I used to participate in RESOLVE's NIAW (National Infertility Awareness Week) all week. Of course, it used to be more blog-focused and less influencer-focused, which made it somewhat easier for me to participate. It does feel like so much now is based in social media like Instagram and TikTok, and I am on neither. (Although I am increasingly considering Instagram.)
I am on Facebook off and on, and this past week I was doing a weeklong training in a structured literacy program that I could do from home, so I had a little more time to diddle around on my phone.
I saw things about NIAW, and one thing that really stood out to me was a post from my former fertility clinic. The post was lovely, a picture of staff and how their mission is to help people, but it was the comments that got my wheels turning. Every single one was someone posting pictures of their children. Things like "my Day 5 blast is graduating this year" which is incredible, and fantastic for the people who a) had Day 5 Blasts and b) had viable pregnancies and births. No shade on that at all. But when I saw comment after comment thanking the clinic for the existence of children, I felt like the narrative was skewed. And of course it is -- who is going to thank them for not succeeding?
Um, I did.
Because I need there to be representation that IVF DOESN'T ALWAYS WORK, despite media coverage to the contrary. Soooo I posted, "Thank you for your compassion during our journey -- we were not successful but are so grateful for the care you showed throughout every treatment and every loss. You are a special place! Special thanks to [awesome nurse and doctor here]."
And then I thought, Hmmm. I have a complicated relationship with the "not successful" statement.
So I posted my own post on my own page, that said this:
On this last day of NIAW (National Infertility Awareness Week, sponsored by RESOLVE), I would like to share some lesser-posted things:
- You can do fertility treatments, even IVF, and NOT get pregnant.
- You can do fertility treatments, even IVF, and NOT have a live birth.
- You can do all the things: supplements, yoga, acupuncture, steam your lady bits with a witchy herbal brew you squat over and hopefully don't burn your inner thighs, do positive intentions and cyclical guided meditation, take wheatgrass shots daily, do experimental protocols...and STILL NOT END WITH A BABY.
- You can feel like you've made your whole life revolve around doing everything "right," oozing positivity between clenched teeth, and STILL NOT END WITH A BABY.
- It can take a long time to realize you weren't at fault, you didn't "fail," and what worked for others doesn't work for everybody.
- You can suffer loss, and NOT end up with a Rainbow Baby, a Miracle Baby, a Dreams Do Come True Baby.
- What you can do is create a Rainbow LIFE.
- It is insanely hard to buck the "never ever give up" cult of positivity. To face comments about how you "gave up."
- It is not GIVING UP to choose the life you have over the life that you've hoped for. To say ENOUGH at any point in the journey. To remake your life into a new vision. To accept that everyone doesn't get everything.
Living a life without children when you really, really wanted them is not always easy, but it can be wonderful, fulfilling, and meaningful. It is for me, for us.
NOTE: Adoption is not "fertility treatment part II." It is its own process, and is often fraught with ethical swamps and a distinctive un-centering of adoptees, who have zero choice in the decision most of the time. Adoption can build a family, but usually that is by splitting up a first family. There are complexities that often aren't fully disclosed. You can also enter the adoption process and leave without parenting for a ton of reasons. Please, for the love of all that's holy, do not ask people if "They've considered adoption" or "Why don't you JUST adopt?"
I was overwhelmed by the response. So many people (several I was unaware of having these shared experiences) said YES. This. This is how I feel. Or, I understand more now. Or, sending love having gone through processes but parenting through various means.
I worry sometimes that when I put out my caveats about adoption, that it looks like sour grapes. That it didn't work for me, so I'm critical of the process. For me, it's not THIS DIDN'T WORK FOR ME, IT'S A BAD SYSTEM. It's that the more we learned about adoption, the more I spoke with and listened to adoptees and birth moms, the more I felt uncomfortable with the adoption process. I did go into adoption as "Fertility Treatment Part II." I really respect the countries that make you wait a year after fertility treatment before entering the adoption process, because that separates the two processes a bit more and encourages time for healing before starting another process. I was first shocked at how hard the adoption process was, then horrified at how adoptive parents were centered and how transactional everything felt, and how financial disparity figured in SO MUCH. It became very uncomfortable and while I still wanted to become a parent through adoption, I was not some sort of saint who left because it was unethical, I do think our increasing awareness about the ethical swamp of adoption made us unwilling to follow the agency's suggestions for how to "get more opportunities" to be seen and possibly matched. It's important to me that I am not presenting myself as some sort of "I'm better than you" person when it comes to adoption. It's just when you know more about a seriously flawed process and how it impacts those with the least agency, it makes it really hard to look back at the rosy-colored-glasses that we were given by the agency on how it's "when, not if you'll be a parent" when a) that's not true and b) it is SO much more complicated than that.
So, that's how I participated this year. On the last day. Putting out there that you can go through all that and have no baby, but you can advocate and share with people that your life is not sad, that while it's a huge loss it also opens other doors to other opportunities, and that you can figure out some way to remake your life after the loss of a dream.
These are the photos I attached to the post: one on our wedding day (such YOUNG people!) and one at our 16th anniversary weekend getaway this past October (such HAPPY people!).
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