It was a weird moment the other day when I verbalized to my husband that we are now experiencing secondary infertility. About fifteen years ago we were diagnosed with infertility, adopted four kids, experienced two miracle pregnancies that ended with the births of our sons (and two ectopic pregnancies) and now here we are again. We don’t necessarily want to have more biological kids, but the weird thing about infertility is that just because you don’t want to get pregnant doesn’t make you less infertile. If we wanted to, we couldn’t. Mostly, we don’t think about this, but it’s just the reality. Secondary infertility is weird because it’s much more hidden than primary infertility. Because you’ve given birth, people assume you could do that again anytime you want and that if you don’t, it must be because you don’t want more kids. Lots of women who have four-year-olds running around are being asked questions they don’t know how to answer about when they’ll have their next baby, or they’re weathering awkward conversations about the pros and cons of their decision to have an only child when they know with their whole hearts that they didn’t plan to have an only child. Secondary infertility is not especially emotional for us because we’re in a stage where we aren’t hoping to get pregnant, but this interview last April (for infertility awareness month) was a good moment to remember what those painful days were like.
Listen to it, I’d love to hear your thoughts, and feel free to read any of my other posts linked below about infertility, suffering, grief, faith and friendship.
Feeling Forgotten: When you have spent so much time praying and crying out to God and the response you hear is silence, it’s hard to frame that in your mind as anything other than the forgetfulness of God. When you hear about a friend getting pregnant with a child she wishes they hadn’t conceived because of what a burden it will be, you feel that God has forgotten you and your struggle while continuing to hand out children to those he remembers. God even “remembers” teenagers and rape victims in this way while He’s busy forgetting you. I never wanted to accuse God of being “unfair” but forgetful? I had a hard time seeing another view when Hannah’s story seemed to confirm what felt obvious to me.
When It’s Right to do Infertility Wrong: This infertility struggle must not be as cut-and-dry as I thought. I thought I was supposed to pretend I didn’t want to be pregnant and then God would give me what I secretly wanted. Maybe instead the best thing we can do is be honest with God and let him know what’s in our hearts, even if it’s painful.
Infertility Shame: 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.
How My Friends Taught Me to Grieve: As someone who struggles to fully experience my emotions, this validation of my grief has allowed me to actually experience my grief. Sometimes Thinkers need Feelers to show them the way. We need the feelers to teacher us how to create space for our grief. We need friends to voice their own pain for us. We need them to thank us for taking risks in the name of love. When we see the pain in your eyes, it tells us it’s okay to feel it ourselves. When you send us a message that validates how difficult this is, we take a deep breath and feel normal for how much we’re struggling. Your words really do matter. They help.
What if Your Feelings are Just Your Feelings: So about a year ago I was struggling with lots of feelings. BIG FEELINGS and they felt like those waves that smack you down when you’re at the beach and you know if you went a little more shallow in the water, you’d be fine and if you went a little deeper in the water, you’d be fine, but instead you stand at this spot where the waves drag you down, knock the air out of you and you wonder if you’re going to make it. Yeah. Those kinds of feelings. It was in that moment that a friend said to me, “What if your feelings are just your feelings. You don’t have to obey them and you don’t have to ignore them. Just acknowledge them.”
Don’t Waste Your Childless Years: I don’t think every childless couple is called to work with kids in crisis. In fact, probably relatively few are equipped and willing, but I think every childless individual (whether through infertility or a delayed decision to have kids or because of singleness) needs to think about the purpose of their childlessness. How can we be making the most of that time? What are our gifts? How may God be calling us to serve our community? What can we accomplish during these years that we won’t be able to do once kids enter the picture?
To Maralee, Who was Just Diagnosed with Infertility: When I think back to you and the pain you’re living in, I wish you could have one moment to glimpse the joy that is coming for you. The overwhelming happiness of your life. If you could see this family it all its messy, chaotic, loud, realness you wouldn’t shed one more tear over your childlessness except to be sad that there are still years between you and this rowdy bunch. God didn’t give you a desire for children to mock you or punish you. He gave you a desire for children because he’s going to ask you to do big things to cross the divide from grief and barrenness to life and family.
Mother’s Day– Rejoicing and Mourning: Please make it your goal to affirm and celebrate mothers and families all through the year, but on a day when hurting women are especially sensitive it may be best to keep it low-key. That’s not to say this should be a Debbie Downer moment. We really do want to rejoice with the families that are rejoicing and honor the hard work of moms, but it’s good to do it with recognition that the typical experience is not the only experience.
Pregnancy Doesn’t Cure Infertility: My shameful secret is that what I most want isn’t another baby, it’s control. I want to imagine a world where I could pick how many kids I’m going to have and then I could make it happen. I wouldn’t have to wait through times of “trying” or lengthy adoption processes. I could be in charge. Of course, it’s such a false sense of control to imagine that being fertile means you make your children happen. Every conception is an act of God, but I admit I’m envious of those who seem to be able to make it happen (or not happen) at will.
What if the Point of Infertility Wasn’t a Child: Infertility made me less likely to judge women whose lives don’t seem to be going according to plan. It taught me to offer empathy instead of my “solutions” to someone else’s deeply painful problems. It showed me that it is possible to praise God in the midst of suffering and that sometimes God seems silent, but present all at once. I learned that sometimes you have to stop trying to figure out the grand plan in order to just have peace with your reality in the day-to-day.