Finding an answer in the Unexplained

Unexplained Infertility messes with your head. Well, all infertility does, I know, but I’m an unexplained case; that is what I know and it confuses me. Sometimes I wish I had a reason why things haven’t worked out; a reason that was fixable, or gave us a clear plan in itself. I’m sure this wouldn’t make the pain any easier to bear, but the guess work involved in unexplained infertility sends the mind in to such a spin that sometimes it forces me to question what I really believe about myself and life.

Ridiculously, I feel like it would be more acceptable to society to be able to state a biological issue. Society would give a sympathetic smile, tilt its head and say, ‘Ah, that’s tough. I’m sorry. I hope the Docs can help you out.’ I cringe each time I’m asked if I plan (oh, if it was just that easy!) on having a child, sense the white elephant in the room when it’s not and hear the whispers in the background. It’s like I can hear their thoughts, awkwardly wanting to know the details. Society scrunches its eyebrows, confused and says, ‘Oh, you must be stressed out, you need to relax. Maybe you’re timing things wrong.’ Unexplained infertility feels like a dirty little secret. It feels like we are doing something wrong, messing things up for ourselves. The reality is that society isn’t society at all; it’s me. My inner demon. My own insecurities that have risen from this journey. The only thing I’ve got from those I have spoken to is support and/or sympathy. Although sympathy riles me. I don’t want your freakin’ sympathy! It is of no use to me. Support, great, but sympathy, no thanks.

I hate how I can feel so secretively angry with the world, and how infertility can make you feel like an outcast. Being ‘unexplained’ is isolating. It feels like no one wants to look deeper and that you are the only one trying to find a way to be ‘explained’. Above all, it makes no sense to me why, if everything appears to be working normally, a couple can’t get pregnant. It just doesn’t compute. Logically, there must be something causing a problem and it just hasn’t or can’t be picked up by conventional medicine. That opens up a whole new can of worms …Hours have been spent online trying to find something that might make sense and apply to me, only to feel like I’m trying to escape from inside a room with no windows and no doors. Unfixable. And yet the normal test results giving hope that one month, your body will miraculously fix itself. I feel like I’m spinning between infertility and the possibility of not being able to complete us naturally, and fertility, and the real possibility that any month could be the one when everything just falls in to place.

Not having a reason for our infertility issues, or lack of them, leads me to unhelpful thinking in the dark days. I think such negative things, all in attempt to find an explanation. For example, did I do something wrong in a previous life? Is this punishment for something? Could I be doing a better job with the Little One? Do I need to prove myself? Why do people less deserving get to be so fertile? Who am I to be so judgemental about whether anyone deserves a child? Maybe I’m being selfish and need to focus more on giving something to the world, rather than what I get out of reproducing? Maybe I wouldn’t cope with another child? See, really negative and unhelpful thinking … I don’t know what I think of past lives, or higher beings that make decisions about our life path. I’ve pondered these things before, but not in times of duress. Not when I feel I need a definitive answer. It’s crazy how the mind wants any explanation, even if it is something awful, just to know. To get some warped sense of peace. Luckily, my dark days pass quickly and I spend a lot of a cycle in the light, so I’m pretty sure I am not being punished because I think life is about balance. I have a wonderful life, but I am not immune to struggles. That is life. It is beautiful, ugly, cruel, kind, angry, calm, light and dark. For probably no reason at all, we have been in a difficult struggle for a while, but I know brighter times are ahead in some shape or form. There will be something positive to balance this negative.

5 thoughts on “Finding an answer in the Unexplained

  1. I know I’ve said this before – but I honestly think you must have spent some **serious** time in my head…. All of this – ALL of it – it’s like…me. Exactly. Just last night my hubby and I were talking about one of my newborn clients (I’m also a photographer:) who’s mom had serious complications after birth. I don’t know the details but I do know the mom had to have surgery – which makes me wonder if perhaps she will no longer have the ability to carry a baby. Which absolutely breaks my heart…but I was also jealous. Yes. Jealous. Jealous of that closure, jealous that she could grieve and be angry and that she could yell and scream and cry…and that people would understand. And that when people would ask her in the months and years to follow “so when are you going to have another one?” “isn’t it about time for Baby #2?!” “better get to work, time’s a tickin!” that she could look them in the eye and say “Well, I almost died after baby #1 and now I don’t have the ability to get pregnant again.” And then people would feel bad for asking. And maybe they would realize THAT IT’S NOT ALWAYS EASY TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY. I was jealous of that. How sick is that??? It also hits close to home, as I also had major complications after our daughter was born. I started hemorrhaging three days after her [completely normal] birth – for no apparent reason – and I almost died…. Seven blood transfusions later and the bleeding miraculously stopped – also for no reason. Later the doctors told me that it was just a flukey thing and they didn’t think I was in danger of that happening again. And there was no reason I shouldn’t be able to get pregnant again. But [a little part of me] now wishes my hopes for a biological second child would have ended right there. That the answer would have been definitive. That the doctors would have said “so so sorry.” And I know I would have been wrecked. Absolutely, positively devastated. But I wouldn’t have spent the last five years going through a very real grief process every.single.month due to this intangible “unexplained” infertility. It’s just so hard not to know…tooooootally there with you.

    • Thanks Megan! No closure seems tougher than closure sometimes. I’ve even wondered whether there is a deep down subconscious thing going on that is psychologically holding us back. I had a slightly traumatic birth, but nothing as terrifying as what you went through. Perhaps the worry that comes with being a parent is it? Or something I haven’t even figured out yet? Have you ever thought about this as a reason? xx

  2. Yes, I’ve TOTALLY wondered about that! In fact, I’ve done some pretty “weird” stuff over the years to try to clear any of that away (Body Code, “Tapping” for trapped emotions, craniosacral therapy). It all sounds pretty wackadoo but I can honestly say it’s helped my emotional healing (I had a LOT of repressed anger and fear surrounding the whole thing due to the treatment, or, rather, the lack thereof by the doctors here in my hometown). My hubby is also pretty traumatized by the memories…. So, yeah, it could totally be a component of our issues. My faith is a really big part of me surviving this whole thing [with my sanity intact!:)] and sometimes I wonder if God is trying to protect me from maybe *not* surviving a second baby….

    I’ve also wondered if my “mommy guilt” (feeling like I’m not doing a good enough job, am I “appreciating” my daughter enough, am I devoting enough time to being present in the moments with my daughter, etc, etc – basically all of those things we torture ourselves with) are messin’ with my subconscious/hormones/etc.

    But…basically I have no answers for any of it. Unfortunately:)

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