Mother’s Day has always been a little difficult for me. I am one of many women who struggle with infertility.
When you begin fertility treatments, everyone tries to be encouraging. You hear countless success stories. You’ll hear stories in which women, sometimes even your own friends or family members, tried for 5, 10, 15 years or more and suffered through unfortunate miscarriages and false positives, before finally becoming pregnant and being able to carry a baby to term. You’ll hear about women who were in some stage of the wonderful, phenomenal, albeit expensive, process of adopting a beautiful child when they learned they had finally been able to conceive and could not have felt more blessed to have 2 (or more) amazing children to love. You’ll hear all sorts of interesting, useful, and downright crazy theories, ideas, and tips to help you achieve your dreams of motherhood.
But in spite of all the inspirational and positive tales, the uncomfortable truth no one really talks about is that not everyone’s journey with infertility has a happy ending, at least not one that ends with them having a child or children to call their own.
Many of the untold stories of infertility end in destroyed relationships, with couples parting ways because one or both blame themselves or each other. Over time, people just shut each other out, no longer communicating openly or effectively, because their painful struggle with infertility creates intense emotional wounds and unrelenting feelings of resentment, anger, and heartbreak.
There are other cases in which couples, who are able, liquidate all their assets and exhaust all their financial resources, before they ever realize their dreams of parenthood. Or those who make the hard choice NOT to sacrifice their savings and/or retirement for an uncertain future that can offer no guarantee of success. Still others make peace with the fact that they will never be parents, because they simply cannot afford prohibitively expensive treatments or adoption.
For some of us, our female identities are so profoundly tied to becoming mothers that no other goal or achievement means anything. We simply cannot escape feelings of inadequacy, no matter how hard we try or how hard our partners, friends, or families work to reassure us.
Infertility is a thief; a thief of joy, a thief of time, a thief of confidence, a thief of self worth, a thief of energy, a thief of hope, a thief of faith, and even a thief of financial security. It can easily destroy you and everything you love. It can harden your heart and make you cold, bitter, and unfeeling. It can make you envious of people who, in your mind, don’t seem to deserve the awesome gift they’ve been given or understand how lucky they are to have children. It can make you dread and avoid social media, because, while you’re genuinely happy for a friend or loved one who is sharing her pregnancy announcement, you’re also devastated that you will never have that moment of joy for yourself.
But it’s important to remember that infertility does not define a person or a couple. For all the things infertility robs from you and the grief and despair it instills, it can also be a powerful tool. It can help you understand that you are so much more than your ability to reproduce. It can help you develop patience, strength, empathy, compassion, and forgiveness. It can teach you to be kind to yourself and others and appreciate small moments of joy. It can lead you to the endless satisfaction and delight of being someone else’s village. Because your inability to experience motherhood doesn’t mean you can’t support, help, and love someone else’s children, as if they were your own.
So Happy Mother’s Day to ALL the different types of moms out there! Whether your children have 2 legs or 4; live here or in heaven; are adopted, biological, or a friend or relative’s children; if you adore them, spend time with them, do things for them, and do your best to help raise them to be good humans, I see you and I think you’re amazing!
Overstimulated and Underhydrated 