Pictures

I’m a big picture taker- I feel like if I don’t take a picture, I don’t remember the experience.

Maybe that’s why I don’t have any pictures that really depict our infertility. Because sometimes I don’t want to remember.

I don’t have any pictures of my reaction to being told I had PCOS. (Which was the reason behind our infertility)

I don’t have any pictures of our fertility clinics.

I don’t have any pictures of the shots I had to get. (I didn’t do IVF, but I had to do “trigger shots” to ensure that I was ovulating.)

I don’t have any pictures of all the different types and combinations of medications I tried.

I don’t have pictures of any of our negative pregnancy tests. Or any of the negative ovulation tests.

I don’t have any pictures of me sitting anxiously in my appointments.

I don’t have any pictures of Wanda.

I don’t have any pictures of our medical bills.

I don't have any pictures of the diet changes I made that were suggested by my doctor. (Eating whole grains & lots of veggies plus limiting dairy & gluten & sugar is beneficial for people with PCOS)

I don't have any pictures of the impact our infertility had on my mental health.

I don't have of pictures me leaving my full time position that I absolutely loved because of the toll infertility had taken on my ability to do my job.

I don't have any pictures of the times I cried over my body's inability to do what I had always been taught it "should" do.

I don’t have any pictures of the hurt I tried to hide when people would make invalidating comments like “Just relax” or “It’ll happen, just have faith in God’s plan for you!”

I don't have any pictures of us waiting by the phone to hear the results of my blood tests (I'd get my blood drawn at the clinic a few days after I had a procedure, which would then tell us if I was pregnant or not.)

I don’t have any pictures of me doubled over & sobbing after the fertility clinic called me & told me our IUI didn’t work.

I don’t have any pictures of our confusion after the fertility clinic called to tell us our IVF study was getting pushed back... again.

I don’t have any pictures of Christopher & I holding each other in our heartbreak.

I also don’t have any pictures of the hundreds of prayers that were said on our behalf. Picturing my nieces & nephews praying for us will always be so tender!️

I don’t have pictures of my conversations with friends and family that were genuinely empathetic.

I don’t have any pictures of the supportive, uplifting messages I got from people after I shared a blog post.

I don’t have any pictures of the sweet, unexpected packages that my angel friend in GA would send me.

I don't have any pictures of the progress I made when I shared my experiences in therapy.

I don’t have any pictures of the conversations I had with my amazing neighbors and friends in Orem who shared their experiences with me. (If any of you ladies are reading this- I freaking love you & am forever grateful for your strength & support & listening ears️)

I don’t have any pictures of the people in St. George who rallied around us after I shared our experience with infertility when we moved in. Some of them also had infertility and some were just kind people who wanted us to know we weren't alone. There are good people everywhere!

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Maybe I don’t have pictures of any of these things, but the memories of those experiences and emotions will always be etched on my heart. (Unfortunately and fortunately, I guess.) Since it's National Infertility Awareness Week, those thoughts, emotions and experiences have been especially prevalent in my mind.

Just because I was able to get pregnant doesn’t mean my infertility is “over” or that I’m not still impacted by my infertility. Each infertility story is different and comparing infertility stories is demeaning and pointless.
Support and validation means everything to someone experiencing infertility. It’s a traumatic experience. I’ve never felt more alone than when I was going through infertility.

After I wrote my initial blogpost explaining our infertility, I was generally pretty open about my experiences. But not everyone is. Whether you’re aware of it or not, there’s a good chance someone you know is impacted by infertility. Maybe they don’t want to talk about it- respect their choices.

If they’re open to talking, ask them what they need or what kind of comments are helpful for them.
Even if you feel like you know what kind of comments you should or shouldn’t make to someone with infertility, I’d encourage you to think about whether or not the "advice" you want to give is warranted or validating.

The one that was always the most frustrating to me was people saying “oh my nephew’s brother couldn’t get pregnant but then they did XYZ and boom! They got pregnant!” Those comments always made me feel like the person didn’t actually care about MY experience because they couldn’t think of anything to say besides bringing up someone else’s experience (And it was usually someone they didn’t really even know. It was different when someone shared their own experience with infertility.) And again, it’s pointless to compare infertility stories! Don’t do it! Having good intentions behind comments like that doesn’t take away the hurt. I still love you if you ever said anything like that to me though. But now you know better for the next person.

If you’re a fellow “1 in 8”, I’m always here if you need to vent. You don’t need to share your experiences in the same way as anyone else, but I hope that you have at least one other person you can turn to. You are not alone in this. (Also.... whether or not infertility is the struggle you're facing- take pictures! Find a way to capture the hard parts of your life, because they aren't any less real or important than the "good" parts!)