The Language of Infertility

I have been thinking a lot recently about how amazingly fortunate I am to be a mother. I often think about what I went through to get here and so many other hopeful women and men facing their own struggles with being involuntarily childless. I hate that any of us have to live that term but I love how accurately it represents what the experience is truly like and I am so grateful to the sociologists I referenced in my literary review for coining it. Language is a crucial part of any cause and using the right language can make a world of difference in reaching those in need and enacting change. With that said, I truly think the term "involuntarily childlessness" is an important and deeply relevant term that needs to be used more within our community. 

Yes, infertility is still a very important and powerful term. It gives us a medical diagnoses, a definable issue to understand to dissect and try to cope with. But for me and I think for so many others who struggle with "infertility", the term itself leaves us feeling incomplete. It doesn't quite encompass what our struggle is really about. It is the word that isn't quite the word you were looking for, but settle on when the right one never makes it off the tip of your tongue. It's good but not good enough. It acknowledges that those of us unable to easily have children are facing something real and big and difficult but it leaves so much more out. It isolates those of us that can conceive but suffer from tragic losses. It discounts entire groups of women and men who find themselves ready, willing and wanting children but not in a socially acceptable position to have them and therefore afraid to or unable to actually try. It fails to include those feeling a new surge of pain at a disrupted adoption, a failed cycle, a canceled donor or a lost pregnancy. It leaves out the millions of people struggling month after month who have yet to pay a visit to a doctor and receive an official infertility diagnoses. Most importantly, it fails to adequately name what matters most to those who are facing it. Specifically, people with infertility, often don't care about being infertile as much as they care about not having children despite wanting them more than anything. Infertile is second to being involuntarily childless.

At least, that's how it was for me. When I did the research for my paper and found that term, it really spoke to me because that is how I identified myself over just about everything else. I have an official diagnoses. I know exactly why I can't get pregnant on my own. I am medically infertile and it definitely matters to me. I have gone through my fair share of feeling betrayed by my body, being angry at myself, feeling like less of a woman, less of person for being unable to conceive. But conception was always the smallest aspects of the mountain of emotions I felt when struggling with infertility. What mattered to me more was that I wanted to be a mom. I wanted a child to care for, to raise, to clean up after, to spit up in my hair, to kiss, to set curfews for, to cuddle, to love. What broke my heart on every holiday, every weekend outing, every quiet morning wasn't a medical term but the deep feeling of sadness at wanting more than anything a child with whom to celebrate and experience all the wonderful and all of the every day joys of life, but having empty arms anyway.

I know there are so many women and men out there who have felt that pain who might not consider themselves "infertile". Who don't know about RESOLVE, don't attend support groups or seek medical care. Maybe they just aren't there yet or don't want to face something so daunting or scary. I will never forget opening up to a friend about how emotional and difficult it was trying to conceive and how broken-hearted I was about being infertile. At the time I hadn't been officially diagnosed or started treatment yet. Because of this, she tried to comfort me that I wasn't really infertile. I didn't have to do anything crazy like IVF (gasp!). But despite my lack of diagnoses, I still clung to the term because I knew what I was going through was more than just "TTC". I had been on that road for far too long and been through far too much pain. I was involuntarily childless. I wonder if we integrated that term into the discussion on infertility and loss more often if we might be able to reach more people in need of support. I also wonder if we might be able to better reach those who have never had to experience a life of involuntary childlessness and allow them to more easily empathize and understand our experiences. Yes, some infertile people adopt, some have babies through ART and some never have children but what we all have in common is that none of us chose to be faced with those decisions. We all grow up presumptively believing that one day, when we are ready, we will be able to be parents. It's just a given. But for 1 in 6 of us having children doesn't turn out to be something automatic and instantaneous and I think this term helps convey that. 

Of course, I don't want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. The term "infertility" is still very real and very needed. Just as infertility does not encompass the entire experience, neither does the term involuntary childless. Secondary infertility is very real, very prevalent and very important. I in no way wish to discount the very emotional struggle of parents facing difficulty conceiving for the 2nd, 3rd or even 4th time. Infertility still matters. I am still faced with it nearly every day and will be swimming in it again when I go back for another FET to hopefully have a second child one day.  While I still am and always be infertile, I am enormously blessed to no longer be involuntarily childless. These two terms, while incredibly similar aren't exactly the same and I pledge to do my part to acknowledge and provide support and advocacy for both experiences.

Is There Such a Thing as an Infertility Scholar?

