Jess: So I
already have a blog written about miscarriage. I expect to write many more over
the years because it is an experience that just doesn’t go away. But I just
found out that this week in National Infertility Awareness Week. So let’s talk
about that.
There are all kinds of ways to be infertile. You can simply
be unable to conceive, period. You might only be able to have a baby with the
help of a surrogate. You might only be able to reproduce through IVF. You may
already have one or three or six children but have been actively trying to have
another and its just not happening. Or you can get pregnant (easily or
otherwise) only to have one or three or six losses.
Ever since losing our second child in October, I have been
on several boards dedicated to connecting people who have experienced losses in
pregnancy. I don’t know where I would be without that kind of support. And yet
I had to actively seek out that support
Why are we silent about fertility issues? We are overjoyed
when we get to share in new life. Yet we don’t know what to say to those who
want, but cannot seem to produce, their own children. We don’t know what to say
when we find out that our friends have been trying for over a year and cannot
get pregnant. We don’t know how to respond when we find out our neighbors will never have children of their own. And we
certainly don’t know how to comfort those who become pregnant only to miscarry,
or have a stillbirth.
Approximately half of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. At
least one third of known pregnancies
do not result in live children. This is not some rare disease or issue that
affects a few people in every 100,000. It’s more common than the flu. And that’s
not including those who are struggling with other infertility issues. When a loved
one has the flu, we know how to respond: we are careful about our own hygiene,
we bring them liquids, we allow them to rest.
How can we respond to those with infertility issues?
1) Listen. Listen if they want to share about infertility or
not. Let them know that you are there. Sometimes talking about fertility
challenges is impossible. I still get choked up talking about miscarriage.
Listen to whatever they have to say.
2) Express your sympathy in writing. We received a handful
of letters/notes from people after our miscarriage. Some people simply sent a
gift with no note or reason. What a beautiful way to acknowledge our need for
community and also our need for privacy.
3) Ask what the individual and family need. We have friends
who had trouble conceiving who didn’t want to be around pregnant women. I cannot get enough of babies, even when
I’m struggling with my own inability to have another. Figure out what they need
and do your best to get it for them.
4) Continue to check in. My miscarriage was over six months
ago. But the due date for that baby is only about 6 weeks away. I should be fat
with child and miserable right now. Instead, I’m looking at June 15 with worry
and sadness. Even when the due date passes, even if I get pregnant and have another
child, the one who was supposed to be born on June 15, 2015 won’t be here. That
date will feel much like the day my grandma died, or the day that I broke up
with my high school boyfriend. The pain might ease with time but we will never
get to know that child. For those struggling with infertility, each month
without getting pregnant is a reminder. The pain is real and constant. Be
there.
Wes: I don’t know
much about anatomy and physiology. I don’t know really anything at all about
biology. But I can honestly say that I know way too much about T.V.
Growing up, and even through college. I used to wonder why
so many of my favorite shows had storylines at some point in their multi-season
run that had something to do with having problems getting pregnant or with
miscarriages. The one that comes to mind immediately is Scrubs. Turk and Carla
try for so long to have a baby, and nothing seems to be happening the way it
should. Carla wants Turk to be tested to see if something is wrong with his
“swimmers”, but she wants to it secretly, because:
Carla is afraid that Turk will view a chanced infertility
reading as an attack on his masculinity. And she’s right. He does:
Even Carla won’t talk about it with just anybody. She only
broaches the subject with one person, her best friend. So embarrassing is this
issue that it immediately makes one person feel like less of a man and the
other feel like she has to act in secret.
And Scrubs is not alone in broaching this subject. Friends
does it. Boy Meets World does it. Smallville. Lost.
The list goes on. And I couldn’t figure out why these shows
would take airtime, budget, and entertainment risk to deal with such a…
personal… and… rare… thing.
Then we miscarried.
And it was just awful. And in the midst of the pain, and in
the midst of anger, and in the midst of the loss, I found myself thinking back
to Turk, in his underwear, curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom
floor. Rocking back and forth and questioning himself, the pain and the
heartache present even in the midst of a comedy show.
And I can honestly say that I’ve never felt more thankful
for courageous, real television.
There is a reason that these shows touch on such harsh,
uncomfortable moments of life: because
they are life. Problems of infertility and miscarriages are all around us.
I am sure that if I were to take a blind survey of everyone in my community—and
the people were to answer honestly—I would find that almost every family in
Kyle has been impacted in some way by this issue, either personally or
indirectly by someone close to them. I am sure that I would also find out that
the majority of these families and individuals don’t talk about it at all,
either because it is too painful, too embarrassing, or, more likely, a mixture of
both.
But we have to
talk about it. It’s life. And we are meant to live life in community. Strength
is found in numbers, and by leaning upon the support and encouragement of
others in our times of distress. Because the truth is that we are not alone in
this pain, and it is time for us to stop acting as if we were.
Let’s learn a lesson from Scrubs. Let’s be courageous enough
to talk about this, and find support in each other.
