When traveling for the ART of Infertility, we are often asked how we manage to have full time jobs plus develop this project. We have spent a lot of time thinking and talking about this. Both of us have found healing through our involvement with this project, which has served as motivation for our commitment to the ART of Infertility. Yet, for both of us, we have also had to acknowledge that our commitment to this project has also impacted our family-building plans. Whether consciously or not (at this point it’s hard to determine), the ART of Infertility has become our metaphorical child in which we have dedicated our own resources, time and emotional energy into sharing the stories, art and voices of so many who have been able to complete their family. Yet, as we continue to work on this project, we continue to feel more or less poled to our own childfree resolution. Honestly, though, we both have felt some hesitation with disclosing to others that we are childfree. Truth is, it changes on a daily basis. Below we share with you some of our personal reflections on coming to think of ourselves as infertile and childfree. We also include perspectives from some of our peers who have been supportive throughout this process — allowing us to talk openly and honestly about the day-to-day struggles of figuring out if childfree is right for us.
-Elizabeth and Maria
My husband and I discontinued treatment a little over two years ago. After five years, five surgeries, ten treatment cycles, and one miscarriage, we were emotionally and physically exhausted. We needed time to grieve the biological child we would never have and regroup. After spending so many years focusing on infertility, we needed to relearn how to focus on ourselves and each other. We’re still relearning.
In the meantime, we decided we’d prevent pregnancy and give living childfree a go. It’s the resolution and infertility subset that I currently most identify, but, since we haven’t made a definite decision yet, I often feel like an imposter. I want to be 100% respectful of those who have truly reached that stage in their journey and are learning to navigate and living their lives childfree.
We’ve started looking into possibly pursuing using donor embryo and I’m conflicted. The part of me that still longs to parent one day says to give it a try. The part of me that has come so far in healing over the past two years is reluctant to open myself up to the roll of a dice it would be. What if it doesn’t work? What if I get pregnant and miscarry again? What if I become a parent and can’t devote the time to ART of IF that I want to be able to? What if?
I’ve spent a lot of my infertility journey coming to learn and accept that I can’t let society pressure me into thinking I haven’t done enough, that I haven’t tried enough, that I didn’t want parenthood enough. Instead, I need to make the best decision for my family of two. I’m comfortable now knowing that, in the end, I will do what’s best for us. That if I don’t choose to further pursue parenting, it isn’t about giving up, but choosing another path.
Those living without children after infertility have far too few resources for support and, perhaps, face some of the biggest stigma. I’m constantly trying to find an answer to how we can improve life for this group of those with infertility. So, I’m hoping you will all #startasking what you can do to help those living child free after infertility. Let’s get the discussion started with some insight from just a few who have reached this resolution.
“Am I infertile enough?”
This question lingers in my mind quite often. Five years ago, my husband and I began to come to terms that we were going to have difficulty conceiving. At the age of 24 and the oldest of two large Catholic families, coming to understand that we weren’t going to magically get knocked up was disorienting and isolating. For years, I had been told by numerous people that we should be very careful because we come from two very fertile families. I think back on these statements now and can only laugh at irony of it all.
In fact, I often think that all of these cautionary tales – to protect our fertility – actually has prevented our fertility. Now, I am not really superstitious, but sometimes that’s really what I think happened. You see, when Kevin and I were told that our next options were for me to undergo an HSG, our steps towards building a family were put on hold.
For years prior to my infertility, I have had difficulty undergoing OBGYN exams and treatments. And so the proposal that I do an HSG — with no anesthesia — seemed (and still does) impossible. Kevin knew that an HSG would be extremely challenging for me and so we put IUI and IVF off the table. We focused on our marriage, we started a RESOLVE support group for couples, and we both went to graduate school. For the past four years, we have really put off next steps in our family-building journey. And often, when asked where we reside in the infertility family scale, we say “we are leaning towards childfree.”
Yet, this past year, Kevin and I have privately been revisiting our inclination towards childfree. This past June, he got a new job with stellar infertility coverage. On top of that, in September 2016 both of us will be turning 30. And finally, this year will be the last year that I am in graduate school before I transition to a job. This forced us to rethink our options. And it forced to talk about guilt.
Both of us have attended Advocacy Day and have heard the stories of so many couples that would do anything to have the health insurance that we have. We struggled with this deeply. How do you say no to something so many would say yes to in an instant? But as we talked, we shared how far we have come to accepting ourselves as being infertile and childfree. This I do not think was intentionally done but simply kind of happened through a variety of choices we made in our journey. And so while we have agreed to not pursue any treatment or even adoption at this point, we also feel a bit hesitant to claim “childfree” as our resolution.
Truth is, saying that you are childfree and not quite 30 is a hard thing to swallow. I feel like I was never “an infertility warrior.” I feel like I wasn’t able to give it my all. I do — at times — feel like an imposter. But I hope that during #NIAW we will #startasking about how we can work towards more acceptable notions that being childfree (and even the need to do ALL of the treatments) isn’t a last resort — but a valid choice.
Thoughts on Inclusion
“Refer to us as a family. We ARE a family.” Brooke Kingston
“I would say invite us to things (like birthday parties, showers, etc), even if you think/know I won’t come. It can be so hard – sometimes we want to be included, and sometimes it’s too painful. My big fear is being left out. I want it to be my choice if I don’t participate, not to be excluded and forgotten.” Brooke Kingston
Discussions on Choice
“I would like to see you include think some discussion about choice. It is not a usual choice you wake up to – often you reach the limits of your treatment options or finances – so the decision or stopping point is chosen for you. I think choice makes it sound like we have more agency than we feel we do. I feel that when people say I made the choice to stop treatment, they minimize the extent of my grief.” Anonymous
“On the flip side, it’s been very important to me to phrase this as our choice. Our situation is different though and I acknowledge that. But we feel that we took power back when made our choice. “So we – even as a community – see this very differently, but it’s important that people know that we do not come to this resolution lightly or easily.” Brooke Kingston
“What is choice and what is making the best of a shitty situation? Ultimately we all want to feel whole and ok with our lot in life.” Anonymous
Ways to Help and Comments that Hurt
“People can help by understanding that I’m going to be grieving my whole life, as friends experience milestones with their children.” Brooke Kingston
“One of the most hurtful and misunderstood things I have heard about being childless after infertility, is that we didn’t want to be parents bad enough. That couldn’t be further from the truth. We endured more treatments than most precisely because we were so committed to conceiving our children.” Anonymous
“It is heartbreaking to have to let go your potential children. It is a pain that goes far beyond integrating an infertility diagnosis.” Anonymous
“And for me, you know my biggest trigger is the whole “never give up” type sentiments that are in tons of IF posts so those of us that chose to move on (or the choice was made for us) – those statements add to the feeling of failure. Like, if I *really* wanted a child I should have gone further in debt, risk more heartache and physical pain than I already had and what? Just kept going until bankruptcy or menopause, which ever came first just so I could say I never gave up?” Kati K.
“I also hate when people continue to tell us not to give up now that we have chosen. What I needed to move on and live my life included closing that door (with birth control). I was NOT in a good place when that door was still open and I was on the roller coaster. Don’t tell me that you’ll keep hoping for me. Hope for what I want: a loving, full, and fun life with my husband, amazing relationships with our nieces and nephews, and continued peace with our decision. The best way to support us is to hope for what we’re hoping for and help us achieve it.” Brooke Kingston
If you’re living childfree after infertility, what would you want people to know? What would help you feel supported? We look forward to hearing your thoughts.