Not-So-Fertile Friday...on a Wednesday

I'm not much of a support group person, I'm definitely not a petitioner or marcher, and I'm not big on joining a cause and putting my story out for the world to hear.  But because of the profound impact infertility has had on my life, I think that a little effort to spread the word about infertility would help me feel like I'm doing my part to keep it from being such a silent disease.  Enter "Not-So-Fertile Friday."  If I really had my act together, I'd plan a post for each Friday.  But that's a big IF (no pun intended-in the infertility world the letters IF are used as the abbreviation for infertility).  And once I go back to work-I've been off the last two months with the kids-all bets are off.  This post is the one wherein I attempt not to get preachy, but I guess we'll see how successful I am at that.  Also the use of parentheses is rather abundant.  I'm not sure how I feel about that.  And I'll add a gratuitous photo of the kids, just because.  Oh, and of my vinyl yellow chair.  I love that chair, in all it's glorious ugliness.  It's the most comfortable chair we own.  I got it for $15 nine years ago at Salvation Army.  It's arms were black with dirt.  I'd pay $100 for it now.

Yes, they are still in their pajamas.  No, I do not feel a need to make them change.  They've been playing house all morning.  This is the first day this summer we have had no plans and have been able to just laze around the house.  They lay on the floor facing each other and use their imaginations.  I think it's cute. 

Procreation is one of the strongest, most basic instinctual urges a human being will ever experience.  Add in cultural mores (hello, we are Mormons) as well as other factors and you quickly begin to see just how strong the desire for children is in many people.  I knew nothing about infertility before it rudely interrupted my nicely-planned life (I'm talking 6 kids by 30, roughly.  I love kids!  Ask Cori and he would have said 4.)  Unlike heart disease or breast cancer, infertility is a hidden disease that most people are hestitant to talk about-including Cori and I!  The tests are invasive, expensive, and embarrassing.  It feels like you've caused it or done something wrong, or are just not good enough or worthy enough to be able to do something-have a baby-that lots of other (less-qualified!) people can do without thinking, or accidentally, or carelessly, or while actively preventing, etc.  You get the point.  I think.  Add in people who say seriously thoughtless and hurtful things and I'm even less likely to open my mouth to talk about it.  If you told someone that you had breast cancer, and their response was, "Well, that's just God's plan for you" would you continue talking about it?  Probably not.  Even once you've moved past denial and accepted that there is an issue, the cost of treatment is seriously prohibitive.  Insurance coverage is not mandated in Colorado, and only a small handful (15 to be exact) of states do require coverage.  Even some of the least invasive treatments can easily cost $2000, and that doesn't even include the testing that occurs before that.  The success rate for that treatment?  About 15% for ideal patients.  IVF, the most advanced science, has an average success rate of 30-35% for women under 35.  It costs an average of $15,000.  Most people begin with less invasive treatment and move towards IVF when they are unsuccessful.  When you compile all the costs, the amounts can be staggering.  And forget having more than one child (unless you're independently wealthy, which, ahem, I will be once I win the lotto tonight).  The average cost of domestic adoption tops $20,000 and fewer women choose to place their babies for adoption now than ever before.  Of course you could take out loans and use your savings, but what happens when treatment doesn't work?  It would seem like being able to have a child would be worth any sacrifice, but at some point couples with infertility are forced to reconcile the strong desire they have to build their family with reality.  It's basically impossible (at least it has been for Cori and I).  How much is your child worth to you?  Can't put a number on it, can you.  But infertile couples have to make that decision.  And it's not fun.  Depression in infertility patients occurs at about the same rate as in cancer patients.  That's significant.  And significantly overlooked.  As you're reading this, think about all the family and friends you know.  About 1 in 7 couples struggle with infertility, just over 14%, in any given year.  Add a couple's child-bearing years together and do the math...  If I were smarter I'd work out the probability, but that's beyond me.  But I do know it's a lot of people.  The average odds of a woman getting breast cancer in her lifetime are about 12%.  Which do you hear more about?  Of course, breast cancer kills many women each year, and I'm not suggesting that it shouldn't garner a lot of attention.  It should.  But so should other things.  Odds are, you know someone that infertility has impacted, and odds are, there are other couples you know that have struggled that haven't told anyone.