One in six people experiences infertility. But in a season focused on kids, you can feel like you’re the only one.
T his column is called Parenting Unfiltered. But today’s story focuses on people who want to become parents and can’t. Infertility affects 1 in 6 people worldwide, according to the World Health Organization. It’s a disease, defined by the inability to achieve a successful pregnancy, typically after a year of trying.
In October, the American Society for Reproductive Medicine issued an expanded and more inclusive description, stating that infertility involves “the need for medical intervention, including, but not limited to, the use of donor gametes or donor embryos in order to achieve a successful pregnancy either as an individual or with a partner,” applying to same-sex couples or single people.
And at the holidays — a time focused on kids! magic! miracles! — it can be downright soul-crushing, no matter who you are.
In this space, I try to give voice to the stuff we think about but might not say. That’s why I’m grateful to two women who spoke with me for this story, both of whom have important and very different infertility stories to share.
If you’re a working woman in Boston, chances are you’ve heard of Milton’s Kristina Tsipouras Miller. She runs Boston Business Women, a 43,000-member Facebook group for women’s networking, career advice, entrepreneurial events, and lots more. (Seriously: If you’re a female business owner, join her group!) She also owns beauty company Moroccan Magic.
But, last month, Miller posted a deeply personal story on the BBW page. Despite looking like she had it all — successful career, adorable toddler son, et cetera — she struggled with secondary infertility. She had dealt with infertility for a year and a half before conceiving her first child, Parker, and now it was happening all over again.
“I just got off the phone with the infertility doctor, and she shared that my geriatric age of 38 (what a horrible medical term!) means less chances of a healthy pregnancy. The call was filled with fear and frustration. But guess what? I’m dropping it all. I’m going to focus on manifesting healthy eggs, a healthy pregnancy, [and] child. I will visualize my family, and also lean into appreciation for what I already have,” she wrote on a page normally devoted to networking questions.
Miller — who could control so much — couldn’t control one of the most fundamental aspects of her life.
“Surrendering to patience was a big lesson,” she says.
Rockport’s Jennifer Redmond made a different choice. After years of trying, six rounds of infertility treatments, and one miscarriage a week before Christmas, she and her husband decided not to have children. The emotional roller coaster, the tests, the process had begun to sap the spontaneity from the simple joy of living.
“I felt like I was on a hamster wheel,” she says. “Infertility is exhausting physically, emotionally, financially.”
She had unexplained infertility, with no clear cause, and she and her husband reached a crossroads. It was time to move on.
“[An] a-ha moment of ‘we’re still a family’ led us to explore and ultimately decide on that resolution,” she says.
Redmond went on to become board president for the New England chapter of Resolve, the national infertility association. She’s also an integrative nutrition health coach, focusing on fertility and women’s reproductive health.
“I felt there was too much focus on illness and not enough on wellness in those categories,” she says.
If you’re trying to get pregnant or want to support someone who is, here’s what these two women want you to know, especially during the most wonderful time of the year.
People without kids are families, too.
“I feel like society doesn’t always define you that way when you don’t have kids, but I feel really strongly about that. [My husband and I] really felt like we needed to take our lives back,” Redmond says. “We decided to try that on for size. And after time, it really felt more than OK. It felt right. We decided that we were going to be a family, of two.”
You are not your fertility.
This is true, even when it feels like the planning is overtaking your life.
If you do really want children,
“Focus on what amazing parents and what type of parents you’re going to be, no matter how you get there. There are so many options now that weren’t always around. There is a bigger picture: Really, having faith that it will work out and not letting it become your life and your identity, I think, is important,” Miller says.
Yes, she’s trying to get pregnant again, but she also runs a company and has a life beyond tracking, trying, and testing.
Even well-meaning advice can sound really dumb, so don’t offer it unless asked.
“Somebody once said that I should paint my bedroom yellow, because it would be good feng shui, and then I’d get pregnant. Not helpful,” Redmond says.
A simple “I’m here if you want to talk” works better than new age décor advice.
“Quote-unquote ‘helpful’ suggestions generally aren’t supportive, because you can’t really know what the person is going through. These are often invisible losses, just like miscarriage can be an invisible loss,” Redmond says. “If somebody shared with you that they’re trying to conceive, the best thing you can say is, ‘I’m there for you. I’m here to listen. I’m going to take my cues from you.’”
You don’t owe anyone an explanation about your pregnancy status.
If you’re the one struggling? “It’s also about figuring out how much to share, and who you want to share it with. You’re not required to share it with anybody or everybody. It’s really important to know who you think your people are,” Redmond says.
And sometimes those people aren’t your family, especially nosy relatives whom you might encounter beneath the mistletoe.
“Family [can be] the people who will trigger you the most and ask the questions that other people might not ask. Be prepared. Think about what questions might get asked. And I think this is really important as women and as individuals: Shut out society. Shut out what anyone’s saying,” Miller says.
Have a secret code.
If you’re bracing for a social situation that might get awkward, conspire with your partner on an escape word.
“If we were at a holiday party or a family gathering, we had a phrase that meant: ‘We need to get out of here.’ We allowed ourselves to excuse ourselves from family gatherings if we weren’t feeling up to it, and I think that’s a really important thing. Or we just didn’t go and created some of our own traditions,” Redmond says.
Miller and her husband strategize ahead of embarking on potentially uncomfortable situations.
“Think: What are your non-negotiables? What’s healthy to share and not share? Discussing that with your partner before you show up is really helpful,” Miller says. “Being honest and transparent and making it a non-issue and completely normalizing it has been helpful for me.”
And, she says, the situation is normal: In fact, her sister also went through struggles before becoming pregnant.
“She’s gay, had a miscarriage at 12 weeks, intrauterine insemination, three rounds of IVF, and now has a beautiful baby girl,” she says. “We bonded over it all. … There are so many ways to grow a family.”
Last but definitely not least: You’re not alone; you’re not flawed.
“There’s a sense of shame and guilt, whether it’s male or female infertility. You often feel like you’re letting your partner down. ... I think that infertility often comes as a shock,” Redmond says. “One in six suffer from infertility. It’s a lot more common than we know.”