10 Things I’m Learning From Infertility

In 2019, when I stopped taking birth control pills, I wouldn’t have imagined we would be still trying 3 years later. As I am approaching 32, I am coming to the realization that I will also be starting fertility treatments. Over these 3 years, I’ve celebrated friends, co-workers, family members, and strangers online bringing in their bundle of joys. I’ve also mourned with them when they experienced infertility and miscarriages.

We are 1:8.

This means that 1 in 8 couples have trouble getting pregnant or sustaining a pregnancy. If you are 1 in 8, I want you to know that you are not alone! Here are some unexpected things I’ve learned so far.

1. I’m not alone

Once I started talking about my infertility with friends and family, I found they were also struggling with growing their families. I decided to share on my Instagram and TikTok and was flooded with DMs and comments of people experiencing the same feelings and sharing what they were doing. When we are younger, we are told not to have sex because we will get pregnant. As you get older you realize, that you have 24-36 hours for your egg to fertilize.

2. I learned to be my own advocate

The nurse part of me cringes because this may be misinterpreted, but you have to do your own research. Some doctors and the majority of fertility apps base cycles off of 28-30 days. As I am navigating this journey abroad in Germany, I’ve been making to research and collaborate with my doctors. If you are someone who does not have a “regular” cycle, your apps may be telling you you are ovulating when in you’re not. Make sure you are doing your own research and advocating for yourself when you go to the doctor.

My IVF favorites

3. No one will have the right words to say, and that’s okay

During the first year and half of trying, I would literally lie to people about whether or not I was trying. I know it sounds terrible, but I didn’t want to have awkward conversations or maybe I didn’t want our infertility to be a reality. I’ve had a year and a half of interesting conversations where people tell me I should consider other options or someone wants me to walk them through every single thing I’ve tried, so they can tell me what I can do better. I just want to scream “I’m trying,” but I know they are too.

4. It stings a little when people ask if we want children

All I have to say about this one is, just don’t ask.

5. I’m officially fluent in the fertility language

The first time I entered the chat room on my fertility app, I didn’t understand common sentences in the group. “I BD on CD30 when my LH peaked. I’m 14DPO and I got a BFN today, but no AF.” Excuse me what? It’s like a whole new language. Let me decode the message:

• BD: Baby dance, which is sex. I feel like if we’ve gotten to the point we are talking to strangers online about our struggles, when we are ovulating or even some people share pictures… then we could just say sex.
• CD: This is cycle day. I think this acronym is convenient.
• LH: Luteinizing hormone is the hormone released just before your Ovulation.
• DPO: Days past ovulation. This acronym usually means you are in your two-week wait or TWW
• BFN: Big Fat Negative…. hmm when I first started this journey I thought oh wow so negative, but when you’ve seen dozens of BFN you get it!
• AF: Aunt flow is pretty universal I believe, but I’ve never found myself saying aunt flow instead of the period because we aren’t relatives or even friends at this point. ahah

6. My priorities are changed

Since I could remember, I’ve always been a person who puts other people’s needs above mine. I love to give gifts rather than receive and I am the first in line to celebrate a friend or family member’s success. These last couple of months, I’ve been truly evaluating all areas of my life and seeing if they serve me. Super weird that it took infertility to put myself first, but here we are.

7. Denial is surreal

Most doctors, depending on your age, will tell you to wait 1 year of consistently trying to seek help. In 2021, I went to the doctor here in Germany after two years, and she told me “there’s a problem.” I was not worried about not ever getting pregnant, but just waiting for the “right” time for us. Don’t get me wrong, I had gotten labs prior and was told everything was good. After that appointment, there were a lot of awkward medical things, but I decided it was time to seek a fertility center rather than an ob-gyn.

8. It’s okay to not be okay

I’m “the strong” friend, so naturally, I don’t like to cry. Especially in public. I don’t think there is someone who does, but crying in front of people makes me feel so ehh. Even as I’m reflecting on my journey and shedding some tears, I get this pit in my stomach. I’ve learned to tell people I’m struggling along with telling people my boundaries. Sharing that I am struggling with infertility doesn’t mean that I need to share every single detail of my journey. That goes for anyone going through anything. You can tell or not tell as much as you want of YOUR story because it’s yours to tell.

9. Google is my frenemy

Honestly, I cannot even begin to explain the number of basic things that I have googled. I won’t even embarrass myself, but I will say that no matter how many times someone tells me “they know a friend who…” I IMMEDIATELY think of Alex in He’s Just Not That Into You saying “you are the rule and not the exception.” I’ve believed I’m the exception for 36 months and it’s time to be the rule.

10. I miss the Attaliah before infertility

I think I fought for so long to remain the same, but the truth is every life circumstance changes you even if you don’t want to. I miss the Attaliah I was before infertility. The Attaliah who didn’t care what people thought. The one who was so adventurous and didn’t have to schedule trips around doctor’s appointments and ovulation calendars. The one who didn’t feel like a failure every single freaking month. Last, but not least, the one that didn’t care if and when she had a period.

There are so many lessons to learn as Robin and I step into fertility treatments and I’ve got my seatbelt on for the journey. If you’re reading this and experiencing infertility, I want you to know you are NOT alone. If you are a loved one of someone experiencing infertility, keep trying to support them the best you can.