Damn those OPKs

Have you ever noticed all the vocabulary we infertiles build? I was trying to explain where we are in our attempts to ttc #2 via email to a very fertile friend who has never had to think about getting pregnant. (She is so fertile she once got pregnant on the pill AND then got pregnant while nursing. What a show off.) The original email went something like this:

"We had a BFN last cycle. TTC is depressing, and I'm not pleased with my RE. He thinks my FSH is too high and my DOR makes me a bad candidate for everything except DE. He is willing to try a round of Follistim and IUI, but is not optimistic and will not try IVF. I'm hoping to become a SIRM patient because the A/ACP IVF protocol sounds promising. We are trying on our own this cycle, but it is already cd 20 and I don't think I have O'd based on my bbts. My OPK results have been confusing. A week ago, it appeared that I surged based on the FR and Target brand OPKs. However, I did not get this result with CBE. In fact it was very -. Because my temps did not jump, I bought two more packs of OPKs, CBE and Target. Today the CBE showed a surge and the test line was darker than the control line. However, the Target OPK was -. So we dtd again in case I am really going to O this time. I am praying for a BFP in the near future. In the meantime, damn those OPKs."

Now my sisters in infertility probably would probably understand most of that, but I realized before hitting send that my fertile myrtle friend would not understand a bit of it.

Have you noticed how infertility creates a wall of sorts between the fertiles and infertiles? The lingo is just the start of it. What strikes me is that the infertility subculture, while thriving, is largely hidden. Yeah yeah, I know there is some new dumb-ass television program about an infertility clinic, but I refuse to watch because I already know they probably make the REs seem god-like, the patients seem needy and desperate (OK-maybe they are getting that right) and the nurses seem like saints (and if you have read my previous post, you know how I feel about nurses right now.) And sure, we know Brooke Shields and Julia Roberts both conceived via IVF, but we know more about Brooke's PPD than we know about her infertility journey.

Why are we hidden?

Shame? I publish under a pseudonym for fear of colleagues or students stumbling across my posts and knowing way too much. Not that we should be wearing tee-shirts proclaiming "Natural Cycle- We DTD today!" but what is wrong with sneaking in an "as an infertility patient" into conversation once in a while?

Stigma? Perhaps being infertile calls into question a woman's raison d'etre. We can be very accomplished--a lawyer, a doctor, or a professor--but this still calls into question our self-worth. I grew up next to an older couple who had no children. They were like our surrogate grandparents, but I pitied them for not having children or grandchildren. My mother once told me, "Mrs. S couldn't have babies ." I have felt sorry for Mrs. S ever since. She is 90 and I still feel sorry for her. I have a child so I doubt eight -year-old neighbors will feel sorry for me when I am old, but I do get the feeling my friends look at me and feel pity when fill them in. I don't want pity. I want empathy.

Fear? Discomfort? One of my friends recently told me that I am probably better off with one child because it is easier. She ended that dialogue rather abruptly and we moved on to discuss something inane, but safe, like shoes. Or was it TV? This is one of my most loyal friends, but she is not an infertile and seems uncomfortable talking about what we have been through. Other friends behave the same way. Silent.

I revised my email message: "Things are not going well naturally, but we will start fertility treatment soon with hopes of making E a big sister. How are the kids? Bought any new shoes lately?"