By Lisa Manterfield
I’m going to say this up front so I can get it out of the way: I really didn’t want to read any more books about infertility.
Like all of us here, I’ve worked hard to heal the wounds of my own infertility so that I can step out into a world full of mothers and children and not feel as if I’m about to suffocate. Reading other people’s stories played a big part in my recovery. I’ve done the work and the result it that life is pretty good these days, even without children of my own.
I am also aware that the hurt has not really gone away. It lurks under the surface, moving deeper year-by-year, granted, but always there. I’ve avoided reading more infertility stories because I don’t want to go back to those treatment rooms, those times of frustration, and that deep, dark sadness of being unable to create life. Even writing this last sentence reminds me of where I once was. So you see where my reluctance comes from.
But recently, Pamela at Silent Sorority asked me to participate in a blog tour for Julia Leigh’s memoir, Avalanche, A Love Story. Of course, I agreed. While our “sorority” may have been silent when Pamela wrote her book almost a decade ago, this is no longer the case. (You can see the growing list of bloggers who agreed to participate in this post.) We are vocal, we are sharing our stories, and we are supporting one another.
Despite our willingness to speak and write, there remains much ignorance and misunderstanding surrounding infertility. It’s what prompts pitying looks from people who ask if we have kids, and it prompts all the platitudes and hurtful comments we hear, falsely labeled as “helpful.” My personal favorites are “Just do IVF”, “Why didn’t you just adopt?”, and “You can’t have really wanted kids if you gave up so easily.”
Which is why we need to support authors like Leigh, who are willing to risk (and receive) judgement and pity because they crossed their own lines in the pursuit of motherhood. It’s important that women facing the possibility of fertility treatments find honest accounts of what it really entails (even if they choose to believe it will be different for them!) And it’s important that others who have no experience with infertility get to read a compelling story and perhaps gain insight, understand, and most of all, compassion. It’s why I sucked it up and bought and read Avalanche: A Love Story.
The book is short (I read it in two sittings) but powerful and beautifully written. It did indeed take me back to many of my own experiences, and at times I found myself wanting to yank her aside and impart my hard-earned wisdom on her. So many times I begged her not to make the choices she was about to make, but understanding how quickly logic and decision-making skills warp in the infertility world. By the end, I found myself connected to another infertility sister and understanding myself a little more.
I’ll be posting my full review on Amazon. If you decide to read the book, I encourage you to also leave a review. Word-of mouth is still the number one way most of us find books, and second only to buying books, reviews are the best way to support an author.
Pamela is hosting a blog tour for Julia’s book today. You’ll find a list of the participating bloggers here. I hope you’ll take a moment to visit some of them and perhaps find some new voices.
P.S. I know this post has replaced the usual Whiny Wednesday spot, but I think there’s enough in here to prompt a little outrage. Whiny Wednesday will be back next week.
Thank you so very much for participating, Lisa! We’ve discussed our reluctance around keeping this subject alive — and the trauma it can re-ignite. Going back there reopens wounds in our hearts and heads — yet the opportunity to reshape the cultural discussion and help the uninitiated understand what’s at stake moves us to dig deep. You are and have been a tremendous resource with your books and your community. I am proud to know you and call you a friend. xo
Dear Pamela,
All the wounds I picked at this week and it was this comment that made me tear up. Thank you. As hard as it was to revisit my experience, I feel buoyed this week by the incredible outpouring from our community. We have proven ourselves to be quite the sisterhood. -x-
Thanks for the book recommendation. The Church told me long ago that IVF is fraught with peril on many levels, so I obeyed without knowing what she talked about. I thought it was just more patriarchy nonsense. Now I know. I’m not judging because you should know by now how much I treasure our journey together and call it sacred. (See With Eyes of Faith guest blog)
OK. So like Lisa’s post today, my second comment is totally unrelated to Whiny Wednesday, because I must tell other members of our community how much I am enjoying the chapter-a-week of A Strange Companion. There is WAY more than a written story. There are videos, weekly emails from Lisa about the writing life and her hometown, etc. I am following the story on the Wattpad app because I can vote each week, but there are other ways to follow. I hope others check it out. Lisa is a wonderfully skilled writer!!
