It's none of your business

People seem to have an inordinate fascination with what is going on with a woman’s uterus and whether it is or is not or if it will ever be housing a fetus and it is none of your business.

Asking a woman if she’s going to have kids is a loaded question. It implies that her life is not complete if she doesn’t have kids. It suggests she needs to have kids. It is asking an extremely personal question about a major life decision that does not need to be shared or justified by anyone but herself and her partner. It is reminding a woman that she can’t have a baby, or has miscarried several, or that time is running out.

The decision to have children is personal. Some women do not want to have kids. There are many reasons why they may have made this decision, and it doesn’t have to do with hating kids or being selfish. There may be medical reasons, financial reasons, or just no desire to actually go through the process of pregnancy, labour, and actually raising a child.

Some women want kids more than they can possible describe. They long to feel a baby kicking, to hold their child in their arms, to watch a little person form and learn and grow. They will make the decision to have a child, and 9 months later baby will arrive. It will be difficult and trying and rewarding. When the time is right they will have another, or they’ll stop at one. Again, another personal decision that is none of your business.

Other women want kids but can’t have them. They struggle with infertility or recurrent pregnancy loss. Your question reminds them of what they can’t have and what they spend most of their time longing for. It reminds them of their dwindling bank accounts, the mornings crying on the bathroom floor as another period arrives, the frantic calls to their doctor because they are miscarrying for the first or second or fourth time. It reminds them that they are losing hope that they will ever have a child, the struggle not to start crying every time they see another pregnancy announcement, the heartbreak they feel as they decide if they can handle more or if it’s time to accept being child free not by choice.

I’m 30. I’ve been married for 2 years. I’m done school. My husband and I have great jobs. We are saving to buy a house. If I wanted a baby I’d have one. If I don’t there is a reason. It could be that we don’t want a baby. It could be that I want a baby and my husband does not or vice versa. It could be that I want a baby but can’t have one for medical reasons. Maybe my life will be at risk if I get pregnant. Maybe I have medical condition that will be aggravated by pregnancy. Maybe we are dealing with financial issues and can’t afford a baby. Maybe we want to build our careers or buy a house before having a baby. Maybe we’re dealing with infertility. Maybe we’ve done fertility treatments and they haven’t worked. Maybe we can’t afford fertility treatments. Maybe I’ve had a miscarriage. Maybe I’ve had several miscarriages. My uterus is none of your business. If you are not my doctor or my partner, think really hard about if it is any of your business if/when I’m going to start (or continue) having kids. (Answer – No, it is not). Your “innocent” question asked of the wrong person on the wrong day could mean your friend or family member is going to be sobbing the second she is alone.

Being infertile on Mother’s Day

Back when we started trying 16 cycles ago, I thought I’d get pregnant right away. My family is full of women that got pregnant easily so I had no reason to believe that I would be any different. Mother’s Day would have had me 12 weeks and I had already planned how to tell my parents. The baby would have been my parents first grandchild so I was going to send them a combined Mother’s Day and Father’s Day gift of mugs saying “World’s Best Grandma” and “World’s Best Grandpa” with an ultrasound picture. I didn’t get pregnant cycle 1, but there was always Father’s Day because I would for sure get pregnant cycle 2. I stopped planning announcements on cycle 8 when my OBGYN diagnosed me with infertility. Even then it never crossed my mind that I still wouldn’t even be pregnant the next time Mother’s Day rolled around.

I think the mothers in my life are amazing. They deserve a day to recognize how amazing they are. But getting through the past few weeks has been incredibly difficult. Everywhere I turn there are advertisements for Mother’s Day. “Show Mom some love by shopping our 30% off sale”, “Last minute Mother’s Day gifts”, “Buy a special gift for your Mom”, “Put Mom at the top of your list”. Social media is full of Mother’s Day things, including this new post going around my friends list: “Motherhood dare! (I accepted) I was nominated to post a picture that makes me happy/proud to be a mom... (only one picture) I'm going to tag some ladies whom I think are fabulous mothers (I know way too many to tag you all - sorry), and can rise up to the challenge of posting a pic of their own. If I've tagged you as one of the awesome moms, copy the text and paste it to your wall with a picture, and tag more moms! HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY (soon) to each of you xoxoxo "I LOVE BEING A MOM and I love all of YOU”

Every single one is a small stab to my heart reminding me that I’m not a mother. Despite doing everything I possibly can to become a mom, I am not. 15 failed cycles, including 2 failed intrauterine inseminations, 3 different doctors, 8 doctor visits, countless blood tests, an HSG, a transvaginal ultrasound, an abdominal ultrasound, 3 monitoring ultrasounds, $1200 on fertility treatments, $600 on medications, a semen analysis, ovulation prediction tests, pregnancy tests, fertility charting app, basel body temperature thermometer, 3 books on charting your cycles and increasing the chances on conception, many research articles on fertility and infertility treatments,  almost 2 years of prenatal vitamins with DHA, extra B vitamins, extra vitamin C, extra vitamin D, baby aspirin, Coenzyme Q, vitamins for my husband, Preseed lubricant – all I see is a stark white pregnancy test. I don’t get to see my husband kiss and talk to my belly. I don’t get to hold his hand and look at wonder at an ultrasound showing us our baby. I don’t get to feel my baby grow inside me, feel my baby kick. I don’t get to hold my baby with my husband, look into their eyes and think “we made you”.

While you are celebrating tomorrow, while you are posting things like the above on Facebook, and even while you are struggling with a difficult pregnancy, a challenging toddler or a mouthy teenager, take a minute – just one – to think about your friends and family that want so desperately to be mothers too. The ones with no living children. The ones struggling, doing everything they can to conceive. They may not have shared their story with you, but with 1 in 6 Canadian couples struggling with infertility and 1 in 4 that have miscarried, they are the woman in front of you at the grocery check out, and the one sitting next to you on the bus, the coworker in the office down the hall, your neighbour, your cousin, your friend. They are struggling to get through tomorrow and they are wishing and hoping and praying with every they have that next year, next year will be the year that they are a mother too.