Advertisement - Click to support our sponsors.
The Goddess Speaks
I am infertile. There, I've said it. Has the ground opened up to swallow me whole? Has a big red letter "I" appeared on my chest, branding me as infertile to the world? Acceptance
a tough part
of infertilityNo, I'm still the same person I was before I wrote that first sentence. But I have found that it is very liberating, and in a strange way, empowering, to be able to utter those words.
My husband and I married in 1987 when I was 27 years old. One year later, we discovered "we" were infertile. I say "we" euphemistically because it helps to soften the blow: the infertility in our case is caused by me.
While it may be assumed that infertility is the woman's problem, that is not true. In 40 percent of cases, it is a male dilemma. In another 40 percent, it is a female problem, and in the remaining cases, it's a combination of the two or unexplained.
In 1988, we discovered my fallopian tubes were damaged. I had major surgery that year to open up the tubes, and thus began our decade-plus battle with infertility.
When I discovered my infertility, I was just beginning my career and was on a promising career path. With the "glass ceiling" in mind, I decided not to share my condition with my then-employers; children were just not part of their corporate culture. Being secretive about my surgery and my hopes for a child just added to my stress.
In 1990, when I took a job with another company, I swore I would never again cause myself that unneeded stress. It was incredibly liberating to be open with my new employer. I was beginning to recognize that I was who I was, infertility and all, and future employers would have to accept me completely or not at all.
To my surprise, they not only understood, they fully supported what I was doing.
Bolstered, I began talking openly about my infertility with anyone who asked when we were going to have children (the inevitable question even a year into a marriage). I wasn't angry about it, I wasn't fanatical. I would just say quietly that we were struggling with infertility and hoped that one day we would have a child.
The response amazed me. Invariably, the person would respond with one of two comments: "Oh, I know so and so who's going through that!" or "We're struggling too."
BY saying "I am infertile," I found many people with whom I could commiserate, and they with me. The lasting friendships that have come through this are innumerable, and I am amazed at how closely my work, life, church, friend and family circles overlap due to an infertility connection.
I could also let go of the self-deceit I was practicing ("I'm not infertile -- it was just too much stress this month -- next month will be The Month!") By admitting to the infertility, I was able to begin directed focus on my treatments. I became a fertility expert, and I became a key member of the medical team helping me to achieve parenthood. Very empowering!
Our infertility story has a happy ending, two of them, in fact. We lost pregnancies in five different years in the 1990s. We failed at the in vitro fertilization treatment eight times in the 1990s. Yet, we succeeded in conceiving a child on our own in 1993, and we finally succeeded at the in vitro fertilization treatment this year, with the recent birth of our second son.
Infertility is a part of who I am. It will be that way forever, even after having attained parenthood. Opening up that part of me, to myself, to my friends, my family and my colleagues, only strengthens who I am.
Dot Shigemura is the co-founder of .
RESOLVE of Hawaii, an infertility support
group that provides information, support
and advocacy to couples
The Goddess Speaks runs every Tuesday
and is a column by and about women, our strengths, weaknesses,
quirks and quandaries. If you have something to say, write it and
send it to: The Goddess Speaks, the Honolulu Star-Bulletin, P.O.
Box 3080, Honolulu, 96802, or send e-mail
to features@starbulletin.com.