In Vitro Fertility Goddess

Infertility Rage!

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This morning I experienced the resurgence of an old rage. It was a rage that had never left me but had been lying relatively dormant over the last few years, since the birth of my daughter. Before her birth it used to be present a lot and in those days when I felt it, it would leave me speechless and in tears. Today it just made me very angry.

What triggered this feeling? Nothing really. At least nothing that anybody other than me was aware of. You see I was in a children's clothing shop, something that to this day I still feel a sense of utter privilege and joy to enter, something that should have made me happy.

At first I was very happy, cruising around picking up things at end of season sale for my daughter for next year. Then, as I was rooting in a bin near the counter for some last minute things to add to my purchases I noticed a heavily pregnant woman, or should I say, heard her first (God they can be loud, can't they, always keen to let as large a radius of the surrounding world as possible know all about them).

She was busy telling the two shop assistants how she was buying all these girl's clothes because she thought it would be a girl. She wasn't totally sure, mind you, but she ‘had a strong feeling' and it was what she'd always wanted. The assistants went all gooey and started ooohing and aaahing and I resisted the temptation to intercede with the story of a friend who'd had the same overwhelming notion and whose son spent the first year of his life in pink singlets.

At this point, let me say, I was slightly irritated. After all those years of struggle and even though I myself have been what some people must have thought a smug pregnant, I still have my old reaction when I see a fertility goddess (this was undoubtedly one - ‘We weren't even trying yet') flaunting her pregnancy. Still, that is my problem, the woman is entitled to do so.

It was what followed that really started to bother me. As I'd approached the second assistant with my purchases she started carrying on about her ‘poor sister-in-law' who found out a few months ago she was pregnant and was, quote, "Absolutely devastated". The woman already had three children (which begs the question, how on earth did she get ‘accidentally pregnant') and just didn't know what to do.

As the fertility goddess and other assistant were nodding sympathetically and saying,

"How awful for her" I could no longer stay silent. I said quietly: "It's funny, you know. How for every person who is devastated to find out they're pregnant there's someone who is devastated to find out they're not pregnant."

Now for all that trio knew I could have been talking about myself. Was there one ounce of sensitivity in response? No. Just blank looks and uncomfortable squirming from FG and the other assistant who were probably trying to comprehend what on earth I could mean and the one who had the ‘unfortunate sister-in-law' practically snapped at me.

"Oh she's OK now, since she found out it was a girl. She had three boys already."

I resisted the urge to say, "Thank God for that, imagine the poor kid's life if it was a boy," in case she hit me over the head with my shopping bag and she didn't say another thing. There was just an agitated uncomfortable silence for the rest of the transaction as I'd broken the smug reverie that had been going on.

Before I had my daughter I would have fled in tears but now I find the strength to respond to these people, who are basically speaking and acting out of ignorance. I'd like to think that, uncomfortable as those women felt, they might think about what I said and think twice about what they say in future.

Which brings me to an important question. Why are we the ones fleeing from gatherings, uncomfortable to talk about our issues while the fertile always get centre stage? I know it's partly because of the responses we get if we try, partly to ‘protect' others but I think it's important that we have a voice, not just among ourselves but as a valuable (even if we're not procreating) part of the community. This raises awareness which not only empowers us but down the track leads to policies being made that assist us.

Every parent I've met in recent years is aware of how I got to have my daughter, whether they wanted to know or not, and it's interesting how many people who haven't had fertility problems have read and responded incredibly positively to my book. Using humour wasn't just about cheering up others who are going through the same trials but was about making it easy for those without fertility problems to read and understand.

Hence by breaking down the barriers, such as I experienced in the shop this morning, I'd like to think that we would no longer have to feel so isolated when we are going through our ordeal and the fertility gods and goddesses of the world may be more appreciative of what they have instead of just flaunting it.

Jodi Panayotov author of In Vitro Fertility Goddess »