Fear and Infertility
What’s your greatest fear in life? This question popped into my head the other day. Maybe it’s because the 11 year old I had been watching a few days before wanted to watch a horror movie and was mortified that I was too scared to watch it with him. Maybe it popped into my head because deep down I’m always wondering what I’m afraid of and why. Either way, I don’t feel like I’ve ever had a good response to the question ‘what’s your greatest fear in life’, until today. The answer floated into my mind without any influence from me.
“I’m afraid of my mom dying and her not meeting my children”.
That’s it in a nutshell. I’m afraid that my parents will pass before they get to meet my children.
I was peacefully sitting at my breakfast counter eating some cereal when I burst into tears about that possibility. Those who have dealt with infertility should be familiar with random triggers causing you to burst into tears for what, to the outsider, seems no reason. It’s not even the first time I’ve had that thought. I guess it’s just the first time I’ve allowed myself to feel what that would be like. Is it good to let myself feel those things? I don’t know. It feels like a breakthrough to realize that’s a fear. Once it’s acknowledged it can be handled better right? Again, I don’t know. Life is full of unanswered questions right now.
The more I wrestle with infertility, the more I feel like the 3 year old having a temper tantrum about life not being fair. It’s not fair that dogs don’t live as long as humans. Its not fair that people get cancer. It’s not fair that people’s houses burn down. It’s not fair that people lose their loved ones. It’s not fair that divorce rips families apart. It’s not fair that custody battles happen. It’s not fair that good people get hurt. It’s not fair that adoption is so expensive. It’s not fair that infertility even exists. It’s not fair that miscarriages affect nearly 100% of the population (we all know someone whose been hurt) It’s not fair. It’s just not.
I hate being the person that has a lesson to learn from every experience. But I really have learned through infertility that grief is universal. Whether it’s the grief of losing a loved one, losing a dream job, divorce, loss of a parent or a pet. The experience of grief is a uniting force. If we can allow ourselves to join together and share our grief we start to see that your pain feels to you the way that my pain feels to me. We both hurt. Maybe, if we can all open up we could really change the world. We could stop seeing other people as the ‘other’ group whether it’s due to race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, political party or ethnicity. We can just see each other as another grieving soul. Someone who has been through pain, has fears and wants to find how to be happy despite those things.
