“I’ve always been someone who shied away from something that I thought I would fail at because I didn’t want the humiliation of failing at something I tried at so I think that’s what this is and omg I’m just now realizing that.”
The above comes from a text conversation that I had with one of my very closest & dearest friends. (As a side note on this lovely human: there has never been one thing that I have shared with or divulged to her that has been met with anything but kindness, love, & a genuine, all-encompassing fountain of support. Fullstop. I’m obsessed with her. We all need someone like her in our lives. If you don’t have a friend like this, go find them.)
Anyway, when our conversation started, it had absolutely nothing to do with infertility or our journey to parenthood; but that is what it ended up morphing into. We had this conversation on 2/26 & I have typed out my very scattered thoughts in the notes app on my phone, jotted down ideas in my journal last Friday, & thought long & hard (twss) about this topic. For weeks. Almost a month. I haven’t been able to organize those same, scattered thoughts into a post for that long. It’s a difficult task to tackle. The idea of not being able to do “the one thing” our bodies (as women) “are supposed to do” is directly linked to failure. And that, in turn, is internalized. Therefore we as women are the sole failures in the equation. Not anyone else. Not even our partners (even though in roughly half of couples who struggle to conceive, the male can be a significant contributing factor).
So, where did that come from? This internalized, intrinsic, inherent desire to point the finger directly back towards us? Did we, as women, do that to ourselves? Or is this yet another thing we can attribute to society totally effing up for us, & effing us up? You know, like pitting women against each other in order to tear each other down so we’re not as…what’s the word? Oh, that’s right: THREATENING to the wee menfolk. Stop that. Like, seriously. Straighten each other’s crowns, capes, etc. & cheer them the heck on.
But, I digress…
…or, do I?
Is this all not a part of a larger ideal that everything, literally everything, in life tends to rest upon the woman’s shoulders? It’s freaking exhausting, & I’m over it. I hate to say it like this, but yeah. I AM very lucky to be married to someone who gets it & shoulders it all, & takes responsibility right alongside me.
Actually, you know what? No. I’m not lucky. My husband is an amazing human. We met, fell in love, & then we both mutually decided to stick around & eventually build a life together based on each other’s personalities & values. I don’t shoulder all the burden or responsibility of life all of the time, & neither does he. As I think is important in any partnership, romantic or otherwise, there absolutely has always been a constant give & take. Has it always been 50/50? Of course not. Will it always be 50/50? OF. COURSE. NOT. It ebbs & flows with whatever’s going on in our lives. Whether that’s personally, in our marriage, professionally, etc. And it will continue to be that way for the rest of our lives. I know this. He knows this. We’re content. Nay: we’re happy.
So, why has it been so hard for me to look at this (infertility & our difficulty in creating the family that we so desperately desire) as a two-person ordeal? Everything else in our lives & relationship rests upon both of our shoulders. Why, then, doesn’t this? Automatically? I’ve done a lot of work (personally & in therapy) to unpack this issue. It’s basically a (forced) daily reminder, both internally & from my husband, that it’s not all me. It’s not all on me. I’m not alone. And, more freakin’ importantly,:
I
AM
NOT
A
FAILURE.
And neither, my dear badass infertiles/infertility warriors, are you.
I love you. I’m here for you. Forever.
~ As always, thanks so much for reading. Much love, & hope for a return of the light.
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift
Yourself up off the floor.
Switchfoot “Dare You to Move.”
Soulstice: Return of the Light 