Infertility Shame

Do you know somebody who is struggling with infertility?  Whether you can name somebody or not, I bet there are people in your circle who are in the midst of charts, temperatures, consultations, medications, and doctor visits.  So why would somebody be walking through something so complicated and heartbreaking, but not share it with the people closest to them?  Why wouldn’t they look for support from those who love them?  One word-

Shame.

It’s such an odd thing.  Why would we have shame about something so out of our control?  It’s not as though we picked this.  For the vast majority of us it had nothing to do with our choices (of course STDs and other lifestyle decisions can play a part in some situations).  It may be a symptom of a medical problem that causes other issues- physical pain, hormone imbalance, irregularity in our cycles, or medications with side effects.  These are the kinds of problems that people generally talk to their friends about and ask for support.  Infertility is different.

It may be difficult to understand why somebody would feel shame about this issue or not want to open up to you about it.  You want to be a supportive friend, but how can you support if somebody isn’t talking to you about what’s going on?  Here are some of the things going on in the mind of your infertile friend (either consciously or subconsciously) that causes shame.

We worry it reflects on our relationship with God– When we see procreation as a blessing from God, why would He bless you and not us?  Is it because we’re living in sin?  We don’t have enough faith?  He has forgotten us?  He doesn’t love us the same way He loves you?  He doesn’t want to give us good things?  We are wrestling with these things in our own hearts and sometimes it’s too hard to deal with the shame we’d feel if we let you know we’re struggling that way, especially if you imply this situation is curable if we just say the right magic words to God.

We’re concerned it reflects on our marriages–  Some infertile couples know if they just would have married other people they would have been able to procreate.  This makes us wonder if we weren’t meant to be married.  We assume you might wonder that, too.  I had a woman (a woman in a very fertile marriage) once tell me if she was married to an infertile man she might have an affair just so she could get pregnant.  There are divorces that happen because couples can’t get on the same page about how to handle their infertility.  We carry the shame of even magical thinking that if we had only married the “right” person we wouldn’t be in this position.  We may not want to invite your judgement in about the state of our union.

We think it reflects on our femininity/masculinity–  Is there anything more central to what defines us as men or women than our reproductive parts?  If a woman has a fertility issue caused by excess testosterone, how do you think she’s going to feel about her womanhood?  What about the man diagnosed with a testosterone deficiency?  Don’t we hear commercials describing how important it is for men to have enough testosterone so they can be real men?  What can be more manly than impregnating a woman?  What is more womanly than carrying life?  In our society there can be a lot of shame about not being the fullest expression of manhood or womanhood.

We think it reflects on our sex lives–  You say to us, “My husband just looks at me and I get pregnant.”  The implication is that you have such a powerful connection or such passionate glances that you don’t even need sex to create life.  What are we doing so wrong that we can’t have that same kind of magic?  When we tell others about our infertility we feel like we’re inviting the world to stand in judgement of what’s happening in the most private moments of our marriage.  You’d be shocked by how many people make jokes that infertile couples just aren’t doing it right, which plays into some honest fears an infertile couple might have.  If procreation were the test of whether or not you’re succeeding at sex, infertility says you’re failing.  That feels like shame.

You seem to think you control your fertility–  We hear you talking about how you’ve decided to get pregnant and the next month you are.  We know you’re taking birth control or having a vasectomy and we wonder if you take your fertility for granted.  We know we can do all the right things and pregnancy still doesn’t happen for us.  We feel the shame of being unable to control what you seem to have fully figured out.  We feel like you might judge us for not being able to accomplish what comes so naturally for you.  Or we’re worried you’ll imply that we’re lucky we don’t have to worry about unplanned pregnancy and birth control issues.  We feel ashamed that we haven’t figured out what you seem to understand AND ashamed we’re tempted to judge you for how you handle your fertility.

We don’t know what your opinion is, but we know you have one–  Some people feel strongly certain infertility treatments are unethical.  Some people want you to quickly switch gears towards adoption.  Some people don’t think you should adopt until you’ve exhausted all other options.  Some people think it’s immoral to spend a bunch of money on trying to get pregnant.  Some people think you need to “relax” or quit trying so you’ll get pregnant.  An infertile couple that shares about their struggles is likely to hear all of these opinions, which obviously means they can’t make everybody happy with whatever decision they make.  They may feel shamed for doing too much or too little to try and fix their situation.

So what can you do to support a friend who is struggling with infertility?  That’s a post for later this week.