It's not always a choice

I've been going back and forth about this post for a few days now, because I feel that it's important that I get it out, but I know full well that it will make some people uncomfortable.  The fact that I don't have many readers makes it an easy decision.

One thing I've learnt in the past year... it is a LOT harder to make a baby than your parents led you to believe when they had 'the talk' with you as a teenager!  All joking aside, I've learnt that when you see a young 30- or 40-something, happily married and without children - it is almost certainly not by choice.  And another thing I've learnt is the possibility of the altered reality of what it means to have a family.  

As Dave and I enter the 14th cycle of our trying to conceive journey, I know that the idealistic dream you have when you get married - that one day soon, children will follow - is not a given.  In fact, it's not even remotely a guarantee.  And as the post title suggests, it's not a choice either.  Not for me and not for the 9 women in my immediate circle who are struggling with infertility and not for the countless millions of others.  One in 7 couples is affected in some way by infertility - my own family has been touched by it before now.  It's just not something that we stop to consider will happen to us.  But it's not something to be ashamed of either. 

I am sometimes really angry, sometimes sad, but mostly indifferent to and very pragmatic about the news that I have a condition which will make falling pregnant incredibly difficult, but hopefully - dare I say it - not impossible.  I don't even like taking a paracetamol when I have a headache, so forcing fertility meds down my throat every 32 days is NOT how I envisioned this journey would pan out.  But living with PCOS and infertility means taking every bit of advice you're given, researching everything you can find on the internet, trying god knows how many different types of vitamins which are supposed to have helped countless women in your situation fall pregnant, to no avail.  I've tried accupuncture, herbs, vitamins, different types of food - you name it, all of us in this situation have probably tried it.  But none of that can help when a medical condition stands in the way of your body just not working as it should and a sticky bean.  We've joined forums, forged friendships in infertility circles, taken our temperatures every morning, taken countless ovulation tests, had enough blood tests to restock blood supplies in the country for 2 years, had ultrasound scans for which you're sent to the ward with - you guessed it - all the pregnant ladies on it.  And still nothing.  So you decide that you may need a little help - so what?  If we are lucky enough to fall pregnant, our loved ones will remember how beautiful we looked with pregnant bellies, we will remember how awful we felt with morning sickness, swollen ankles and heartburn and you know what your baby remembers?  Nothing.  None of it.  So does it matter in the grand scheme of things how you get your baby?  My instinct says no.  As long as you are absolutely the most grateful you can be when you eventually get your gift - that's what counts.

I read this article yesterday and at the end of it I thought 'well, wouldn't that be nice?'.  Have a bit of relaxing Reflexology and boom!  Baby.  I'm exaggerating, obviously, but I guess I'm just not a believer.  I tried to be, I absolutely gave into the whole alternative medicine thing and nearly bankrupted myself with weekly accupuncture sessions, but the problem with alternative medicine is that unless you feel stressed going in and don't feel stressed coming out, or have pain in your earlobe going in and don't have pain in your earlobe coming out, the simple fact of the matter is that you have absolutely no idea whether it's working or not.  So if you have time to go and feel relaxed and have money to burn, then I'm all for it.  But unfortunately, when you don't have an extra £200 a month lying around for alternative therapies, that idea has to fall by the wayside.  By all means, give it a shot, see if it's for you - one of my really good friends is a Reflexologist and I have always supported her 110% and indeed, am really interested in her work, so this is by no means a personal attack on those who practice alternative medicine, I'm just a sceptic.

I have always vowed not to let this process get me down and the minute I felt really stressed by it, I'd pull the plug.  I'm not a stressy person (though Dave may sometimes disagree), I don't tend to sweat the small stuff - as my lovely cousin once said about me.  But I had a meltdown about 2 weeks ago when I entered my temperature into the fertility app on my phone and it changed my ovulation date to 2 days later than I had originally thought.  Cue... meltdown.  It meant that the entire cycle was a bust.  I had a really angry moment in my morning shower and came out of it knowing that I didn't want to do it all anymore.  I don't want the vitamins, I don't want the fertility apps or forums, I don't want to have to take my temperature every morning.  I don't want any of it.  I want Dave and I to have a relationship free of timetables and deadlines.  And so that's what happened.  The thermometer went into the drawer, my fertility app hasn't seen the light of day since that Friday 2 weeks ago and I feel surprisingly liberated.  Some people only reach this point after 3 years of trying to conceive, but I made that vow to myself right at the beginning of this journey and I'm sticking to it.

So please don't tell somebody struggling on this journey to 'relax and it will happen' because another nugget of wisdom I've happened upon this year is that it just doesn't work like that.  And we hate that.  We hate having to put on a brave face when sucker punched in the stomach with a question about why we don't have kids.  We hate constantly being asked when we're going to 'get on with it'.  But most of all, speaking for me personally, I don't need sympathy.

I have had a number of people ask me 'when are you going to start a family?'  That is the term we all use to indicate that we are ready to move onto the next stage of our lives... 'we're ready to start a family'.  But what I've learnt in the past 14 months is that my family started the day I married - or possibly even met - Dave.  My immediate and extended family started the day I was born.  And if we don't get to have a little family of our own, that will be enough.

That's what I know for sure.