Tag Archives: Parenthood

by

Social Media Woes

The past couple of weeks, months really, social media has been a virtual minefield!  Be it the great political divide, or the latest sports team winning or losing, or the announcement of yet another famous person who has died…it’s all been there on social media – the good, the bad, and certainly the ugly.

I generally try to self-moderate what I post on social media – not something everyone does.  I’m a professional, and 99% of what I post on social media I post publicly.  I use the rule of thumb that if I wouldn’t want my grandmother to know it, I shouldn’t post it.  At some point I know that my employer might “look me up”, and so I don’t gripe about my job or the people I work with.  In that same light, my neighbors and community members might look me up – so I don’t post about the funny or annoying things I see or overhear from my property.  I’m also a business owner – actually 2 businesses – and so my customers might look me up, and so I don’t post anything negative about my “competitors”.  If you follow me on Facebook, then you know that I post and share darn near anything related to coffee, many posts about positive, uplifting, empowering sentiments, cute animals, lovely pictures of things in nature, and sometimes things that are just plain hilarious.  I post pictures of my own animals, my family, and my tattoos.  I post a lot of information about MRKH.  And I post about God and prayer.

Remember, my rule of thumb is “would I want my grandmother to know about it”.  Does she know about my tattoos, MRKH, and my belief in God?  Sure, she does.  Yet, somehow…on social media, those are controversial somehow.  They make some people uncomfortable.

I get how tattoos are not for everyone, and the fact that I have ANY tattoos in the first place surprises some people.  Some might even go so far as to say that I’ve violated some sacred rule by getting a tattoo – your body is a temple and all that.  Don’t get me started about piercings! Both are personal expressions, and choices I’ve deliberately made.  Ok, fine, so you don’t like tattoos or piercings, does that mean that now you don’t like ME?  Apparently, for some, yes.

I totally understand how my talk of MRKH can make people uncomfortable.  After all, I talk about “private parts” in public (gasp!).  I use anatomically correct names like vagina, uterus, ovaries, kidneys in regular conversations.  If people start asking questions I go so far as to talk about vaginal dilation, vaginal depth, and sexual intercourse.  Yep, I talk about all those things in public while I’m talking about MRKH, and it makes people uncomfortable – but I also talk about raising awareness, reducing shame, educating our medical providers, and empowering women.

In the past few months, I’ve also posted more openly about my faith – God, Prayer, Forgiveness, and even posted pictures of my own Baptism.  Apparently this also makes people uncomfortable.

I will not apologize for posting things that might make you feel uncomfortable, although it makes me sad to see that some of the people I enjoy seeing in my news feed have now disappeared through the use of the “unfriend” button.  In fact, I find it rather ironic actually.  I self moderate, and intentionally don’t post things I think are likely to stir up an argument.

I don’t post about politics – it’s a topic I dislike discussing.  I’ll not tell you how I voted, or how I feel about the outcome of the elections.  I’ll not forward on memes making fun of or showing blatant disrespect for any politician.  I probably won’t even like a post…even if I find it hilarious or spot on accurate…if I think it will associate me one way or the other to a side of a debate I don’t want to have.  Don’t get me wrong, I have my opinions – I just don’t use social media as an outlet to debate them.

Here are the things I will tell you, knowing full well you may disagree with me on any of them, and THAT’S OK with me!

  • I am a Christian, and believe that Jesus died for me on that cross, and someday he will come back for me.
  • I believe in equal rights for all humans, genders, races, cultures, religions, and sexual orientations.
  • I believe in marriage and the commitment and fidelity it implies – no matter who you love.
  • I believe in the right to have an abortion if you feel justified.
  • I believe that couples who struggle with any form of infertility should have access to treatments including IVF, Surrogacy, and Transplants when medically necessary – and it shouldn’t cost the proverbial arm and a leg for it!
  • I believe our country needs quality, comprehensive, and accessible healthcare for everyone regardless of income level.
  • I believe our country needs quality, comprehensive, and accessible education for everyone regardless of income level.
  • I believe in responsible gun ownership, and the ability to both protect and provide for yourself and your family.
  • I believe everyone should be conscientious stewards of our planet and our natural resources.
  • I believe everyone is entitled to their opinions, and their right to share them publicly if they choose to do so.

Bottom line, I am a strong and independent woman.  I self identify as a happily married, tattooed and pierced, heterosexual woman, a Christian, a gun owner, an Army veteran, an MRKH warrior, a business owner, a coffee and wine lover, an animal lover, and an advocate for others just like – or very different – from me!

Don’t be afraid to stand up for what you believe in – just do it with dignity, respect, and love.  Wouldn’t our world be a better place if we all did it this way?

 

 

 

by

Do you have kids?

I think figuring out a tactful way to answer this is pretty simple really, and not really the issue.

“No, we don’t have children.” Is sometimes enough for the person asking.  And it’s the answer that is easiest to give, because it doesn’t give anything away.  It doesn’t elude to the heartbreak that is infertility.  The inability to have a child no matter what you do.  It’s the simple answer to the basic and simple question.

