#StartAsking for Recognition

This week is – in the US at least – National Infertility Awareness Week, and as part of it they have a Bloggers Unite Challenge. This year, the theme is #StartAsking. I don't always participate in their challenge, but this year their theme seemed appropriate to me.

To #StartAsking for help, asking for anything, is really tough for many of us. I’ve been reminded how hard it is to ask for help the last week or two. I’m sure if I’d only picked up the phone and asked friends to help out, they would have. But my husband and I were coping, even if it wasn’t that easy or that pleasant, and so I didn’t. To think about actually asking for help, for acknowledgement, for recognition, is often very difficult for us. So I heartily approve of their 2016 theme.

Whilst I know many bloggers will have gone public with their #StartAsking appeal, mine is actually to those in this community, those of us who come out of infertility to live our lives without children. For some years I’ve been doing this anyway, but it’s good to make a conscious choice around it. I want to start asking for recognition that not having children is a legitimate outcome after infertility.

I’ve written about it before of course. Those going through infertility don’t want to contemplate failure. Because that’s how they see us, at least when they are in the midst of infertility madness. I note that Fertility NZ's list of forums doesn't include one for those who don't have children, despite saying they are there to provide support during infertility "and beyond." The rest of society see us as pitiable. But we’re not. I’ve written before too that I think we are the true success stories, showing that it is possible to embrace an outcome that does not deliver our preferred way of life, to live good lives, and to be happy.

So I don’t just want to ask for recognition that not having children is a legitimate outcome of infertility. I want to demand it. People talk about getting their “happily ever after.” Well, it’s time they recognised that we get our happily ever after too. It’s just not the one we anticipated. It’s time we recognised that too.

So I’m going to continue pointing out to others that they can’t make assumptions about my life. I’m going to tell them the realities, be happy when I have reason to be happy, and be sad when I have reason to be sad or feel bereft. When parents worry about their old age, I’m not going to keep silent, but point out that they have it easier than I do (when it is true of course). “Cry me a river!” I recently said to someone who had no reason to complain. And I’m not going to keep quiet about the joys of sleeping in, or travelling outside of school holiday periods, taking advantage of cheaper accommodation and flights, and quieter planes and empty museums. We take joy in their joy as parents. They can take joy in my joy in living a life without children. We commiserate and help out when their kids are sick or troubled. We can ask them to commiserate and help out when we are going through tough times. Many of us of course have friends and family and colleagues who do this already, and I’m grateful for them. But when this isn’t the case, I’m going to start asking for legitimate consideration. I’m not going to be obnoxious about it, but will ask subtly, politely, firmly.

On a wider, societal basis, it’s time that we were seen as legitimate members of society, contributing fully, providing support, and valid members of the electorate and economy. It’s time advertisers stopped ignoring women without children, and that politicians recognised that not everyone has a family, that we pay taxes and vote too. It’s time the fertility industry acknowledged that there are some people they will never be able to help, no matter how much money they spend, and that this is a legitimate outcome, one that needs to be treated with respect and sensitivity.

Recognition. I’m not just asking for it, I’m demanding it.

Note:  Since publishing this post this morning, I have edited it post, removing links to NIAW and Resolve, after receiving yet another piece of spam from what appears to be one of their sponsors. None of their sponsors provide services to those of us without children, of course. Once we stop pursuing fertility treatments, we don't deliver the big bucks any more. 

The message of my post still stands. But now I need to also #StartAsking for recognition from Resolve too, and for freedom from irrelevant spam marketing.

Read Pamela's post about the role of their sponsors, and conflict of interest here.