When fertility is gone: frozen at 19

On a cold January day in 2016, my whole world changed in the blink of an eye or, rather, in the breath it took the doctor to say, “You have a blighted ovum”. I was 19, and everything I knew seemed to be crashing around me. The doctor knew the weight of her words, and there was nothing but the gentlest concern in her eyes. Forcing myself to ignore the loud ringing in my ears to focus during the rest of the appointment, I listened to the rest of what I needed to do for hormone health to keep my broken body in as best condition as I could. While I knew this was a likely scenario based on my chromosomal condition, the cold, definitive answer had me walking out of that appointment a different woman than the 19 year-old who went into the exam room.

Nearly 10 years later, I still think about that version of myself that had to sit there and begin to process the reality of my complete infertility. There is still a part of me that has been frozen, stuck in that doctor’s office. And I avoided that 19 year-old as much as I could over the near decade. My fertility was gone and, with it, my worth. Or, at least that’s the lie I told myself. And it’s a lie I think we have all told ourselves time after time, sisters. But it is an absolute lie coming from the Evil One. Not from the God of Love or anyone here on earth who truly loves you. A Father who knows you, who sees you and your worth better than you do.

That doesn’t mean the lie is easy to ignore. When you tell yourself there is only one way to be fruitful, that fertility is the only worth you have in a marriage, year after year, having to reshape that narrative when your biological fertility no longer exists is exhausting to say the least. But that is where you have prayer, therapy, a spouse/significant other, family and friends who love you, and your faith in Love’s plan for you to ground you in the truth. And you can find those small truths in your life as well. For me, it’s the way my students bring me tea because they know I love it. Or the most wonderful man in the world being there with ice cream to celebrate my highest highs or help get me through those lowest of lows.

Fruitfulness doesn’t start or end with your biology. Maybe you’re a great artist, gardener, or listener. Whatever the case may be, you have those proofs of your unique, unrepeatable value in the world. And you always have leaders in the faith too. Never forget you are accompanied by not only God and the Blessed Mother, but all the holy men and women who have gone through similar griefs and struggles that seemed just as insurmountable to them as they do to you now. Lean on them.

I will end with this small story. A former coworker and I were talking, and she brought up that she was doing chromosomal testing for her 4 year-old. When I asked what made her doctor suggest the genetic testing, she listed some similar attributes that I had as well. I hate having a genetic disorder, but being able to talk with her, and see the relief on her face as she realized her son could go through the same things I did and come out stronger and healthier made me feel that perhaps some good fruit could come from my painful infertility journey. For once, my experience that I tried to hide, that I felt ashamed of, was a source of comfort to this woman. After we hugged and the conversation ended, it felt like there was another person there with us. And there was: in my mind’s eye, there was that 19 year-old. But instead of sitting there mute, unwelcomed, she was standing and walking to me, tears in her eyes. For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to embrace that part of myself that just wanted to be acknowledged. And I vowed to not let that 19 year-old ever feel abandoned and worthless again.

May you never feel worthless. May you never feel abandoned. May you only feel Love’s embrace even during the worst moments. We are praying for you always.