Remember a little while ago, I talked about wanting to go back to school pursue my master's degree? And I said I wanted to focus on an education that somehow contributed to the IF community? Well, this month I took my first steps toward that goal and began an undergrad class that I need as a prereq for my grad work. And for my first assignment, I did just what I had hoped to and focused my research on the IF community! I know this is crazy geeky to admit, but I really had fun writing this paper and genuinely enjoy this class in general. I mentioned sharing it on my blog, which some of you were excited about, so now that it has been turned in and graded (I got an A!) here it is! Keep in mind, I was working within the confines of an assignment, so this is not comprehensive. Honestly, there were so many more aspects I wanted to tackle and I had all the research to do it, but it couldn't be longer than 2 pages, so I had to keep a narrower focus.  Despite the fun I had researching and writing this sociological literary review on infertility's effect on identity, it might still read as dull for some of you, so if you just skim or decide to pass on reading it altogether, I won't be offended. I think it is a fascinating subject though and I would love to learn more and eventually see the issues surrounding infertility more incorporated in academia. So without further adieu: 

The Effect Of Infertility on Gender and Identity

            Most young men and women approach adulthood with the assumption that they will become parents (Peterson et al 2006). While career and life goals constantly shift throughout childhood and adolescence, the social expectation that girls and boys grow up to become moms and dads does not waver and many young children spend their time imagining what it will be like to become a parent (Ulrich and Weatherall 2000). When this vision does not come to fruition naturally and easily, the resulting shift in one's lifelong understanding of identity can be monumental. Research indicates that both men and women facing infertility or involuntary childlessness undergo dramatic shifts in identity, gender roles and self-definition as a result of their experiences. 

 

              Numerous studies on the impact of infertility have shown the negative effects the condition can have on identity and sense of self. Nearly every study conducted found a correlation between the experience of infertility and feelings of grief, uncertainty, loss of control and personal failure ( Zucker 1999; Webb and Daniluk 1999). In a study of women facing various reproductive difficulties, Zucker (1999) noted that women experiencing infertility more often reported feelings of failure and uncertainty than the other, non-infertile, groups. These feelings are not exclusive to women, as Webb and Daniluk (1999) observed that the men in their study experienced a deep sense of grief, powerlessness, loss of control and personal inadequacy as a result of infertility. This loss of identity and control in one's life is not limited to the area of fertility. Quite often this sense of failure and powerlessness pervades into every aspect of one's life as a result of the feeling of lost control over one's own body and reproductive choices (Letherby 2002). 

 

              More profound than this general sense of loss and personal failure, is the rate at which both men and women feel like failures in their respective gender roles. Women, for instance, feel pressured by an expectation of motherhood and due to this socially constructed ideal of women as mothers often feel that they have failed as women if they become involuntarily childless (Ulrich and Weatherall 2000). Letherby's studies show that it is often considered socially unacceptable for women to be childless or to live as “non-mothers” and therefore these women experience social stigma and the feeling of not being “real” women (1999 and 2002). Similarly, men report feeling pressure from family, friends and society to become fathers and perceive an assault on their masculinity if they are confronted with infertility (Webb and Daniluk 1999). This perceived loss of manhood due to infertility can be so pervasive that some men in the study by Webb and Daniluk (1999) attempted to prove their masculinity through extra-marital affairs or “super-jock” behavior. Even men who did not become hyper-masculine in the study, still reported the desire to conform to traditional male gender roles to be “strong” and not share their pain or emotions with anyone else when first confronted with their infertility. The prevailing theory on behaviors such as this, is that men and women when faced with threats to their identity or sense of self control, seek to compensate these feelings by exerting more control in other areas of their lives or reaffirming gender roles in alternative ways (Zucker 1999; Webb and Daniluk 1999). Studies on the differences in coping mechanisms between men and women facing infertility demonstrate this by showing that both genders initially embrace coping methods traditionally associated with their gender, such as seeking social support for women and distancing or avoidance for men (Peterson et al 2006). 

