What to expect when they're not expecting

It’s National Infertility Awareness week, and I’ve thought long and hard about writing a blog about this. It’s not an easy subject for me to write about and I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to say. So in the end, I just decided to write something that might be useful for anyone trying to support a friend or family member who’s suffering from infertility. Here it is…

Things not to say to someone struggling with infertility:

1.      “Relax and it will happen”

I’m sure I’m not alone in saying that these are the most hated words you can hear. I know that people mean well and especially when the infertility is unexplained (i.e. no medical reason diagnosed) it might seem like a piece of sensible advice. But really, if it were that easy, I’d be at a spa every weekend or meditating on my lunch break. While there may be some truth in these words – stress can impact on fertility – it’s not what anyone wants to hear and the chances are, some yoga is not going to fix the problem!

2.      “There’s a plan for you / if it’s meant to be it will be / everything happens for a reason”

I’ll admit I am a believer in fate. I do try to tell myself that everything happens for a reason. The problem is, when you don’t know what that reason is, it’s incredibly frustrating. And to be honest, knowing that there might well be a plan for me, and that plan may not involve children, is frankly, fucking depressing. And certainly not something I want to be reminded of.  

3.      “There’s always IVF”

Ah, the good old IVF back up. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s no-one’s first choice to inject themselves with hormones and grow their potential first born in a petri dish. Yes, in theory, we could have IVF. But we don’t want to. I won’t judge anyone that chooses to go down this road, but people need to understand that it’s not for everyone. After years of heartbreak, not everyone has the strength or desire to go through the emotional trauma of a failed IVF cycle (or five!)

4.      “I know how you feel” (when you really don’t)

I’ll let you in on a secret. Trying to conceive is not nearly as much fun it’s made out to be. In fact, it’s pretty bloody stressful. So if it’s taken you a year to get pregnant, I completely understand the strain that will have put on every part of your life.  But it’s just not the same as being infertile. If you ended up with a baby at the end of trying, then you don’t know how I feel. And you never will (unless of course, you are unlucky enough to struggle with secondary infertility later down the line.)

5.        “Think of all the things you can do without kids”

Yes, I have a pretty great life. I go on lots of holidays, minibreaks, trips away etc, and that’s all great fun. But it’s not how I pictured life would be at 31 and certainly not what I want forever to look like. If you moan about not having enough ‘me time,’ sleep, or dates with your husband, then I’m probably going to find it pretty hard to sympathise with that. People who have kids are lucky. I get that being a parent is incredibly hard and you need a break from them sometimes. But a life without children when you really want them is quite different and these small concessions – like sleeping for eight hours or having the money to get your hair done – doesn’t  really make up for that.

So, what should you say?

I don’t mean to come across as bitter, I really don’t. If you have said any of the above things to me at some point, I don’t hate you. I know it’s hard to find the right words and it’s so personal to whoever’s on the receiving end. I’ve come to terms with our infertility now, so am not so sensitive, but someone at the start of their journey might well be. My advice would be to just say ‘that’s really shit, I’m here if you want to talk about it,’ and really mean it. Sometimes I want to talk about it, sometimes I don’t. But if I know you’re here for me no matter what, well, those are the only words I really need to hear.