I think the past two years or so, I fell into the unhelpful pattern of magical thinking, the very same thought process by which people arrive at the random bits of "wisdom" that they so willingly dispense to women having trouble conceiving.
Yet I realized during a great conversation with my therapist yesterday that I had somehow left all that behind. I'm healthy, I'm doing what I love, and I take very good care of myself--after years of working to get here. So I need science to have a baby. So what? So it's hella expensive. Well, I've gotten many, many things for free that others have to pay tens of thousands for (like my education and all the grants I've been lucky enough to get). Life is inherently unfair, unjust, brutish and short. But, oddly enough, it is inherently beautiful, fulfilling, and far more magical than the most magical of thinking. Funny that.
We also talked a lot about anger, and I realized how intensely I chafe at the social expectations put not only on me, but on all women, especially those of reproductive age. A friend of mine who recently had twins comes to mind. She and her husband are artists, and he works at the university here, earning so little as an instructor that they qualify for WIC. Unfortunately, she's just not able to breast feed this time around, but some gal at WIC gave her the third degree about it, ignoring the fact that my friend had b'fed her older son until he was two or something. But no, this didn't matter, so she was made to feel like a bad mother and bad woman for not producing milk. I really related: I feel that I am often made to feel inferior or lacking or ill because my body doesn't seem to feel like getting pregnant. I know that this is wrong.
Why are our imagined possibilities for women so narrow and limited? It's as if, post-feminism, we get to assume all the responsibilities of men, while keeping all the old superstitions about women (except, thankfully, that we're too stupid or feeble to do anything but darn socks). You can bring home the bacon, but you better look like a star with a stylist while doing it. Your mind shouldn't be too wild, and your body should work like a hormonal machine.
I know that men face some weird, destructive social pressures of their own. But are they as pervasive and powerful as the ones we face? Do we infertile women feel incomplete only because our hearts cry out for a child, or are we also made to suffer by the constant message that we, as women, cannot be whole unless we become mothers? There's a continuum there, I'm sure, and it's far more complicated than my questions imply. I guess, at least, I know where I stand at the moment: the assumptions by others that I want to tow their line hurt me more than living child-free. But that, of course, is just me.
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I have pondered these questions many a time in the bath, in the car, in bed, and yes, even when I should be working. I think the answer is different for each woman, just as the infertility journey is different for each woman. I do like to think that we are the only ones who can decide what the future should be and what the expectations are, but like Sisyphus, we are rolling the boulder up the hill against all other expectations.
I can go on and on about how we are supposed to be comfortable with what we choose for ourselves (motherhood, etc), but the fact is that it is awfully hard to be comfortable when we choose against what most of society would have us do. Should we take comfort in knowing that we made the choice that was right for us? Yes. Will it be hard to do that? Yes.
I found a book that I think you might find helpful in your consideration of this issue. It is called Reconceiving Women: Separating Motherhood from Female Identity by Mardy S. Ireland. Unfortunately, I didn't read it before I had to give it back to the library. She examines the questions that you are raising from the perspective of one who is childless due to infertility. I really do need to get another copy and actually read it this time.
I also really liked what you said about how infertility treatments are very expensive but you have gotten other things for free that others have to pay for. I had been really thrashing about with anger that we are paying so much money for something that many can do for free (or worse, by accident) and this really struck me because I too did not have to pay for my education. DH and I both graduated debt-free (and that is probably more money than we will ever spend on infertility). I needed that perspective. So, thank you for that.
Best of luck!
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