Infertility at Christmas

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year”. It’s a catchy tune. And by the second line, you’re reminded of why it’s so wonderful, “With the kids jingle belling”. Because let’s face it, Christmas is all about kids. Santa, presents, the elf on a shelf…And sure, it is a wonderful time of year. Except if you’re struggling with infertility. 

One of my first posts when I started my Instagram page (@straight.up.infertility) was: ‘Infertility at Christmas is hard’. What I didn’t expect, was to receive thousands of likes and hundreds of comments. I only had a handful of followers at the time, so this was an enormous response. Wading through the endless comments, two themes emerged: Christmas is a time of year where you’re a reminded of the one thing you don’t have and would do anything to have. And, you have to attend those yearly extended family gatherings where you’re often asked: “Do you want kids?”, or “When are you going to have kids?” And it’s usually followed by unsolicited advice: “It will happen soon. You just need to relax”. Insert eye roll. 

Before our son was born, via gestational surrogacy, I always found Christmas tough. I wanted to hide under the covers and fast forward to the new year. But it was always impossible to do that so here’s how I navigated the holiday season:

Limit the Christmas celebrations. If you can, skip the work function or extended family gathering. These celebrations can be extremely difficult so it’s important to protect your mental health and limit how many you attend. 

Stay off social media. Santa photos, family photos, school concert videos…social media can be extremely triggering. It feels like a constant stream of reminders of what you want so desperately. While it can be hard, try to limit your social media consumption. 

Be prepared for unsolicited advice. Expect it will happen. There’s always one nosey aunt or one drunk work colleague who just can’t help themselves. So have a few responses ready. For example, you can point out the facts: Infertility is a reproductive disease, a medical condition that impacts millions worldwide. And if you’re feeling extra bold: “I’m not sure how relaxed women in war torn countries are. These women fall pregnant every day. Relaxing is not a medical cure.” You can also politely say that it’s none of their business and simply walk away. 

Self-care. Do some things just for you, things you love doing. If I ever I need a self-care kick, I go for a long walk, binge a reality TV show, or read a good book. And one Christmas, my husband and I took self-care to the next level, we spent Christmas in Vienna. It was just the two of us and we loved it. It was the perfect escape. I know that’s something that can be tricky to do at Christmas, but if you have a choice, I highly recommend it! 

Acknowledge your feelings. I think it’s imperative to acknowledge that infertility is incredibly painful. But especially at Christmas. You may feel so many emotions like anger, frustration, jealously, and sadness…and that’s ok. It’s human to feel this way.

I know infertility at Christmas is hard. For anyone who thought they would be pregnant, or have a baby, this holiday season, I see you. I know how painful it is. Be kind to yourself. 

You just need to relax

We’ve all heard it before: “You just need to relax”. From friends and family to acquaintances and work colleagues. Even sometimes from strangers. And it always hurts. A lot. It’s a punch in the guts. And if there’s one thing I’m certain of, being told to relax, makes you feel the opposite of relaxed. 

It still amazes me that so many people, with no medical expertise, provide unsolicited advice. During our infertility journey, I lost count of how many times people told me to, “Just relax”. I also heard: “You need a night out drinking”; “You need a holiday”; “You just need to adopt”; and “It will happen when you stop trying”. And everyone always seemed to know ‘someone’, who after years of IVF, stopped treatment and fell pregnant naturally. I’m yet to meet this unicorn but I’ve been assured, on several occasions, this person does exist.  

Infertility is a reproductive disease, a medical condition. Relaxing is not a medical cure. Millions worldwide have infertility, due to several medical reasons. And let’s not forget, forty per cent of infertility is due to male factor. Yet when a couple is struggling to fall pregnant, most people assume it’s the female. I often wonder how many men have been told to “just relax”. I suspect not many.  

Our son was born through gestational surrogacy because of my thin endometrium lining. The endometrium lining – the inner lining of the uterus – is crucial for falling pregnant and staying pregnant. After years of failed IVF transfers and pregnancy losses, our second IVF specialist hit us with the hard truth: Thin linings are rare, usually genetic, and often impossible to treat. And that our strongest chance of having a baby was through surrogacy. But not ready to close the door on being pregnant myself, I tried everything I could to fix my lining. Acupuncture, chinese medicine, special diets, medications, supplements…even a stem cell procedure. Nothing worked. And while our IVF specialist knew these methods wouldn’t work – except for maybe the stem cell procedure – he also knew I needed to find this out for myself. 

So what’s the problem with people offering unsolicited advice? In my experience, it always made me feel like s&*t. It made me feel like it was my fault. And irrational thoughts would creep in: We would probably be pregnant by now if I could just be Zen. Why can’t I drink some herbal tea, do some yoga, and just chill out?! I know now, as I knew then, that infertility is outside your control. It’s nothing you did or didn’t do. It’s a medical condition. But when you’re in the thick of it, it’s often hard to think rationally and it’s easy to blame yourself. 

