This Thing

Dancing with the Stars last night, ugh! The first ugh! because I cried three times. The second ugh! because of Nancy Kerrigan’s story. I don’t know if I can aptly unpack all that I was feeling during her most memorable year. Being an Olympic figure skater, one might imagine her most memorable year would be related to her sport, yet it was not. Instead of celebrating her professional success, she chose her most memorable year to be 1996, the birth of her oldest son. She explained that from a young age she had always known she wanted three children. She had no problem conceiving and birthing her first child, so she assumed the next two would follow suit just as easily. But, that is not what happened. Let me pause to interject this is a feeling so many suffering from infertility understand. I had a mental image in my mind of my family; a husband and the children we would raise. My reality does not fit that image and it never will. For me, letting go of what I wanted and embracing what I have, was such a struggle that at times it felt insurmountable. Nancy mentioned not being able to give up on her ideal of three kids. After her first child was born she suffered 6 miscarriages in 8 years. The pain of those losses were evident when she expressed she felt guilty and the Olympic medalist felt like a failure. Let that sink in a moment. What the world would see as a successful woman felt like a failure because of infertility. If that doesn’t express the pain of infertility, I don’t know what does. She also expressed feeling ashamed of having to seek medical help to conceive and carry her second son. It was unclear if IVF was used for her to conceive her daughter, that part was sort of skimmed over.

 

So, here’s the ugh! part of it all. I know it was brave for Nancy to share her story, I know it took a lot out of her to delve back into the memories of those dark times. But, yes there is a but. But, I don’t think the word infertility was uttered. I know, after her dance when she was talking to Erin Andrews, there was an awkward exchange where Erin called infertility, “this thing.” In my mind, I thought perhaps Erin also has suffered or is suffering from infertility and just couldn’t bring herself to say the word out loud. That’s totally conjecture on my part, but it sort of weakened the impact of Nancy’s story. Sure, no one wants to be the poster child for infertility, but when viewed alongside the story of Mr. T battling cancer, the wording was in such stark contrast. Mr. T battled cancer. Nancy Kerrigan dealt with “this thing.” Nancy expressed guilt, failure, and shame. Mr. T used words like overcame, grace, and survivor. I am not picking on these two celebrities, both of their stories moved me to tears, but in seeing their two journey’s dealing with medical afflictions, it was so evident how society shapes our views on the two. Nancy’s battle was not victoriously won, she was not viewed as survivor, rather she just dealt with this thing. I’m not trying to take away from Mr. T and, having a mother who survived breast cancer, I would also use all the words to describe him (survivor, victorious, an overcomer, etc.). But, I would use those same words to describe Nancy too.

 

The second ugh! part of Nancy’s story was when she expressed never giving up and remaining hopeful. She mentioned knowing what she wanted in her life and not giving up on that vision. In the end, it worked out for her and she has three (living) kids. But, the whole idea of not giving up in regards to infertility just rubs me the wrong way. Medical interventions are not magic, nor are they dependent upon how much hope you have in order to be successful. And, sometimes, that driving hope, that never give up attitude, can push you into a very dark place. Infertility is not figure skating or dancing or acting or any other human activity where perseverance equates success. An infertile woman could use treatments from the time she starts her menses until menopause and never successfully carry a pregnancy to term or even manage to conceive. And all of her hope and all of her perseverance will not make a whit of difference. Rather, it would be dangerous to her health both mental and physical. Just the mere idea that stopping infertility treatments or “giving up” before or without birthing a child equates loss of hope is a dangerous mindset. Hope doesn’t make babies, never giving up doesn’t bring a pregnancy to term. Not following every treatment is not the same as giving up. There are so many more factors involved, beyond personal attitude and persistence. For some women, their bodies simply cannot handle the treatments with the plethora of medications and hormone stimulants. For others it’s a question of faith and their religious beliefs that a higher power has predetermined their path. And, for some, like me, it’s a matter of finances. Infertility treatments are not for the less-fortunate, the outrageous costs are insurmountable when you are living very near pay-check to pay-check. Hope and determination cannot overcome it all.

 

I know it’s just a TV show, but I really felt let-down by Nancy’s story last night. There was such an opportunity to stare unflinching into the maws of infertility, to shake-off the shackles of the shameful, guilt-ridden taboo and instead it became “this thing.” I do applaud Nancy for sharing her story, I’m sure it will have some people thinking of how hard it must have been for her and her family. But, it’s sad to know infertility survivors are not the virtuous conquering hero’s like those who have survived other diseases. They’ve just dealt with “this thing.”