength until I fought with all I had for something that meant everything to me. I had forty-seven failed cycles, and each time I picked myself up and kept going with hope for the next time. We went through so many treatments, and I learned to be brave and bold because there was no other option.

One of the hardest things you can do is to keep going in the midst of your struggle. And for those of you who need a time out or have to call it, you are not a failure. Knowing your limit is essential. You are important and resilient. And most importantly, you are enough. Don’t let anyone make you feel as if you are not enough. Learn to love yourself and your life, because as much as we try to plan our lives, we don’t know what the future holds.