The Injustice of Infertility

When I decided I was going to write a book about my fertility journey, it was for the millions of women, like me, who know the disappointment, pain and fear that comes when you're forced to picture a life without children in it.

It was for those who suffer in silence, who hide their grief behind fake smiles and who punish themselves because they think this is all their fault.

But what I didn't imagine, when I sat down at my computer almost 2 years ago to start writing, is that it would become my own love story. 

The decision to tell our story was an easy one, but it hadn’t occurred to me that this process would affect me so deeply.  I had no idea that I had pushed down every single emotion we had encountered on our journey deep down inside.  And that me writing this book would include not only documenting our story, but grieving at the same time.  That it would be like ripping off a bandaid.

When I sat down to write the first chapter of my book, I was shocked to find myself sitting at my computer with the words flowing out of me, and tears streaming down my face. 

I had to piece together the information about our journey via medical records. It didn’t cross my mind at the time that we should keep a journal to remember things.  Of course, I didn’t think I’d be writing a book about it.  Nor did I think it would be a 7-year journey.  

There were so many moments I had forgotten, that came rushing back.

Like sitting in the Emergency room while having a miscarriage, and being treated like you have an illness, rather than someone who requires some compassion.

Or laying in the hospital on a cold, hard gurney with my surgery cap, gown and booties on, waiting to be wheeled into exploratory surgery, only to be told it had been cancelled due to a mix up with the paperwork.

I had forgotten them, because I didn't want to remember those shameful moments. Where you wonder what you did wrong to deserve this path. Those memories were too painful to comprehend. So, I had pushed them all down.

And in reality, I didn’t want to be living it, let alone remember it for later.  For the first 5 years of our fertility rollercoaster we had run so fast and so hard, that our memories were a jumbled blur.  

Up until this point I hadn’t acknowledged the journey we had been on or the level of trauma and loss we had suffered at the hands of infertility.  Because it was too big and too devastating to comprehend at the time.

Writing this book has been the toughest yet most rewarding thing I have ever done, apart from living the journey itself.  I faced demons that I had been running away from my whole life. Emotions I had pushed to the side or put the lid on. 

I'll be honest with you; it was a bloody tough slog. Hence why it took me 2 years!

But here we are. My work is done. Our story is complete.

This book, is aptly titled The Injustice of Infertility.  And that’s exactly what it is.  The unfairness of why one couple gets their baby, while you struggle year after year, cycle after cycle, miscarriage after miscarriage.

But this story isn’t just about the pain that comes with infertility. 

It wasn't until I got to the end of our story that I was able to see it in a different light. I saw the magnitude of what we had endured.  The fact that we had never given up.  And I was able to acknowledge just how strong, brave and driven/stubborn I was. 

It's not until I wrote it all down and took a step back that I was able to fully appreciate everything we had gone through.  We went through a lot of shit.  But we kept getting back up.  It blows my mind. I now respect the journey and am proud of everything we have achieved. 

I was able to finally accept that this was our story. It wasn’t conventional, we pushed so freaking hard, and it looked nothing like I had imagined.  I fell in love with my story and reconnected with myself.  I was able to see that my story was not something to be ashamed of, but celebrated.

It was a way of releasing the anger and frustration, and finally forgiving myself and my body for everything that I thought it had done wrong. Putting down the guilt for all the horrible thoughts, and the inability to be happy for those who were falling pregnant around me.

It made me see the woman I had become, but also the woman I had always been. I broke apart and was able to put myself back together even stronger than before. 

Infertility has a way of stripping everything away from you – your dreams, the person you think you are, and your dignity.  It’s like your body, your mind and basically life, is betraying you.  So you put up your walls, create a fake exterior and internalise everything. You start hating yourself. And one day you wake up and realise that you’re broken. 

I haven’t censored anything in this book.  Which is a little scary for me to be honest. I have exposed myself and ALL the thoughts going through my head during my journey, because I wanted to make this book an honest account of what happens inside your mind when you’re suffering from infertility.  

People may judge me and think I’m a crazy person. And that’s ok.  

But this book is about the truth. My truth. Which is the truth for so many of you out there.  

I can’t wait for you to read it (on sale November 20!!)

p.s.  if you’d like to be one of the first to get your hands on a copy of my book and have the opportunity to become part of a very exclusive book club, all you have to do is put your details in the link below.

I’ll be choosing 10 women from this list who will receive a free electronic copy of my book before it’s released.  PLUS over 6 weeks, I’ll be holding weekly video group sessions where I’ll be reading snippets from the book and providing you with the opportunity to discuss / ask questions / and receive coaching on your own journey. 

Enter here!