The Top 8 Things I Wish I'd Known Before My Infertility Journey
I’ve been asked a few times about this journey and what it’s like — almost as if I’ve been living a double life and people want a peek into it. That’s pretty accurate, with all of the behind-the-scenes research, sleuthing to appointments in the wee hours of the morning, and secretly doing drugs on bathroom breaks. :)
So I thought I’d share a bit about what I wish I’d known and follow it up with some of my greatest learnings. I wrote this list in 15 minutes with the original title of “The Top 5 Things…” and instead landed on 8. I could probably keep going and come up with 80. The thing is, there is just so much that no one tells you about this other secret life. There is no manual, no roadmap, not even a compass.
The Top 8 Things I Wish I'd Known Before My Infertility Journey
It is just that: a journey. It will look more like summiting a treacherous peak than taking a pleasant beach stroll. It will require a team of sherpas to lead the way and carry the load. It will take so much longer than you predict or plan for.
Doctors don’t know everything. In fact, they’ll even tell you that. The most common answer you will receive — about your diagnoses, about your medical protocol, about others who have been in your situation, about outcomes — will be, “We just don’t know.”
You can be healthy and still be sick. Even if you have never had a major medical situation in your entire life, even if you eat well and exercise every damn day, even if you buy all the crystals and say all the prayers and do all the breath work…you can still be sick. There are often no signs you’re infertile until you just are.
We don’t have a healthcare system. In the U.S., we have a sick care system. We take care of people after they are diagnosed with an illness or condition, rather than preventing them from getting there. This applies to our fertility health and how we approach everything from sex ed to women’s wellness. We teach women (and men) how to prevent pregnancy, not promote fertility.
Every piece of advice is contradictory. One doctor will tell you that bedrest is critical for a successful pregnancy. Another will tell you that it’s absolutely essential that you move your body. One nurse will advise you to ice before injecting a needle into your hip. Another will say to use a heating pad. One friend will tell you that a certain protocol worked for them. And another will share their story of the exact opposite method. Every person is unique, and you will have to determine what you want to hold on to.
There is no source of truth. Parsing through all of the information from clinics, from Facebook groups that are more knowledgeable than many clinics, from friends who haven’t been on this journey, and from strangers who have will be exhausting. You will feel like you are in college studying for finals all over again. Except this time there are no right answers.
Find a hobby or four. You will need incredible amounts of distractions if you want to live a life that is not entirely consumed by fertility treatments. Read books that are about things you love (not about how to have kids). Learn a new skill that takes all of your focus (not one that allows your mind to wander). Take up a new physical activity you enjoy (not just one you’re doing to stay healthy). Time will move slowly, so fill it with things that bring you joy.
Practice gratitude. Be intentional about gratitude, because it will easily slip from your mind. Every day, write down something you are grateful for. Smile when you are thinking about it. Even better, share about it with someone else. Infertility is just one chapter, and there are so many more that make up your life story.
If you are embarking on this journey, what else would you like to know? I’m an open book.