Loving Your Infertile Body

I remember in the early days of our infertility diagnosis I really struggled with my body. I felt trapped in this broken, empty shell that seemed so vibrant and full of life on the outside. In a moment of crazy despair I remember thinking that I just wanted the outside to match the inside. I thought about getting a big black Sharpie marker and just coloring blackness where I felt so empty— right where that baby should grow. I wanted the outside to match how I felt on the inside.

We women have a complicated relationship with our bodies. Somehow they encompass so much more than just flesh and blood. For better or worse, they are how we see ourselves and the face we present to the world. For those reasons, I love the recent movement to help women embrace their bodies. Whatever flaws they may have or beauty they may possesses, it is hard to find joy in life if you don’t make some kind of peace with your body.

Rebecca Tredway Photography

I do have one little issue with how this has manifested itself among mothers. I see lots of posts and pictures that glorify the female body precisely because it can reproduce. Women write about the toll pregnancy and birth have taken on their once glorious bodies and how they are learning to love their stretch marks and c-section scars because they are reminders of how amazing and functional their bodies are. But what if your body isn’t so amazing when it comes to reproduction? Can infertile women love their bodies, too?

It’s a battle. You hear other women bemoan their saggy breasts and widened hips and you want to tell them exactly what you’d trade for those “flaws” they’re identifying. Maybe infertility has meant your body is perfectly preserved, but the reality is that infertile women have a double struggle with our bodies. We have all the same insecurities about our appearance and then we also fight a frustration with our body for not being able to do what we feel it was created to do— to give life.

Wide hips, stretch marks, and stomach flab are not the sole property of the fertile. But the fertile woman can tell herself she has sacrificed her body for a greater purpose. The infertile woman can’t tell herself the same story about her physical imperfections. For some women, their infertility and their physical imperfections may even go hand in hand. Hormone issues can wreak havoc on the body in both inward and outward ways. And the ravages of time come for all of us— infertile or not. Not giving birth doesn’t mean your body is frozen in its 18 year-old form forever.

Infertile Sisters, we live in a fallen world. Our bodies are broken and they seem to have failed us. It is natural to be frustrated at them and it’s natural to feel hurt when other women complain about pregnancy or even when they affirm how awesome and amazing their bodies are because they can reproduce. But God made your body, too.

Our strong arms can rock babies we didn’t carry in our bodies. Our breasts may not make milk, but our two year-olds still rest their heads against them and find comfort when they have a bad dream. Our flabby thighs are just as good at jumping up and cheering when our kids score their first soccer goal. The worth of our body isn’t determined by it’s ability to procreate. Our satisfaction and pride shouldn’t be connected to how we stack up against other women and their bodies.

And what about the harder reality, when our bodies aren’t even functional? The elbows crippled with arthritis and the medications to deal with the pain that make pregnancy impossible. The accident that left you incapable of pregnancy and incapable of cheering at that first soccer goal. The cancer and the treatments that robbed you of your fertility and your good health.

It isn’t easy, but we struggle to see our bodies the way God sees them. They are tools. Tools with limits. We are stewards of the abilities we’ve been given and strive to use them in ways that honor God. For some of us, that will be through physical reproduction and parenting. For others, that isn’t the ultimate plan. But that doesn’t mean we need to despise our bodies or they aren’t worthy of respect. Love your barren body. Treat it with kindness. Forgive it. And if you need to, draw on it with a Sharpie if it makes you feel better. Infertility is a tough struggle. Give yourself—body and soul— a lot of grace.