Something interesting is now I’m at the infertility waiting room in Italy and I expected it to be different. I thought, surely, these women will be chatty and we’ll be exchanging horror stories over espressos !!!
Nope. Same old sad waiting room. Less comfortable chairs, less plants, same depression. Mamma Mia
Never been to a clinic of this type but I bet it’s an opportunity to explore anything that the heart intuitates may it be outfits or recipes. I love staring at spaces in old offices and just be with how it feels. Sometimes it’s a photo of a flower or a retro poster with a certain virtue like “team work”
One of those women may be a cancer survivor who is banking her eggs before starting chemotherapy. She may not be married or with a partner or ever considered pregnancy. But chemo sometimes results in irreversible infertility so, in the whirlwind of preparing to start treatment, some choose to pause to plan ahead. Facing mortality while planning for a future that may never materialize is one of the more traumatic experiences of a young adult cancer experience.
I think about what's going on in other's bodies often. As a woman with a slew of invisible illnesses, I know it's so easy to look as if you're just another human wandering through the world. No one knows that you're dying inside, that pain is ravaging your body, that your organs are failing from an inability to eat. But that's what's happening to me. What's happening to others that we don't see? And what would it be like if we all wore those facts like badges of honor? We're still living and thriving and waking up and putting on underwear. What would we look like as a society?
Thank you for writing this. I've been there. I also struggle with those shameful feelings and thoughts of resentment toward other women who get pregnant easily when I can't.
This is so touching! All potentially feeling the same but no one is connecting. Perhaps if people spoke they would feel less lonely... connection through vulnerability.
I’m a big believer in dopamine dressing! Whenever I have to go to the hospital (which is often) I wear my most cozy Roots sweats (a Canadian staple) and I always have a fun buff to contain my wild hair. Sometimes it’s got pineapples on it - sometimes flamingos. Always a conversation starter!
I just landed here via a suggestion from Claire Venus and quite enjoyed this stack. I write from the opposite perspective - someone who didn’t want children but also had to fight to have her uterus removed because doctors believed I would “change my mind.” My uterus was severely diseased - and my health and wellbeing never seemed to be prioritized over hypothetical children.
It’s great to read a completely different perspective on the issue of fertility - and I’m glad I found you!
I think I exchanged these tight, terrified close-lipped smiles if I recognized someone in that waiting room. That was the extent of the exchange but I think about those people all too often wondering where their story ended up. You wrote this piece with so much humanity even the "ugly" bits that all infertile people feel (and wish they didn't).
Our fertility clinic waiting room was decorated e myriad different seeds/seed pods. Intentional? I guess a bit on the nose to me.
Thank you for sharing this vulnerable and real piece with us. Sending you hope that you will no longer need fertility clinic services very very soon.
Seeds? Definitely too on the nose, ha!
Something interesting is now I’m at the infertility waiting room in Italy and I expected it to be different. I thought, surely, these women will be chatty and we’ll be exchanging horror stories over espressos !!!
Nope. Same old sad waiting room. Less comfortable chairs, less plants, same depression. Mamma Mia
Sigh. That's interesting. I'm sorry the chairs aren't as comfy though, at least they can give us that!
What an absolutely beautiful, gut/heart-wrenching piece. Thank you.
🙏
This piece is perfect.
Thank you 😭
Never been to a clinic of this type but I bet it’s an opportunity to explore anything that the heart intuitates may it be outfits or recipes. I love staring at spaces in old offices and just be with how it feels. Sometimes it’s a photo of a flower or a retro poster with a certain virtue like “team work”
I guess I can only be grateful there was no "team work" poster in that waiting room 😂
One of those women may be a cancer survivor who is banking her eggs before starting chemotherapy. She may not be married or with a partner or ever considered pregnancy. But chemo sometimes results in irreversible infertility so, in the whirlwind of preparing to start treatment, some choose to pause to plan ahead. Facing mortality while planning for a future that may never materialize is one of the more traumatic experiences of a young adult cancer experience.
I think about what's going on in other's bodies often. As a woman with a slew of invisible illnesses, I know it's so easy to look as if you're just another human wandering through the world. No one knows that you're dying inside, that pain is ravaging your body, that your organs are failing from an inability to eat. But that's what's happening to me. What's happening to others that we don't see? And what would it be like if we all wore those facts like badges of honor? We're still living and thriving and waking up and putting on underwear. What would we look like as a society?
Thank you for writing this. I've been there. I also struggle with those shameful feelings and thoughts of resentment toward other women who get pregnant easily when I can't.
This is so touching! All potentially feeling the same but no one is connecting. Perhaps if people spoke they would feel less lonely... connection through vulnerability.
I’m a big believer in dopamine dressing! Whenever I have to go to the hospital (which is often) I wear my most cozy Roots sweats (a Canadian staple) and I always have a fun buff to contain my wild hair. Sometimes it’s got pineapples on it - sometimes flamingos. Always a conversation starter!
I just landed here via a suggestion from Claire Venus and quite enjoyed this stack. I write from the opposite perspective - someone who didn’t want children but also had to fight to have her uterus removed because doctors believed I would “change my mind.” My uterus was severely diseased - and my health and wellbeing never seemed to be prioritized over hypothetical children.
It’s great to read a completely different perspective on the issue of fertility - and I’m glad I found you!
I think I exchanged these tight, terrified close-lipped smiles if I recognized someone in that waiting room. That was the extent of the exchange but I think about those people all too often wondering where their story ended up. You wrote this piece with so much humanity even the "ugly" bits that all infertile people feel (and wish they didn't).