Infertility

     Greetings, fellow human beings (or the odd spambot that has acquired sentience after poring through kiloquads of data). My name is Renea, which means a lot of things to me but nothing to you. I teach piano lessons, have pet ducks and dogs, and have a very loving and kind partner. I love board games, books, baking bread, pyrography, and Star Trek: The Next Generation. And I also struggle with infertility.

     I have not always been sure that I wanted children, but I have been worried about infertility since I was eight years old. I read a book about a woman who experienced early menopause. The author, whom I have long since forgotten, very successfully described the pain of wanting something so badly and being thwarted by one's own body.

     I did not trust my body very much, even back then. It was an awkward thing, always bumping into people and desks and falling down flights of stairs. I've always had a strange affinity for Krang from the Ninja Turtles. I think I related to the concept that I was a mind being lugged around by this detached, indifferent body.

Krang, a common role model for children.

    Anyway, I was worried for years that if/when the time came, I couldn't have children. As it turns out, I probably can - but likely not without IVF. I have polycystic ovarian syndrome, casually slung about in conversation as "PCOS". After three years of exams, blood drawings, ultrasounds, diets, medications, and a particularly unpleasant test that involves injecting dye into one's uterus, it appears that IVF is the best route forward.

    A route, mind you, that happens to not be covered by most health insurance companies and costs $20,000 or more throughout the United States. 

     It must be a fascinating algorithm that dictates what should and should not be covered by "health" insurance. It seems that vision care, dental care, and nearly anything to do with the female body somehow is considered elective.

A relatable meme to detract from the palpable tension

     Well, IVF is not a viable option for me at the present moment. We have decided to proceed with pursuing adoption first. We had planned on adopting at some point regardless of my infertility, so I am very hopeful that we can have a family soon. Even so, infertility has been a painful, soul-wrenching journey, and that is even with the innumerable privileges that I have in American society (being a cis white woman pursuing reproductive options with a cis white male). 

     It's hard for me to understand why extraordinary amounts of wealth are necessary to get treatment for infertility, and even harder to understand the additional societal barriers for many Americans. It seems like something that should be more about the love a home can give, but hey, what do I know?

     If you're on this journey, too, then I hope you know you're not alone. There are lots of us, and in some small ways we know one another's pain. Sending out good vibes to all of you.

    PS - If you know someone who is suffering from infertility, please do NOT approach them with unsolicited advice about "curing" it. I know you probably mean well, but it can feel like you're implying that they are not "trying hard enough" to resolve the issue. The reality is that not all bodies are the same or react in the same way. Something that worked for your sister's neighbor is not guaranteed to work for me. That being said, if someone asks you for advice - go nuts. Tell them all about the Jello foot soak or standing on your head before intercourse. 

   - Renea