I think we all go through a phase when we don't want to discuss our baby-making issues with anyone. And sometimes we don't even know whether it's because we're too emotional or just too pissed. We teeter on the fence between: "This is so personal and painful I don't want to talk about it." and
"Screw you. This is none of your business!"
Maybe we think if we tell people we can't get pregnant they're going to think:
"They're probably just not doing it right. I don't know about him, but I know in high school SHE wasn't too swift."
Or maybe we're protecting our loved one.
"I don't want to tell them I can't get pregnant. They already think my husband's gay."
And what does "gay" have to do with being fertile? Nothing to the smart people in our lives, everything to the imbeciles.
I think if it weren't for the intimate nature of what it entails to get pregnant one way or another, we would talk about it more openly. But bad enough we start mentioning our endometriosis, and motility issues, and irregular period issues, and ovaries that don't work...then we REALLY tell them what's going on: You bring up the whole sperm donor or egg donor or surrogacy issue. Oh my gosh! Are you kidding me?
Bad enough we're talking about our delicate body parts- now you're going to bring a stranger's unmentionables into the conversation too? Some other woman's eggs?
"Do you know for a fact where this woman's ovaries have been?"
And a sperm donor?
"What exactly does a man have to do to be a sperm donor? Nevermind! I don't want to know!"
And a surrogate? "Are you kidding me? You're going to let your baby come through somebody else's 'you-know-what'?"
If it weren't for all of these "dirty little infertility secrets" that most of us have had to deal with, like I said, we could talk openly about infertility...just like any of the disgusting and often idiotic afflictions those close to us make us listen to:
"I've had this wart on my toe for like a month. Can you see it? It's not really on my toe. It's between the third and the fourth--the middle and the ring toe or whatever it's called."
How dumb would it be keeping every ailment and injury from everybody like we do with infertility?
"I have a broken leg."
"Oh my gosh, Danielle! I can't believe you're telling total strangers! You're embarrassing me. Just suck it up and drag it along!"
The problem with infertility: It's too easy to keep it a secret. You have the choice to keep it to yourself. If you don't tell anyone, nobody will ever know. They may hint, cajole, and annoy, but the ultimate decision to tell or not to tell is yours.
I mean, infertility is something you can physically hide. You look okay. Nothing's gangrene. Nothing's falling off. Your skin's not a funny color. Maybe you don't want to flaunt being short or obese. But if you ever thought of keeping either a secret... Let's face it: If your profile on Match.com says you're 5'11, 130 lbs and you show up looking 5'2" 320, the jig is up. For better or worse, infertility gives you the option of being a big fat liar.
I mean your fallopian tubes look fine from where I'm standing. You know, when they closed shut, nobody heard a door slam like when one of your friends signs off of AOL. It's almost a test of sorts. You can pass yourself off as a fertile person if you want. Be my guest. I promise, I won't be the one to "out" you.
(If you like to laugh about infertility, feel free to do so at my expense. My ebook: Laughing IS Conceivable: One Woman's Extremely Funny Peek into the Extremely Unfunny World of Infertility is $3.99 on Amazon /Free at the Kindle Library. See reviews @http://licthebook.com /More reviews & previews of each chapter) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007G9X19A Click on book cover)