We’re starting a new semi-regular (read: whenever I get around to it or get inspired) feature over here at Creating a Family. I’m calling it EGAD “about” Infertility Day, which stand for Educate Great Aunt Debbie (as well as the rest of the world) about Infertility Day. It’s pronounced Eee Gad, as in the expression of horror or consternation that might be used when your expressions of horror or consternation must be G rated. Somehow, an expletive seemed appropriate for discussing infertility, and the G rating seemed appropriate for Great Aunt Debbie (as well as the rest of the world). If we can have National Quilting Day and Clean Off Your Desk Day, then surely there’s room on the calendar for EGAD Infertility Day.
EGAD Infertility Day was inspired by the comments I’ve read recently that were posted in online papers and magazines in response to articles about infertility. Many of these comment reflected such an unimaginable depth of misunderstanding about this disease–stop whining, get over it, just relax, just adopt, worse things could happen, ad nauseam –that something had to be done, and that something is EGAD Infertility Day.
EGAD Infertility Day offers such potential for greeting card companies that it’s bound to become a big hit. I can just see the cards now featuring a woman with her feet in the stirrups spouting off some witty comment about infertility, or perhaps it should be the doctor that is doing the spouting and the comments should be educational rather than witty. Well, I’ll leave the details to Hallmark, but when you’re ready to finally drop the “I” Bomb in answering the question from Great Aunt Debbie about when you are ever going to have kids, these cards will be just the thing.
For our inaugural EGAD Infertility Day, I’m sharing a short poem I wrote title Infertility Is…. Feel free to print and give freely to the Great Aunt Debbie’s of the world when trying to explain what you are going through. Also, please please please leave your comments about what Infertility Is to you. As Mel over at Stirrup Queen says, it’s time to de-lurk.
Infertility is a disease affecting the present and the future. Unless you’ve experienced it, it’s hard to understand:
The pain – a deep, scarring, searing pain –
at seeing the pink smear on the toilet paper each month;
at sharing your intimacy with doctors and nurses;
at receiving another pastel envelope inviting you to yet another baby shower that isn’t yours.
The anger – an enveloping, controlling, frightening anger –
at people who say “just relax” or “just not meant to be” when they don’t have a f___ing clue;
at God or karma or the universe or whatever the hell you call the force that is to blame;
at your partner.
The shame – a hidden, gnawing, ego-destroying shame –
at your jealousy of other’s easy conceptions;
at cutting people with children out of your life;
at your body’s failure.
The fear that this pain, anger, and shame will never end.
Image credit: Ed End
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