It doesn't have to be a secret

Here's the deal: It is hard for me to have babies. And I LOVE babies. I love motherhood, and I heartily agree with all the cliche statements about it being the hardest, most rewarding thing. I wish I had more babies- but the fact is, most doctors would call what I struggle with, infertility. That's a diagnosis which, I think, is pretty taboo to most infertile, and non-infertile people alike. Probably because there's very few decisions more personal than whether or not to have children, or how many. (A luxury often taken for granted- the ability to bring babies here when you want them). Non-infertile people don't know what to say to broach the subject, or they want to say something, but are afraid they're going to make you cry. And while people do probably say insensitive or dumb things sometimes, (I've done it, and I've been through it), I think the worst mistake that you can make is just to wonder but not say anything at all. Because to someone who struggles to have children, like me, that issue is something that permeates every aspect of my life. It's a big part of my life that doesn't come up often in the course of normal conversation. But it's with me all the time, and I probably want to talk about it more. But because it's an ongoing struggle, I think I probably don't talk about it as much because I worry that people are tired of hearing about me. It is a burden to listen to news like that, I realize. And it's probably true that when I'm struggling or having a bad day and someone casually asks me, "How are you?" that it's more of just a greeting, like, "hi," than an actual invitation to listen to my problems. Maybe not. But I think most people don't like to hear bad news.

I think I have a double whammy taboo because not only do I have infertility as part of my life, I also have the death of a baby. If that's not taboo, I don't know what is. It's even more taboo than infertility and I probably end up talking about Cait (my baby) less, but from time to time, I wish I could talk about her more. Two really big parts of my life, two things that have been part of making me who I am. and they never come up. It's sad.

I think that the people like me, who struggle with infertility are not blameless either. And the thing is, it's not even really infertility. I think it's all kinds of personal struggles. What I wish is that we were all a little more open with each other about our problems. It's okay to be vulnerable. I think most people do not like to burden the people they love, with information that is hard. I don't. Also, I think that most people try to appear to be more perfect than they really are. I know I do. But I think everybody struggles with something, and I think our personal struggles don't have to be a secret. I think we'd all be better off by sharing. Why don't we want to let each other in?

For example, I'm tired of people not knowing that I struggle with infertility: I have two kids. I want more kids. Yes, I have my one girl, and one boy, and my kids are 9 and 5 years old, and you may think I'm done having kids, but I'm not! It just takes me a little longer. We've been trying to have more babies for about 4 years now, and taking medicine since September to help out with that, just as I did before we had Andrew. That's the truth and I really don't want to hide it, but the information hides itself because it doesn't come up in the course of normal conversation, it's not something you just casually volunteer, and most people, caring as they may be, just don't ask about it. And part of that is as it should be, I guess- I'd get awfully tired of everyone I know asking me, "are you pregnant yet? what's happening now? What's the doctor say?"

And as far as Cait goes, I still think about her. A lot. Not really with the same pain I used to have, but lots of times in the span of a week. And it's okay because- it happened. And she's part of me. But there's lots of people who don't even know about her. (And there's lots that do, but don't want to ask about her... even though it's okay, I'm totally okay, and given the chance, I'd probably talk your ear off.)

But here's a statement, true for any personal struggle. I really feel that you can't know me, really know me, and know my heart, unless you know what I've been through. And you can't know what I've been through, unless you ask. I don't want it to be a secret. And it doesn't have to be one.