Skip to main content

How my husband has helped me through infertility and pregnancy loss


Lately I’ve had a couple of conversations with men who are facing infertility with their wives. And it got me thinking about all of the things that my husband has done right throughout this process. It must be so hard for men to know exactly what to do for their wives as we feel all the feels of infertility. I’m not going to say that infertility is harder on women than men, because I don’t necessarily believe that. But I do believe that men and women process their emotions differently. As does each individual person. So I’m not going to sit here and say “this is what you should do for your wife”, or “this is what you need”. I’m no expert, and every person is different. What I will do is share what my husband has done for me that has helped me through infertility and pregnancy loss. And maybe there are some nuggets in there that you can take and use for yourself. I’m by no means saying that my husband is a perfect husband, and he does all the right things. He and I had to really learn what each other needed through all of our struggles. And he is amazing at “adapting” and learning from our experiences, so that he can be the best support possible.

He has given me grace. He lets me mourn our losses. He lets me have a pity party when that’s what I need. He lets me have days where I don’t do a single productive thing, and he doesn’t judge me for that.

He grieves with me. The losses aren’t my losses, they’re OUR losses. I was talking to a man recently who said “my wife had a miscarriage”… and it hurt to hear him say that. He was saying that his wife had a loss, but not acknowledging that it was their loss together. I know there are different schools of thoughts on that, but for me personally it helps to hear my husband say “OUR losses, or WE had a miscarriage,” it solidifies that we are in this together.

He has cried with me. I’m sure he’ll love me sharing that, but it helped more than I can say. So often men feel like they need to be the stronger person in their relationship, and that they’re not allowed to show emotions. After our 2nd loss, we cried together. It helped me to know that I wasn’t doing this alone, and that I wasn’t crazy for crying. It was incredibly sad, and we needed to be sad together.

He stopped trying to fix me. Notice I said “stopped” and not “doesn’t”… because at the beginning of our journey, he did try to fix me. When I would cry because someone else announced their pregnancy, he would try to rationalize with me and “fix” the situation. But what I truly needed to hear was “I’m sorry, I know that hurts.” And that’s exactly what he says now. Sometimes I’m going to be irrational, and have feelings that he doesn’t understand, but I just needed him to love me anyways and tell me he was there for me. And that’s what he does now.

He acknowledges our losses. He doesn’t pretend they didn’t happen. He talks about them. He shares with friends and co-workers, and makes it a normal part of conversation. Not because we want to make other people sad, but because those babies matter and they are a big part of our lives and our journey. They’re not to be dismissed or forgotten.

He listens. Yes, every spouse should always do this for each other and this seems like a no-brainer. But he truly listens. When I say I think I need X, that’s what he gives me. But ladies, this takes some very honest conversation on my part. If I don’t tell him what I need (and sometimes we just don’t know), then how can I expect him to know?

He protects me. He shields me from hurtful moments as much as he can, and tries to make sure I receive news at the right time and in the right way. Which has got to be a hard thing to do. But he also doesn’t hide things from me.

He has never once placed blame. As far as we can tell, all of our issues with infertility are from my body not doing what it’s supposed to. But never once has he made me feel like this was “my problem.” WE struggle with infertility and pregnancy loss. WE have egg quality issues. Each time we’ve gone in for another test, I know that he is secretly wishing they say the issue is him so that he can take some of that burden off of me.

He administers my injections. When we decided that we were moving forward with IVF, I stated “you’re going to have to give me my injections. I can’t do it.” I know he was terrified at first, but he helped mix the medicine, and he stuck that needle in my belly. The first couple of times I swear he had tears in his eyes because he didn’t want to hurt me. But we were in this TOGETHER, and he showed that each night. Although, he wasn’t sad when I decided to start doing some of the injections myself. ;)

He encourages me often to do some self-care. When I mentioned to him that I wanted to start blogging, his only response was “will it make you feel better?” And that has always been his question. If it will make me feel better, then he absolutely encourages me to do it. He reminds me often that my blog was meant as a form of therapy, and I should never feel like I HAVE to write. He encourages me to go to therapy. He is glad to hear when I have a girl’s night planned. He is always happy when I’m doing something that makes me happy. And the opposite applies – if going to a baby shower or event is going to hurt me, he encourages me to take care of myself first and gives me the encouragement to say no.

Bottom line – we’re in this TOGETHER. And he shows that each step of the way. He doesn’t have much experience with kids, and has never changed a diaper, but I don’t for a second doubt that he will be an amazing dad because of his compassion and love for me, and his commitment to growing our family. 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

After the Storm

I’ve stared at a blank page on my screen several times over the last few weeks, trying to find the words. Today I’m committed to sharing, no matter how those words come out. So please bear with me. Over the last few months, I’ve dealt with some serious anxiety. And I’ve avoided sharing. Because I had babies recently. And often the response is, “You’re a new mom, it’s normal to have anxiety.” And that’s true. It is normal to have “new mom” anxiety, and to have a new level of stress that comes with raising tiny humans. However, what I’ve been dealing with is so much more. I wake up in the middle of the night with a pit in my stomach and have to catch my breath. I often think about losing my husband or one of our babies, and I spiral into a pit of anxiety. Every time I walk up and down the stairs with a baby in my arms, I am anxious that they are suddenly going to throw themselves out of my arms and go over the railing. If Reid doesn’t do something for the babies the exact way I wou

Our Tiny Miracle - Kaylee June

Let me tell you about a little girl who has stolen our hearts, but almost never came to be. After three natural pregnancy losses and two rounds of IVF (in-vitro fertilization), we started our third round of IVF in the summer of 2018. Two of our pregnancy losses were due to chromosome issues so we did PGS (Pre-implantation Genetic Screening – checking the chromosomes of embryos for abnormalities) testing for our first two rounds of IVF. All (4) of those embryos were deemed “abnormal”… they either had an extra chromosome or they were missing one. And they were all issues that were not compatible with life. So going into round 3 we were looking for a “fresh start”. To our surprise, our doctor (who is amazing at thinking “outside of the box”) suggested we forgo the PGS testing for our 3 rd round. Each of our chromosome abnormalities, including two of the pregnancy losses, were all different abnormalities (it was a different chromosome missing or extra each time). So he thought it wa

Reid's health - Hospital stay #2

When I started writing this blog, it was dedicated to one topic – infertility and pregnancy loss. I guess that’s two topics, but very closely related. I did not think the type of miracle I would be impatiently waiting for would change. We now need a miracle for my husband, Reid. A month ago I shared that we were in the hospital and he had cholangitis. At that time, we knew that it meant his Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis (PSC) – an inflammation of the bile ducts in his liver – was progressing. But we weren’t sure by how much. So we had follow up appointments and procedures scheduled with his doctors. Next Tuesday he was set to go have a Spyglass procedure so we could see where he was. He had been feeling significantly better after his last hospital stay, and we thought things were looking much better. Early Wednesday morning he woke me around 3 a.m. with liver pains (yes, unfortunately he actually knows what liver pains feel like). We decided to come into the ER, given his last si