 

             Ultimately however, the effects of infertility on identity as it relates to gender roles proves to be transformative rather than merely negative. As a result of these feelings of failure, both men and women are forced to reconstruct and redefine what it is to be a man or a woman. They inevitably learn to separate their sense of femininity and masculinity from their reproductive abilities and develop of sense of self-worth that is not tied to their fertility (Webb and Daniluk 1999). This redefinition of gender roles in response to infertility is shown to provide great emotional benefit to both husbands and wives, as it allows both partners to be more actively involved in treatment and to better share the experience (Peterson et al 2006). Men especially seem to benefit from the reconstruction of gender roles and research shows the process allows men to feel more comfortable expressing aspects of their personalities traditionally assigned to female roles such as compassion, empathy, communication and connectedness. These men report feeling changed in positive ways that not only strengthen their marriages and families but their sense of self as well, as they feel unburdened from strict gender role expectations and free to live “lives that more fully reflect their complete humanity” (Webb and Daniluk 1999:22). Women also are shown to utilize education and other resources in order to cope with infertility's negative experiences and draw positive effects from them (Zucker 1999). Many women report finding peace with infertility by challenging the conventional definitions of 'mother' as well as the notion that motherhood is a woman's only valuable contribution to society (Ulrich and Weatherall 2000). It can be argued that in redefining their own womanhood, these women resist being reduced to gender stereotypes and demand that society recognize their multi-faceted existence. It is important to note however, that transitions in identity are not one-dimensional nor do they occur in a linear fashion. Many subjects report feeling negative emotions and positive shifts simultaneously (Letherby 2002), suggesting that infertility's effect on the self is layered and complex. 

 

               It is also important to be aware of the limitations of current studies conducted on infertility as it relates to identity as well as the limitations on studies of infertility as a whole. Nearly all of the research in this area has been conducted on predominately female subjects who are white, heterosexual, married and middle/upper class (Ulrich and Weatherall 2000; Letherby 2002; Peterson et al 2006). This area of research may greatly benefit from more inclusive studies incorporating the experiences of homosexual couples, diverse races, lower income groups and single persons identifying as infertile (Ulrich and Weatherall 2000; Letherby 2002). It should also be noted that a large majority of research subjects have undergone medical treatment and/or determined a resolution for their infertility. Very little research has been done on the millions of men and women experiencing infertility who never seek conventional treatment, due in large part to the difficulty in locating willing research participants (Letherby 1999). 

 

              Despite these limitations, it is clear in reviewing the current literature that the social condition of involuntary childlessness has a profound effect on the gender roles, self-definition and identity of those who experience it. As is clearly shown by these studies, transitions in identity are often multidimensional and pervasive into all areas of life. Perhaps the most intriguing example of this is seen in the progression of identity. As argued by Ulrich and Weatherall (2000) and Letherby (2002), although initial self-perception may involve failure or inadequacy, these men and women ultimately realize that in facing the grief, loss and pain of their infertility, they are not passive victims of their condition but instead active survivors. Continued study on the process of re-constructing gender, identity and most significantly survivor status by those experiencing involuntary childlessness can do much to provide guidance, support and social acceptance to the more than 7 million people in the U.S. faced with infertility.

References

Letherby, Gayle. 1999. “Other Than Mother and Mothers As Others: the experience of motherhood and non-motherhood in relation to infertility and involuntary childlessness.” Women's Studies International Forum 22(3): 359-372.

Letherby, Gayle. 2002. “Challenging Dominant Discourses: identity and change and the experience of ‘infertility’ and ‘involuntary childlessness.” Journal of Gender Studies 11(3): 277-288.

Peterson, D.B., C.R. Newton, K.H. Rosen, and G.E. Skaggs. 2006. “Gender differences in how men and women who are referred for IVF cope with infertility stress.” Human Reproduction 21(9): 2443-2449.

Ulrich, Miriam and Ann Weatherall. 2000. “Motherhood and Infertility: Viewing Motherhood Through the Lens of Infertility.” Feminism and Psychology 10(3): 323-336.

Webb, Russell E. and Judith C. Daniluk. 1999. “End of the Line: Infertile Men's Experiences of Being Unable to Produce a Child.” Men and Masculinities 2(1): 6-25.

Zucker, Alyssa N. 1999. “The Psychological Impact of Reproductive Difficulties on Women's Lives.” Sex Roles 40(9/10): 767-786.

P.S. If you haven't already, and you feel so inclined, please don't forget to stop by Resolve to read and vote for this year's Hope Award for Best Blog! Thank you! http://resolve.org/vote

What An Honor!

I haven't been the most consistent blogger in the past year. I try to write what's on my mind and in my heart as often as possible and I always have posts written in my head, but somewhere between the thought process and my keyboard I lose focus and it never actually gets written. I never let myself off the hook for National Infertility Awareness Week though, and I always do everything I can to write a post that really means something to me and hopefully to anyone that reads it. Last week, I found out that my blog post for this year's NIAW is one of 5 nominees for RESOLVE's Hope Award for Best Blog!