Up until my infertility diagnosis, as a true October baby (Libra), people would often describe me as calm and balanced. In one workplace, in my farewell speech, my colleague asked: “Has anyone ever seen Kirst flustered at work? I haven’t. She is one of the most measured and patient people in our team, a reliable and steady pair of hands.” Measured, steady, patient…not usually the words used to describe someone who can’t relax. I’ve had a few friends struggle with infertility and they’ve been some of the most resilient, patient, and calm people I’ve known. I’ve also known people who have been anxious and highly strung who have fallen pregnant without trying. Why? Because the two are not related. In my book ‘This is Infertility’, Dr Russell Foulk (Utah Fertility Center) sums it up perfectly when he says: “People will say, ‘it was easy for me to get pregnant, just stop thinking about it, stop stressing about it’. Which is really difficult information to get. It’s like if you’re diagnosed with cancer to be told to stop thinking about it or to just get past the stress of it, you’ll get better, which is a ridiculous concept.” Spot on. 

My advice? I regret not doing it sooner but eventually I started to advocate for myself. Whenever someone would offer me ‘advice’ I would point out the facts: Infertility is a reproductive disease, a medical condition that impacts millions worldwide. And if I was feeling extra bold: “I’m not sure how relaxed women in war torn countries are. These women fall pregnant every day” or “Relaxing is not a medical cure. Imagine telling someone who has cancer to ‘just relax’ and they would be cured. That would be hurtful and insulting. Infertility should be no different.”

Like most medical conditions, infertility is indiscriminate and outside your control. It’s not your fault. And from what I’ve seen, the strength, resilience, and determination that people go through to become parents is astounding. But for anyone struggling with infertility, you are not alone. There’s many of us out there. Find those people. Talk to them. Lean on them. Surround yourself with love and support. Don’t suffer in silence.

Also featured in IVF Babble.

Infertility and your mental health

With World Mental Health Day this month, it’s a timely reminder of the importance of prioritising your mental health when you’re going through infertility. 

“I’m sorry, but the container of embryos you shipped over from Australia is empty.” Words that still haunt me today. We were in Canada for our first gestational surrogacy transfer when our fertility doctor broke the news. An hour earlier, we were full of hope. An hour later, we were living a nightmare. There are a handful of days in your life you wish had never happened. This was one of them. 

When we returned to Australia, my mental health suffered. I was depressed and unable to sleep. I had also convinced myself that what happened was the universe’s way of saying we weren’t meant to be parents. Because transporting embryos is standard practice. People transport embryos, eggs, sperm all the time, whether they’re changing clinics or doing surrogacy. What happened was extremely rare. And we had travelled to Canada after years of failed IVF transfers and pregnancy losses, due to my thin endometrium lining. So I was already running on empty. Returning home, I realised how crucial mental health is. I’m not sure we would have continued with our fertility journey if we hadn’t started to prioritise it. 

Infertility is incredibly painful. It’s all consuming. It takes a significant toll you on your mental health. And it often feels like a full-time job. It took us six years to have our son Spencer, born through gestational surrogacy in Utah, USA. But it was only after Canada that my emotional and mental health became a priority. Here’s what helped me during our journey:

• Say no. Baby showers, gender reveal parties, first birthdays…These events can be torture. For me, baby showers always meant one thing: being surrounded by excited squeals and endless reminders of the one thing I didn’t have and desperately wanted. The one thing I was fighting so hard for. With my very good friends, I often went. But outside of those close friends, I didn’t. If you are not close to the person, I doubt they will miss you. They’ll have plenty of other people there to celebrate with them. And if you are close to them, as a good friend, they should understand.

• Goodbye Facebook. After our second pregnancy loss, I deactivated my account. My Facebook news stream was dominated with pregnancy announcements and baby photos. I would spend too much time scrolling through social media, feeling awful. Limiting my social media was liberating. 

• Advocate for yourself.  We’ve all heard it before, “You just need to relax.” It still amazes me that so people, with no medical expertise, continue to offer unsolicited advice. Comments like these are ridiculous and hurtful. It took me a while at first, but whenever someone would offer me “advice” I would point out the facts: Infertility is a reproductive disease, a medical condition that impacts millions worldwide. And if I was feeling extra bold: “I’m not sure how relaxed women in war torn countries are. These women fall pregnant every day” or “Relaxing is not a medical cure. Imagine telling someone who has cancer to ‘just relax’ and they would be cured. That would be hurtful and insulting. Infertility should be no different.”

• Therapy. I found therapy extremely helpful. My therapist used a mix of Cognitive Behaviour Therapy and hypnosis. Given the impact infertility can have on relationships, I also know of many people who have found couple’s therapy a lifesaver. 

• Self-care. Do some things just for you, things you love doing. If I ever I need a self-care kick, I go for a long walk, binge a reality TV show, read a good book or have a massage. 

And finally, it’s OK to not be OK. I think it’s imperative to acknowledge that infertility is incredibly painful. You will feel so many emotions like anger, frustration, jealously, sadness, and guilt…and that’s ok. It’s human to feel this way. Be kind to yourself. 

Also featured in IVF Babble.