What Infertility has Taught Me

A cousin of mine has just found out that she has a condition that will change her life.  It’s not terminal, but it certainly has far reaching permanent side effects.  We’ve never been super close, but we’ve started making efforts to establish a relationship.  She sent me the most personal email to date about this condition.  Here’s a snippet of my response:

I’m sorry that you may be staring down the barrel of surgery.  It’s a bit unnerving.  You’re right that your spinal cord and everything surrounding it is a very critical area.  One thing infertility has taught me is to not just dole out advice on something you know nothing about.  So, of course, I had a date with Dr. Google to look up what’s going on with you.  It sounds like the surgery won’t fix the problem, but prevent it from getting worse.  There’s a lot of information out there, and I’m sure you are pouring over it to figure out what to do.  I hope you find a path that you are comfortable with.  The decision can’t be easy, and I sympathize with you. 

I can understand the “I’m freakin’ defective,” frustrations.  I had seen numerous doctors about my painful periods, inability to get pregnant, and irregular bleeding.  None of them ever took me seriously or discovered my “birth defect.”  Hell, I had had the thing for 26 years and nobody knew?  Insane.  This is something they could have detected before I was even born.  Alas, it was discovered and I had to deal with it.  I got the wrong diagnosis several times.  Now that’s enough to drive you nuts.  I think I shed enough tears to create a size able pond in our back yard.  Coming to terms with what was wrong was no picnic.  I don’t think there is any one way to do this.  I’m certain I would still be pretty angry and upset if my surgery hadn’t been successful in correcting the issue.

I want you to know that you can talk about this with me any time.  Like I said, I have very little in the way of advice, but I listen well.  I promise to not pass judgment when it comes to your decisions, but rather I will respect them.  It’s your body, your life, and only you know you best.  Keep your chin up.  You will figure all of this out one day at a time. 

Her response was sweet, and the kind where you know that you said the right thing.  I can guarantee you that I would have said all of the wrong things prior to this infertility journey.  I’m not exactly saying that this is a perk of infertility, but perhaps a small silver lining.  Who knew a bum uterus could bring me closer with my family?  Certainly not me!

Explore posts in the same categories: Becky, Infertility