by Marcus

People rarely hear about infertility from the perspective of a man. Within the infertility community, all of the support groups, social media, and other forums are dominated by women. There is a reason for this. Men and women are different. Men and women process, grieve, emote, and communicate differently. But this does not imply that the men involved are not struggling in their own way.

I can really only speak for myself here, and my perspective is somewhat unique. I am an OBGYN. In my everyday job I am part of the joys and sorrows of pregnancy and childbearing, including working with couples who are trying to get pregnant. Therefore, fertility is something I think about every single day. But I am not an OBGYN at home. I am just a husband. And I am now a father.

When Betsy and I got married, I had just finished medical school and was about to start a residency in OBGYN. I really knew nothing about infertility other than the science. I was very excited to be married, and I was ready to have kids whenever Betsy decided (this is how things work in my house). I always wanted to be a father. I liked thinking about my future as a tee ball coach, or taking my kids on family vacations. Betsy was a perfect match for me, as I knew from the moment I met her that she would be a fantastic mother. We wanted the same things in life.

When we did start trying to have kids, I have to say, I was not all that surprised when we ran into problems. I had always had this weird thought in the back of my brain that I wouldn’t be able to have kids. Why? I have no idea. Young men shouldn’t have that thought. It didn’t happen right away.  I knew that it can take awhile to get pregnant. “Relax. No big deal. It’s just taking awhile”. That’s what I would tell myself. Then it started to wear on us. Each month was traumatic. Betsy wore her emotions differently than me. I tried to stay strong and optimistic. I tried to support her. I tried. I really tried. I don’t think I did a very good job.

As more time passed I had no clue what to do. I was stressed. How do I support her? How do I be there for her when I have to work all the time (I was in residency…)? How do we maintain our identity as a couple? How do I feel about all this? I had really pushed my own feelings aside, trying to be the light of positivity and strength and completely failed to let myself feel anything at all.

Then we did more testing and got some answers. Suddenly everything exploded for me personally. Now I felt the emotions. My initial thought was that since I could not give Betsy the one thing she has always wanted, she would leave me.  Obviously, this was irrational, and this thought did not last long, but it was a part of my individual struggle. I was done trying to the big, strong man trying to comfort her. I was feeling the emotions right there with her.  It was right around this time that we really started talking to each other again. I think we started to understand each others pain as individuals, which helped us grieve together.  This helped us to heal together. We started growing stronger. Together.

What I learned is that infertility is not one persons problem. Women struggle. Men struggle. That struggle looks different from the outside. But the burden is still carried together. The grief is experienced together. It has to be in order to allow room for healing. Healing individually. Healing as a couple. And you never really heal completely. But it can get easier.