Screeching Halt

If you're infertile, odds are you've experienced the proverbial screeching halt that happens in a conversation when you mention something about being infertile. 

It can come from somebody you consider your best friend, a family member or a perfect stranger.  And it can happen in any conversation, face to face or not.

The simple reality is people do not know how to react when infertility is brought up.

You have cancer, you say? 

We're soooo sorry to hear that.  We'll pray for you.  We'll bring you dinners when you need them.  We'll give you a hug.  We'll reassure you about doctors and statistics and someone we know who's beaten the odds, because odds are, we really do know someone who's been diagnosed with cancer.

Your animal/loved one passed away, you say?

We are sooooo sorry.  We just don't know what to say.  Words can't take your pain away, but time heals all wounds.  They're in a better place for sure.  Think of your happy memories of them.  They wouldn't want you to be sad. 

You lost your job, you say?

Well, I thought you hated that stupid boss of yours anyway.  Now you can pursue your dreams.  God's got a better plan for you. We're here to help if times get tough. 

You're infertile, you say? 

You're womb is barren, you say? 

Your husband's sperm won't ask for directions, you say? 

(Okay, maybe you didn't say that).

Crickets chirping.

Noone knows how to respond, although most of the aforementioned responses would be perfectly acceptable.

God must have a plan for us.  There must be some explanation to the unfairness of infertility.

Offering to help in our time of need would be nice.  (after treatments, when Aunt flow comes to visit or doesn't for that matter, etc.)

Saying a prayer for us would be nice.

Even a stupid story about your neighbor's best friend's sister who tried for years and got pregnant with a miracle baby after adopting would be better than....

SILENCE.

I just received a text message from a number I didn't have programmed in my phone.

It said,  "Do you have kids yet?"

So I asked who it was and realized it was an old male friend from HS.  Someone who was one of my closest friends and who I remain friends with on FB, although clearly, he's not a FB stalker.

He bought a house a few streets away from where my parents still live and innocently enough wanted to know who all the children at my parent's house were.

So, I explained that my mom and one of my sisters babysit little kids during the summer.

Then he said "Oh...he thought he missed something".

Reverting back to my naive thinking of how good of friends we were in high school and surely things don't change after almost 10 years  (HOLY CRAP, my 10 year high school reunion is next spring!)

I informed him that "We can't have kids".

Surely, he wouldn't know what to say or he would say something stupid.

I usually do this as a test.  It helps me mentally process who understands, who has the potential to understand, who cares, etc. 

But he surprised me with his response.

"Why is that, medical?"

OH MY GOSH. 

It was a smart, educated response.  Not a stupid, "you must not be doing it right" type of sarcastic answer.  But one that I thought surely showed he was interested in learning more about why this girl who so desperately wanted only to be a mother does not have children after almost 5 years of marriage.

So I answered honestly.  Told him we had been through a failed IVF and other treatments (tried not to get too technical) and no he didn't miss anything, there were no babies from me.

But then it happened.

The silence.

The lack of ANY response.

Considering his previous responses took about 5 seconds to come back and it's now been 25 minutes since I sent that last text, I think it's safe to say he chose the silent route.

I think silence is cowardly.  Everyone can think of something to say or somehow to respond in almost any situation, whether it's a smart response or a dumb one. 

Infertility should be no different.

I'm so sick of the stigma attached with infertility.

Like we should be ashamed or keep it hidden.

Something has got to change. 

So start speaking out.  Talk about it. Make it okay to have a conversation about this disease. 

It's not our fault, after all.