It’s National Fertility Awareness Week and my social feeds have been flooded with people sharing their stories, being open, honest and real. I’m joining the voices to help change the conversation about infertility.
Because I love a good list (who doesn’t?) here’s 7 things I’ve learned about infertility.
- It doesn’t discriminate.
Infertility doesn’t discriminate, it affects people seemingly at random. Young, old, rich, poor, marathon runners, couch potatoes. If infertility has chosen you, it will shrug heartlessly. So, you’ve been taking fertility vitamins for six months? Don’t care. You’ve given up alcohol? Pah, so what? You did a shoulder stand for a full half an hour after sex while you watched Coronation Street? Couldn’t give a monkeys. Nope, infertility takes no prisoners. It’s unfair and let’s be honest here, it’s more than a bit shit.
- It can sneak up on you.
If you’re like me and got a diagnosis of unexplained infertility, it probably took you by surprise and left you reeling. I didn’t know I was infertile until I started trying for a baby. I still don’t know why I was infertile but I do know in affects more than 1 in 8 couples and you don’t have to look far to find others fighting the same battle.
- It’s the club no one wants to join but with the best members.
What stands out to me most this week, is the love and support that people in the infertility community give so willingly to those they’ve never met. Because we know. We know the crushing disappointment at seeing one line on a stick. We know what’s it’s like to live your life in two weekly cycles. To do our very best to look happy when a friend tells us they’re pregnant and they weren’t even really trying. We know and we’re there for each other. We’re here in the middle of the night when you post photos of your negative pregnancy test. Or when you’re gearing up for your embryo transfer, wearing your best pineapple socks. Or when you’re about to do your first injection and are worried you’ll do it wrong or won’t be able to do it at all because you’re scared of needles and faint every time you have an injection. We see you and we’re here for you.
- It changes you permanently.
And not necessarily in a bad way. Those of you who’ve read my first book, Warrior, will know that I got my happy ending. I’m eternally grateful that my family is now complete. I know I’m blessed and in truth I wouldn’t change what I went through to get here. It’s changed me. In a good way. I don’t take things for granted. I have more humility and I always try to be sensitive to others people’s silent struggles.
- You’re not alone.
After I had my baby, I felt compelled to share my story. By then I knew I wasn’t alone in what I went through and I also knew I had an opportunity to help. I’ve since been humbled by personal messages from lovely readers who say my book has done just that and for me, that makes it worthwhile.
- It doesn’t leave you.
More recently, I’ve launched my second book, The Unchosen Life. I don’t think infertility really left me, as I was plagued by a feeling of What If? What if I hadn’t got pregnant? What if I hadn’t had a baby? I needed to know I’d have been okay anyway. Because that’s the reality for many women and there has to be life after infertility. There has to be. So, I dreamed up Clara. The woman whose infertility journey doesn’t end with a baby and how she goes on to find fulfilment in a life she didn’t choose.
- There’s always hope.
There’s hope for a happy ending, however it may look. Wherever you are in your infertility journey and whatever your personal circumstances, don’t let go of that hope. And know that whatever happens you’ll be okay. Seek out support and most of all, be kind to yourselves.
Love, Tori x
P.S. In support of National Fertility Awareness Week both Warrior and The Unchosen Life are 99p on Amazon Kindle for the whole of November.
Tori Day 