Hi. My Name is Glam-O-Mommy and I'm Infertile.

Me: "Hi. My name is Glam-O-Mommy and I'm infertile."

Me: "Hi Glam-O-Mommy."

This is me imagining myself at an Infertility Anonymous meeting. And how many people are in the meeting besides me? NO ONE. I'm having the conversation with myself.

I've documented my battle with infertility in somewhat graphic detail here on my blog before. I am one of the lucky ones. I emerged victorious from my battle with a beautiful baby girl.

Still, I wish I had known someone like me when I was in the trenches of my battle. Someone willing to talk about it.

My battle had been going on for over seven months before I even realized I was in a battle and I was losing. We had been trying to get pregnant faithfully each month. My doctor told me to come in and get a blood test to check to see that I was ovulating. I was at work when I realized I'd missed a call on my cell phone from his nurse. On the message, she told me I got a "two" on the test and needed to call her back. Being EXTREMELY naive, I called her back. "I got your message," I said hopefully. "Is a 'two' good?" "You need to be a 14 or above to be ovulating," she informed me matter-of-factly. "So, I failed the test," I said stupidly.

I remember vividly how at that moment I felt like icicles were sliding through my veins, when in fact the temperature was in the 90s with high humidity and I was sweating. Things were about to get VERY DARK and emotionally torturous for months, with no end in sight.

And the worst part of it was...no one I knew, except possibly my husband, could really understand what it was like to be me.

Or, the ones who did know, weren't so big on talking about it. Many women feel that battling infertility is something shameful, and I understand that feeling. You feel like a failure as a woman. Women were made to give birth. That is our role in the circle of life. We carry the babies. So it is devastating to find out that something so elemental, something you spent years and money trying to PREVENT from happening at the wrong time, is never going to happen now that it's the RIGHT time.

You feel damaged and broken. And the majority of people you encounter just have absolutely no capacity to understand or relate to how you feel and what you are going through, even when you try to half-heartedly give them a little insight into the fact that you are having DIFFICULTIES without going into graphic detail. And they say stuff that they think is absolutely well-meaning, but in reality STABS you in the heart repeatedly.

I mean, when you have gotten a "two" on a test that you should've scored a 14 or above on, and the doctor tells you that means you do not ovulate (which is totally weird because you seemingly have a period every month, so what is that about?) and you, being an educated person, understand that no ovulation=NO BABY, you don't really know how to respond when confronted when these kind of statements from Well-Meaning People [WMP]. Because most of the time, it's none of their business, so you just keep things to yourself, but other times, you just want to come out with the truth so they will shut the H-E-double-hockey-sticks up. Although most times, these people are the truly clueless, who upon hearing you have a problem, continue with these statements, not understanding they should just shut up.

Things Never to Say to Anyone (Because You Have No Idea If Someone is Possibly Infertile):

• "You just need to relax, then you'll get pregnant." (Um, no I won't. I am barren.)
• "The minute we stopped trying, we got pregnant." (Um, that won't happen for me. I am a failure!)
• "I heard if you put your legs in the air for 20 minutes after sex, that will help you get pregnant." (Um, no it doesn't. Believe me, I tried. Stupid waste of time. Besides, I'm barren.)
• "Maybe you should adopt. I heard that when people adopt a baby, they usually get pregnant right afterwards." (Hello...adoption is a wonderful choice, but that's not a good reason to adopt a baby!)
• "I know how you feel. It took us two months to get pregnant." (Please kill me now.)
• "I just don't understand why you don't want to give your parents grandchildren!" (Speechless devastation.)

While I heard all of these things and many more, the last one was a real doozy. It was said to me by an Annoying Aunt of mine, who is not a WMP by any stretch of the imagination, at a family reunion. Loudly and haughtily. So most of my relatives could hear it. As if I was CHOOSING to be childless to spite my parents!! I was literally rendered speechless and just walked away. I had to avoid her for the rest of the weekend because every time she came within 10 feet of me, she started in on the topic of my selfish childlessness like a dog refusing to let go of a juicy bone.

Believe me when I tell you that if a woman says to you she is having problems getting pregnant, she does not want you to say any of the statements above, or anything else. What she wants is for you to simply say something like, "I'm so sorry. That must be really tough." And then LISTEN and be a friend.

