By Inconceivable Mama
Dealing with infertility causes you to ask yourself a lot of questions. The first time the word “infertility” was spoken in our house I immediately began to re-question some things that I had done YEARS ago. Everyone has skeletons in their closet. Some people’s skeletons are bigger than others.
I have a pretty big skeleton in my closet which directly relates to my concerns regarding our inability to conceive a baby. There are only a handful of people who know my dirty little secret and I have worked very hard to keep it that way. There are only two reasons why I have chosen to share my secret. First, it directly relates to my story and secondly, I can hide behind this curtain of anonymity afforded to me by the wonderful ladies of nwaMotherlode. So without further adieu I will out myself to the world.
When I was seventeen years old I was drugged at a party and raped. I do not have a single memory of the incident only that I woke up confused and sore. I was a virgin and came from a pretty strict family that was firmly against pre-marital sex. In my shame and fear of my parent’s wrath I chose not to tell anyone. I kept my secret buried deep inside me for about seven weeks until all the signs began to indicate that I had become pregnant as a result of the rape. I was terribly scared, I didn’t know what to do and I feared that if I told people now they wouldn’t believe I was raped and would think I just made it up or that I must have done something to indicate I was “asking for it”. Seriously, the fears ingrained in me ran that deep!
I had no one to turn to. I was two weeks away from graduating from high school and had a bright future ahead of me that certainly did not include a baby that I didn’t want. Additionally the thought of raising a child that was created by someone who thought it was okay to rape me and take away my innocence turned my stomach. Alone and scared I made my decision and despite my feelings that what I was about to do was very wrong, I elected to have an abortion. I borrowed money from a friend who was willing to loan it to me no questions asked.
The procedure took less than 10 minutes and I walked out of the doctor’s office believing in my 17-year-old mind that I had solved all my problems and life would rock on and I would never have to think about that day again. I realize that abortion is a very controversial topic and I do not wish to get into that aspect of it. Believe me when I say that it was a decision made out of desperation and it is something I have not gone a single day without thinking about. Life didn’t quite rock on as I had expected it to.
My point in sharing this now is that for the last two years I have wondered non-stop if having an abortion all those years ago has done something to cause me to be infertile. I hate to think that some loser who drugged me at a party fifteen years ago still has a hold on my life. That my husband, the love of my life, and I are now struggling to conceive a child possibly because of him is incomprehensible. I know I am the one who made the decision to abort the child I carried inside of me but I blame him for putting me into a position where I had to make that decision.
My doctor is aware of the fact that I had an abortion – although he doesn’t know the circumstances surrounding it – yet he assures me that it is not playing any part in our current state of infertility. While that may be so, it doesn’t seem fair that two people who love each other so deeply are unable to conceive a child yet it was so simple for a child to be formed through a union that was disgusting and the furthest from love that you can get.
I sought counseling for several years at the beginning of Hubs and my marriage because of the many insecurities I had that likely stemmed from the rape. I had finally come to terms with it; I put the past away and moved beyond it. Yet here it is again, lurking just outside the door threatening to take away my sanity.
Infertility is not just a medical problem. It is mentally, physically and emotionally draining. Infertility will rock your world and cause you to go over your past with a fine tooth comb and question every move you made that got you to today.
I imagined conceiving a child on a night that was filled with passion and romance. I imagined a moment of complete abandon and a deep expression of our love for each other. What I did not imagine is that we would be seeking the help of professionals to do for us what we are unable to do on our own while the skeletons in our closet grab a hold of us with their bony little fingers and try to drag us down. Romantic isn’t it?
We welcome new mom blogger, Inconceivable Mama, to nwaMotherlode. This is her 2nd post. We appreciate her sharing this difficult journey with us. We know there are many of you out there who are walking a similar path. Inconceivable Mama has lived in Arkansas for 15 years and is a teacher. She and her Hubs don’t have any kids (…yet) but live on a small farm with dogs, cats, chickens and horses. She is writing anonymously for now.