Tuesday 11 June 2013

Perhaps, not so invisible...


When Co-worker and I were both trying to conceive, we were both aware of how awkward it could be if one of us became pregnant while the other was still struggling with the process. She has been very respectful and tactful toward me, but it's inevitable that the spotlight follows her while I fade into the background. As I've mentioned before, I don't necessarily want the attention, but the focus on her just sometimes reminds me of my loss.

The other day, I announced that I was walking over to the hospital. "Wait up!" called our lead physician, "I'll come with you." I paused at the top of the stairs. I figured she probably wanted to discuss a recent situation with a difficult patient; but to my surprise, she asked, "How are you doing? I have been thinking of you. I know it can be hard not only dealing with Co-worker's pregnancy, but also caring for pregnant patients." I was completely touched. Suddenly, I didn't feel so transparent and it was comforting to learn that I was in her thoughts. Interestingly, I had never intended to share any of our procreation plans or subsequent problems with her. I did so in a fleeting moment when I couldn't come up with a plausible excuse to explain my absence for an important meeting. Once again, I was reminded that emotional support can come from unexpected sources.

She shared her frustrations from when she experienced being an infertile gynaecologist and barren obstetrician, "I felt that I would deliver everyone else's babies, but never one of my own." I always knew that I wasn't alone, as there probably are a fair number of infertile women's health care providers, but it was still surprising to learn that I was in such close proximity to another comrade. I expressed that I feel incompetent and inadequate when patients present for fertility consultations. It doesn't bother me too much to care for pregnant patients, but at times I'm reminded of how privileged I am to have this connection with these women and their families and I'll wonder if this is the extent of my exposure to this human experience. She detailed that during their first year of TTC, multiple sister-in-laws and college friends quickly became pregnant. Eventually, she began to anticipate someone else's pregnancy announcement with every negative test she had. Finally, after one year and at the point when she thought it would never happen, she received a BFP and went to to deliver a healthy baby girl. So, you didn't actually have a diagnosis...at times I just can't turn off the clinician in my brain.

"You'll get there. I know you will." She said emphatically and repeated it over and over as we talked. You haven't seen our numbers; you don't have any evidence... I needed to remind myself that she was speaking to me as a friend and not as a doctor. I struggle so much to accept the proclamations of "it will happen," as it strikes me as being so fallible. As someone who does not hold spiritual faith, I rely on science; but I accept that science is not without limitations and imperfections. Despite models calculated to predict success, the element of the unknown is still an influential variable. The unexplained nature of infertility still baffles the greatest scientific minds. As a core element, every pregnancy requires follicular development, ovulation, fertilisation and implantation; so while the science is always accurate, unfortunately, it is not always predictable. Truthfully, no one knows if it will happen or not, which makes it hard to hear the presumptions.

Recently, Co-worker shared with me that when she was hyperstimulated and thought there was no possibility of pregnancy, she went to one of our primary care providers to evaluate her abdominal pains. The medical assistant who did her intake recognised the significance of the medication Clomid, as she shared her own experience with infertility. She was now in her early 40's and struggled to conceive on her own for seven years. By the time she sought evaluation by a specialist she had no ovarian reserve and was experiencing menopausal symptoms. Co-worker commented that it was just recently (when she was 26 weeks) that the medical assistant approached her and said, "So, ...I never actually asked you what you are having..." which was her way of addressing the fact that it took her this long to acknowledge Co-worker's pregnancy.

I don't know this woman very well as she works in a different department, but immediately I had empathy for her. Should I ever have a viable pregnancy, it will be one more announcement for her to endure. I know that I can't say anything to her, as not to betray the trust and confidence between her and Co-worker. I just wish I could let her know that she is not invisible -and that someone is thinking about her.

9 comments:

  1. You're right, support comes from unexpected places and it feels good to know people are thinking about you and hoping for your success. That's what I love about blogging too, another place of support.

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  2. How sweet of her! I'm sure there are many more thinking about you!!

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  3. It's nice to know that with all the clueless people out there saying stupid things to us, there are others who are sensitive and caring, and keeping us in their thoughts. I'm so glad you have people like that around you :)

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  4. It is so difficult to not feel isolated in this infertility world. I'm glad you have some people at work that are sensitive and you can relate to.

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  5. "While the science is always accurate, unfortunately, it is not always predictable" -- my god, that just perfectly sums it up! I almost want to put that in my blog header because it's just so true. On the one hand, science has given us SO much in terms of infertility treatment.. and yet, so many women still don't succeed in making it happen. Or it happens when they least expect it. Or it happens despite ignoring science. Etc. etc. This just makes it all the more difficult when you're going through it, regardless of whether you're a medical professional or not. In any case, it can be annoying to take advice from someone who's gotten pregnant after a year and never did actual treatment, but her heart is clearly in the right place. Gotta give her that.

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  6. I've definitely found support in some of the strangest places. That's why I've stopped being worried about talking about my infertility. But I also know how it feels to not be able to turn off that voice in your head when people are giving you a pep talk. It's nice that they're trying, but they just can't be sure things will ever work out.

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  7. That is so kind of the physician to approach you. It is so true that you can find support from where you least expect it. I found myself spilling my whole story to a friend that I rarely see who is 6 months pregnant, and she had the kindest and most supportive response. We may feel like a small fish in a big pond, but there are a lot of people that are either in the same shoes or are at least compassionate and educated on the subject.

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  8. It's never a given that when you share someone will be supportive. I'm glad you took a chance and she remembered you. You deserve support!

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  9. I have also always had a really difficult time of hearing "it WILL happen." Every time someone would say that to me, or I would read it in a comment on someone else's blog, I would think "how do you know? It actually might NOT happen." I would much rather have the reality of knowing it might NOT happen, than the total devastation if it didn't. Even being pregnant now, I keep in mind the fact that it doesn't guarantee a take home baby in the end. We just can't truly know until the time comes.

    I am glad you found someone to offer you some extra support. It's nice when it comes unexpectedly.

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