Anyway. I am getting a little off-track here. What I feel passionate about now is speaking up about my infertility battle. I tried to talk about it with people as I was going through it, and I mostly got blank stares or the aforementioned comments, because it's just impossible for people to understand it unless they go through it themselves. And today, when I bring it up in conversation, most people still don't get it. But I bring it up very specifically, so that if the person I'm talking to IS facing that battle themselves, they know I am someone they can talk to and someone who will listen and understand.

Here's how the conversation generally goes:

WMP: "So how many kids do you have?"

Me: "I have one daughter."

WMP: "How old is she?"

Me: "She's almost two."

WMP: "So, are you going to have another one?"

Me: "No. I had to take fertility drugs and do fertility treatment to get pregnant with her, because we couldn't get pregnant without help. I don't want to put myself through all of that again, but I'm just so grateful I have one healthy baby."

WMP who has no trouble getting pregnant: "Oh, well, some people still get pregnant on their own after fertility treatments, you know. I have a friend..."

Me: Trying to not roll my eyes....

or

WMP who is having trouble getting pregnant: "Really? You guys had trouble? We're kind of going through that right now."

Me: "Ask me anything. I'm happy to share my experience with you."

I've actually had this conversation with several women who started asking me questions because they were facing infertility. One was a coworker, and I met with her almost monthly, kind of like a little infertility support group for her, for over a year until she finally got pregnant through treatment. Her baby was born recently and I'm so happy for her! And she is grateful to me for being there as someone who can understand and relate, which makes me really happy, like something good (besides my amazing miracle child) is coming out of the pain and loneliness I felt during my infertilty battle.

NOW, I know there are tons of infertility-related blogs and online communities out there. I wish I had known about them when I was going through my own experience, because I am sure they would've provided support to me and helped me feel less isolated, but I didn't. Either way, both online and in person, I am now all about speaking out about infertility. It is NOTHING to be ashamed of. It is a MEDICAL CONDITION and we need to support women going through it rather than making them feel like there is something shameful about it. (We also need to get insurance companies to cover more of the costs related to infertility treatment because it is a medical condition, but that's another post entirely.)

I really admire the actress Constance Marie. She is 44 and has a young baby. She's currently blogging on People.com in their celebrity baby blog section about motherhood and wrote an in-depth entry the other week on exactly what she went through to have her daughter. Her battle was WAY worse than mine. Her honesty prompted lots of comments from other women facing their own infertilty battles and I think it's terrific that she is speaking so openly about her experience, as it can really help other women to know they are not alone.

This last week, actress Catherine Bell was also featured on People.com's celebrity baby blog. She is pregnant with her second child. The headline was "Catherine Bell: Son Was Conceived 'Pretty Much Naturally'". In the article, it says: "'We were totally trying,' the Army Wives star, 41, reveals. 'I conceived pretty much naturally.' In fact, it was just two months after starting the fertility drug Clomid that Bell became pregnant."

I like her, but this really rankled me. And it's probably completely irrational on my part, I know, but I was disappointed. Why couldn't she just say, "We needed some help, so we used Clomid." Instead, she's trying to make it sound less shameful that she had help, when there is NO SHAME in getting help. Actually, from the article, she makes it sound like they just wanted to get pregnant quickly, so they may not really have needed help anyway, they just used Clomid to speed things along, but still! I have to tell you, there is nothing 'pretty much natural' about Clomid. Clomid makes you a raging menopausal crazy person, which is very unnatural. But it does help you get pregnant, so it's amazing. And that is what I think we should say.

I feel so grateful that medicine and technology (gifts from God in my opinion) have given women like me a chance to be a mother. Even with all of that, there are still women who will not be one of the lucky ones. Who will still not get pregnant with all of that in their corner, for reasons mysterious and unknown. But all of us, the lucky ones and the unlucky ones, have nothing to be ashamed of. We need compassion, support, and understanding. And we need to use our voices to help fight the stigma of infertility. So that's what I'm doing.

Yes, I have a beautiful baby. But I am indelibly changed by the experience I went through to have her. Sometimes I feel like I walk around with an invisible red "I" on my chest. I am still an infertile woman. My experience colors how I view the world. So I am going to keep speaking out and hope that sharing my experience helps others in some small way to not feel alone. And I am going to hug my baby tight and love and cherish every moment I have with her. Because, while all children are miracles, I know mine really is. :)