 I know it sounds cliche, but it really is an honor just to be nominated, especially alongside such amazing bloggers. This is THE blog award within the infertility community and just knowing that my post will be seen as fellow IF bloggers and readers take the time to read posts before voting means so much to me. 

You don't have to vote for me, or anyone for that matter if you don't want to, but please take the time to read all of the incredible posts nominated on this year's theme "Don't Ignore". http://resolve.org/vote

This blog and this community has been such a tremendous source of support and hope for me and this recognition reminds me that I was much as I get from the community, I have the ability to give to it too.

I'm Back!

I'm back! Back from what you ask? Well back to blogging after a nearly 4 week absence for one and back home from a week of fun with Chad's family for another. Yes I said fun with my in-laws! All of them! Chad, Eliana and I spent a week swimming, rock-sliding, kayaking, playing games and celebrating with his brother and sister and their families at his parent's cabin in the Georgia mountains. I know to many of you this sounds crazy, but I adore the family I married into. I cried when we left. I am a lucky girl. 

We created so many wonderful memories this past week. This is going to sound ultra-cheesy, but every moment felt special and amazing simply because our daughter was there to share it with us. Throughout the week, I couldn't help but notice how much more "in the moment" I felt than the last time I had been there. I could smile and mean it. I could laugh without forcing myself. I never had to fight back tears or pretend to be having more fun than I was because I really was having a great time. The last time the entire family was together in this cabin still held plenty of happy moments for me, but mostly I was hurting. It was Christmas 2009 and as we boarded the plane for the trip, I was anxiously waiting to see whether AF would show up after an incredibly difficult and emotional 2ww. Her arrival on Christmas morning was a stab to my heart that was almost too much to bear and spending time with my nieces and nephews provided me the contradictory experience of both easing my broken heart and exacerbating it. I will never forget the chain of crying that occurred on Christmas day. One of my sisters-in-law was in tears due to a challenge she was facing with her son's behavior, followed quickly with tears from other sister-in-law who was also crying and overwhelmed by her oldest child's behavior. Que me sobbing my eyes out in the corner because although I knew their struggles were real, and challenging, I wanted more than anything to have a son or daughter's difficult behavior to cry about.

This trip was heads and tails different than that experience. It made me realize just how much my heart has healed since becoming a mom. I didn't ache or hurt when we celebrated my sister-in-law's pregnancy with a surprise shower. I could enjoy my nieces and nephews and watch them play without feeling sad or wistful. Being able to really be me this time, I could see just how hard those family events really used to be for me, just how guarded and detached I really was. I didn't feel like I was fully apart of these occasions then. I felt like Chad and I were the odd ones out. The only ones with empty laps and empty arms. I wasn't myself, I was nearly consumed by infertility. That experience was always right on top of my conscious thoughts throughout the week, and it kept me grounded and happy. I didn't get particularly bothered when my dinner got cold because I was busy cutting up bite sized meals for Eliana, or when she woke up early from her naps because she was asleep in an open loft without much protection from noise because these were the problems I cried for the last time I was here. I am not trying to be a saint or idealize things. I'm a normal woman who was grateful to have my mother-in-law volunteer to watch my daughter so I could have a break. But I also truly felt so incredibly lucky and grateful to have a toddler demanding my attention when I was trying to have an adult conversation instead of being left alone with the empty, achy feeling of childlessness after everyone else has pulled away by their kids needs for attention.

I think the best part of this week though, wasn't my experience, it was hers. Watching Eliana play and giggle with her cousins made me melt in a way I can't even describe. All four of them were so incredibly sweet with her and she was in awe of each of them. She followed the girls around, trying to imitate them and take part in their games. She let the boys cuddle her and care for her and giggled at their silly faces. She found her uncles to be almost as hilarious as Daddy and let her aunts paint her toenails and play lap games with her. She trusted her Grandmommy completely and just flat out adored her Grandaddy. She spent the entire week laughing, playing, learning and being loved. I am so thrilled that this is her family. That she is blessed to be related to such amazing people. But it also kills me that she has to live so far away from all of them, that she'll have these experiences only every so often instead of often. It's the same story with my side of the family. I am incredibly close to my mom and sister and they adore Eliana almost as much as I do. The last time they visited, she screamed when she watched them walk away into the airport, she wasn't ready to say goodbye. And neither was I. I feel incredibly guilty to be raising my daughter without more constant interaction with the family that loves her so much. But I also feel so blessed that she has the family that she does, that she loves spending time with them so much that I wish there was more of it rather than less. And I am grateful that both my family from childhood and the family I married into, love me as much as they do so that with their support I could be true to myself in both the heartbreak of infertility and the joy of motherhood.