Dorothy,
Thank you so much for this! Yes, you and I have been traveling this post-infertility road together for a long time, so it’s been really fun to connect with you now in another area of my life. I’m really pleased you’re enjoying the serial novel. I’m really enjoying writing it. 🙂
~Lisa
Oh yes, I must remember to post a review on Amazon (having reviewed it on my blog already). Like you, I found it beautifully written, its restraint is what delivers some of the best lines.
I remember discussing my infertility with my sister (who has 4 children) she realized that we had male-factor infertility she says to me: “Oh, well at least then you know it’s not you.” I’m still trying to figure out how she thought that was helpful.
Yes people definitely suggest IVF as if it’s no big deal and guaranteed to work! I’m glad more books dealing with infertility have come out and hopefully one day soon people will be able to talk openly and share their stories without shame or judgement.
I agree, I got the I guess you didn’t really want kids then from my father! The man who complained months after his foot healed from a sprain and it still hurt; had the audacity to make IVF seem like nothing. It was not something I wanted to do,even before I done my research. I ended up doing it, so people won’t say I didn’t try. It didn’t work, and that’s it. I am not doing it again. And yes, I don’t want/need children that bad to put my mental, physical, emotional and financial health in danger by doing repeated IVFs and that doesn’t make me a bad person.
I know exactly what you mean about not necessarily wanting to be in the headspace required for reading another infertility book. I struggled with that too.
I remain grateful for women (like Julia, Pamela, you) who are willing to put themselves out there and publish books on an unpopular topic.
Love this! 🙂 Reading Julia’s book brought back some very vivid memories that I wasn’t entirely happy to revisit, so I understand your initial reluctance, Lisa. But the overall experience of reading her book — the wonderful prose, the “me too” moments of recognition — was a good one for me. I am proud to be part of a community of such amazing women who have taken some pretty hard knocks and not only survived but thrived.
I too understand the initial reluctance: I feel a bit that way myself, when I think of reading about the nitty-gritty of the IVF clinics (do I really want to revisit that?), and the psychological storm of being in the thick of infertility.
But I also have SO much admiration and respect for women and men like Leigh who risk opprobrium and harsh judgement – and there is so much of that out there, for IVF – to tell their stories, that I feel drawn to the author and want to support her. Courageous stuff. Our circumstances were different and I’ve talked about how I was more ambivalent than she was (I stopped IVF earlier on, and it was all less visceral for me), but who knows what I would have done if my relationship had broken up, if I had ended up on my own with spiraling fears of loneliness (always bubbling under the surface for me), yet still a patient at the clinics, tempted by nefarious offers from the doctors pushing donor egg at me? I may have gone down exactly the same road.
Leigh is a strong woman to brave the judgement: props to her.
With hurt and darkness being part of what propels us forward on this mission, it’s hard. It’s definitely hard to engage sometimes. Kudos to you Lisa and to all of us! I like to think we have the room inside to hold and nurture it all, from pain to sadness to contentment and whatever satisfaction we may find in life.
Love this line – “So many times I begged her not to make the choices she was about to make, but understanding how quickly logic and decision-making skills warp in the infertility world.” Oh, so true, so true.
PS – Thanks for the reminder to write a review on amazon.
Just do IVF. Ha. There is nothing “just” about it. Or adoption for that matter. I’ve gotten those statements a lot. People don’t understand how emotionally, physically and financially draining this process can be. And it’s an addiction too – like gambling – “Just one more time – I’ll hit the jackpot if we try just one more time”.
“Just” is a four letter word if I’ve ever heard one.
I was so affected by the infertility treatments I underwent that 3 years later, when I went to the OBGYN to check for ovarian polyps (I had gotten polyps in my uterus after the infertility treatments and I was told they may reoccur), the whole procedure left me crying for the rest of the day. It was like being back in the infertility nightmare again. I knew then with utter certainly that I will never take that road again.