When I was younger, and in my “prime child bearing years”, often the question was followed up with a more probing question of “why not?” or “when are you planning them?”.  Sometimes I was brutally honest, and very blunt in my response, “I was born without a uterus and can’t get pregnant.”  And sometimes, I would give an answer along the lines of, “we are considering our options for adoption, but the timing just isn’t right yet.”  I tried not to get too involved with the details, giving just enough information that the questions would stop.  I didn’t share the hurt that comes along with being told at 18 that you are infertile, that you will never carry a child in your body.  I would never shop for maternity clothes, I would never pee on a stick and wait with wild anticipation of the results.  That option was ripped away from me when I was diagnosed with MRKH.

I still wanted to have children.  I would adopt.  I would get that perfect newborn baby to love and cherish, and that would somehow make me normal and my life would be as I had perfectly planned it to be.  And a couple years later I would get another perfect baby and be a doting mother to 2 charming children – maybe even 3.

Things were falling into place in my life, and so I started really thinking about motherhood and adoption.  I met with social workers, attended support groups, wrote biographies, and talked with doctors about pursing parenthood.  I bought baby clothes and supplies, knowing that if I could just get a baby then my life would be complete.

Over the course of a few months, things changed pretty rapidly in my life.  Or rather, the accumulation of events led to some difficult decisions.  I put the brakes on starting a family in an attempt to truly have control over my life.  I comforted myself in the thought that I could always start again, but first I needed to get MY life in line.

In the months and years that followed, I had several friends start families either through planned or unplanned pregnancies.  I just kept waiting for the right time and worked on filling my life with other activities – putting my infertility on the back burner.  I stumbled around for several years trying to figure out just what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I listened as my biological clock ticked telling me you need to get busy with this parenting thing…you need to get that baby by the time you’re 30.  As I got closer and closer to 30, I thought…well maybe 35.  I could get my life together by the time I’m 35 and still be a mom.  I’d be more responsible and “ready” then to truly give my child the life they deserved.

I wanted to be a mother, but I started to question if I needed to be a mother to be complete in my life.  Was I destined to be a mother, or was my purpose in life to be something else?  I wasn’t sure anymore.  I enjoyed the life I was leading, and I knew that I would be a good mother if a child came into my life. But I had a choice.  My husband and I had a choice, and we could chose to NOT be parents.  After-all, our default option was to not be parents.  There was no way we could accidentally become parents, get unexpectedly pregnant.  We truly had to make a choice – just let the default option be the answer, or actively pursue parenthood. In all honesty, we pretty much just let the default option take over.  We didn’t talk for hours and hours about the pros and cons of parenthood.  We didn’t discuss financial implications of adopting a child or pursuing surrogacy.   We didn’t talk about savings accounts and college funds and baby nurseries and family friendly cars.  We just let the default option be.  We were complete in our individual lives, and in our married lives.  We loved our nieces and nephews, and we would have loved a child.  But we didn’t NEED a child to be whole.

So now, when people ask us, “Do you have children?”, we usually answer “No, we never got around to that.”  Somehow, in your mid 40s if you state that you haven’t had children, it’s an acceptable thing.  Whatever lead to the choice isn’t as important, and they just accept the fact that you chose not to be parents.

I now use the question as an opportunity to talk about infertility and MRKH.  Sometimes I share just a little, and sometimes I spend close to an hour talking about it.  We begin with a recitation of facts:

  • 1 in 8 couples struggles with infertility in some form
  • up to 25% of pregnancies end in miscarriage in the first trimester
  • 1 in 33 babies are born with some sort of congenital birth defect
  • 1 in 4500 women world wide are diagnosed with MRKH

And then I start to discuss my own diagnosis, being born without a uterus, cervix, and the upper portion of my vaginal canal.  I tell them about abnormal kidneys and skeletal and joint issues.  I explain that I do have ovaries and hormones, and all the outward signs of being a woman.  I explain that I still have hormonal cycles – PMS if you will – I just don’t have the punctuation in the form of menstrual bleeding – no period.  Often a full discussion follows where my anatomy is discussed in great detail, to include how I had to stretch my vaginal canal in order to have penetrative vaginal intercourse.  We sometimes talk about other treatment options of vaginal dilators and surgical creation of a neovagina.  And I talk about WHY I talk about it.  How I went over 25 years thinking I was so different, never meeting another woman who had the same thing as me – feeling ashamed of my “otherness” – depression – adoption – surrogacy.  I never want another women to feel so utterly alone.

While I don’t particularly enjoy talking about my physical differences, I feel it’s important – no VITAL – to remove the shame associated with having MRKH.  I am no less a woman than someone who is born with one blue eye and one brown eye.  I am no less a woman than someone who is born with a cleft palate.  I am no less a woman than someone who is born without a fully developed hand or foot.  I am in a unique position where I can say that while I will forever carry this diagnosis – but my diagnosis will not hold me back.  Plenty of my MRKH sisters are mothers.  Some have adopted children, some have used gestational carriers, some are foster parents, and many more of us are pet-parents.  And we are scientists, teachers, engineers, veterinarians, authors, fitness coaches, yogis, accountants, farmers, librarians, politicians, pastors, truck drivers, day care workers, business owners, beauty queens, doctors, counselors, sailors, soldiers, MRKH Warriors.

We are stronger than we ever thought possible.  We are compassionate.  We are fighters, survivalists.  We learn to make a life with what we have, and not focus on what we don’t have.  We learn to improvise, adapt and overcome.  Our path may not be clear, well lit, and obvious – but we will follow it none the less.  We are Courageous.

“How few there are who have courage enough to own their faults, or resolution enough to mend them.”  Benjamin Franklin