Second Time Around?

It's official: my sweet little Snow Pea isn't a baby anymore. She is 14 months old as of a few days ago and she is walking and talking a little more each day. Despite my all of my attempts to savor every second and slow down time, she has become a toddler. 

It is an amazing stage really. I love the sound of curiosity in her voice asking "What's that?" and I do my best to answer as enthusiastically the 400th time she asks as I do the 1st. Even better is when she asks, I answer and she responds, "ooo cool". I love watching her toddle into the kitchen every morning- step, step, fall, crawl- to pull open every cabinet until she finds the small saucepan the is just the perfect size for carrying around and banging on the floor. I love hear her exclaim "woof, woof!" anytime she hears or sees a dog. I love how absolutely nuts she goes when a playground is in eyesight, begging to go play by signing "more, please, more, please, please". Speaking of signing, I am blown away by all of the signs she does! She knows about 40 now and the other day, Chad and I spied on her pulling all the books from her shelves and "reading" them to herself by flipping through the pages and doing the signs for every picture she knew the word for. It was amazing! 


Toddlerhood is not without its challenges though. As she gets older she is learning more about what she likes and does not like and can get pretty demanding and whiny. Our new nickname for her is "Yelly Ellie" because she is quite vocal with her opinions. She also has no problem physically pushing someone away if they get too close and she doesn't want them to. She has done it to both myself and Chad, as well as a few of her baby friends and even a stranger who wanted to say hi but made the mistake of penetrating Eliana's "bubble". She throws food on the floor, arches and wiggles out of our arms anytime we try to hold her and gets into EVERYTHING. Anyone with a toddler and a clean house must be a superhero. 


All this toddler stuff really is great, but I feel like it snuck up on me. I knew it would go fast but I really can't get over how quickly her baby days flew by. It's like I blinked and they were over!  And now that she is no longer a "baby", the inevitable questions about when we will try for number two have started. I am now very outspoken about my infertility and the nature of Eliana's conception, so thankfully most people know and try to be respectful when they ask. I make sure they know I am completely ok with answering anything they want to know. I do find it interesting though that almost everyone's first question is whether a FET means we get to choose the sex of our baby. (The answer is no, in case you are wondering. The embryos do have a genetic make-up that is male or female but there is no way of finding that out without costly and risky genetic testing, which is typically reserved for cases of medical need).

Every time I'm asked I have to really stop and think about my answer. Chad and I have had a plan for a while now that we would revisit Dr Jedi for another FET sometime in the first half of 2013. But as my Snow Pea continues to grow, I find myself daydreaming of another tiny baby in the house. I begin romanticizing late night feedings and newborn cries. I even caught myself researching baby names & texting Chad for his input, just like I did when I was pregnant. More and more I can see a sibling for Eliana. I almost feel ready to have that baby. But when I think about what it would take to make that happen, I realize I am nowhere near ready to go through that process again. 

The sleepless nights, the aching back, the swollen feet, the leaky boobs. None of it was easy, but none of it compared to the anxious hopes, the empty arms, the broken heart. I try to relive what another treatment cycle would be like, and it emotionally overwhelms me. I don't think I always realize just how much having Eliana in my arms has healed me. Taken away the pain, anxiety and fear that I lived with daily. A day without tears was a rarity in my life not too long ago, now the opposite is true. It's unbelievable how much happiness she has brought into my life. But I remember those emotions, that pain. I know how easily they could come back as I anxiously hope and pray myself through another two week wait or a BFN. 

I admit though, the next time around won't be nearly as emotional as the last. If we attempt a FET without success, I will be disappointed and emotional, but it won't be as devastating now that we have our sweet girl to hold on to for comfort. The stakes will never be as high as they were before I became a mom. Even if we aren't fortunate enough to ever have another child, we will always be parents to this amazing little girl. I know all of that, but I am still not ready. I want another child, I do. I want a sibling for Eliana. And if it was as simple as just that, who knows what our choice would be, but the fact is that it's not that simple and I am not yet ready to leave my happy bubble to dive back into treatment and the anxiety that comes with it. Thankfully, we have no reason to rush. I can focus on parenting our toddler and my educational goals and cross the FET bridge when we get to it. And I know that I will get through that future cycle no matter what happens. I have learned so much on this journey and connected with so many incredible, supportive people, and I know those things will help see me through any difficulty I may face. We'll get there. In the meantime, I am going to keep working on my "slow down time" machine

Wordless Wednesday: Easy As ABC

I had a free photobook code sitting around and of course, waited until the absolute second to even think about it. I didn't want it to go to waste though so at the last minute I put this book together for Snow Pea to add to her library. I wrote it myself based on the photos and I have to say I am pretty excited about how it turned out!

Click here to view this photo book larger

The Next Level

For years, I have praised the amazing and supportive relationships in the infertility community found on twitter. Truly, the friends I have found there have helped me to get through some of the most difficult moments of my life and I am forever grateful. Many of us have known each other for 3 or 4 years now. We have been there for each other through BFNs, miscarriages, homestudies, natural cycles, medicated cycles, surgeries, successes, joys and heartbreaks. As more than one person has put it, we were there in the trenches together. When the outside world couldn't understand our pain, our hurt, when we couldn't tolerate yet another happy birth announcement or cute kid story on Facebook, we had Twitter and each other to turn to for support. 

But over the past year or so I have witnessed an ever increasing divide between those of us who have been blessed with the children we have dreamed, hoped and cried for and those in our community who are still in those trenches with empty arms. Naturally, those who have crossed over into motherhood (myself included) have been tweeting and blogging about their new roles in life - their challenges in pregnancy, adoption finalizations and ultimately parenthood. And many amazing women who were there to support us in our journey to parenthood are forced to watch their support system shrink as their timelines fill with more and more tweets about breastfeeding and cranky toddlers. I have blogged in the past about infertility survivor's guilt and I experience it almost every time I am on twitter when I see the hurt and isolation in many of my beloved friend's tweets. Which is why I wasn't surprised when I recently learned that many of my favorite twitter pals have decided to deactivate their accounts or begin trimming down who they follow to focus solely on those who are still in shoes they can relate to. I completely understand and support their decision to move on from that aspect of the community because it is no longer fulfilling their needs. We are not the same community we were when we started. Of course I am overjoyed for those of us who are now mothers, but I am also heartbroken for those who are feeling left behind. I want so badly to be able to give the same love and support I once did, but I know that while I can represent hope I can't be back in their shoes and that is something people need. I know I did. 

When I went through my miscarriage in 2010, Twitter was a source of so much support and love, but it was also a source of tremendous pain. My BFP came on the heels of a couple of others and was followed by quite a few more. All of their pregnancies continued on after mine ended, and for the longest time I had to skip over tweets from many of those women. I just couldn't bear to be reminded of where my pregnancy would be by reading what was happening in theirs. Now that I have had my successful pregnancy, I carry that feeling with me and know it's not personal when someone pulls away or un-follows me online. I know that as much as I don't want to, I have the potential to be that painful reminder to someone else and it kills me. I love this community so much and hate to think I could cause anyone to hurt. Infertility does not define me but it certainly has become a part of me and while I can't serve the same role in this community as I did when I started, I can still find ways to advocate for support, understanding and awareness. 

Before my life was consumed by the infertility battle, I worked as a Victim Advocate, primarily providing support to survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence. I loved my job and was beyond passionate about victim rights. It was demanding work however, and I made the decision to step away so that I could focus on building my family. It has been over 3 years since then and now that I am contemplating my return to a career, I have realized that my experiences have caused my focus to shift and I want more than anything to incorporate advocacy for infertility into what I do next. So for a long time, I contemplated how I could do that. I spoke with friends both in and out of the community, chewed my husbands ear off with pro/con lists, researched into all hours of the night, met with professionals working in career paths I might pursue and did a great deal of thoughtful lot of soul-searching. 

And I think I have found the path that will help me incorporate all of my passions into my future and hopefully educate others on the issues that matter to me. I recently enrolled in a course to obtain needed prerequisites for a graduate studies program in Sociology. Yes, I know this isn't a degree with a huge likelihood of high paying career, but luckily I am not in it for the money. I am hoping to focus my Master's of Sociology on women and gender studies so that I can teach these topics at the community college level. My dream is to be able to create a course that examines the role of motherhood in women's lives and what happens when women don't become mothers in the way society expects them to. I want to explore and analyze the effects of infertility and child loss on women's rights, on gender roles, on the family, on society. Even more, I want to educate future generations on these things that impact so many members of our society but are too seldom discussed outside of the people that are experiencing them. Most of all I want to try to give back to the community that has given so much to me. I know I can't be everything to everyone, but I hope that if I can follow my passion and be true to myself and my experiences, I can still be a voice and a supporter for those who need one.