I’m going through IVF and I don’t want to keep it a secret.
Social convention dictates a code of silence when it comes to IVF. Women cover up or lie about the bruises and needle marks on their arms from all the blood tests.
When we cancel on our friends at the last minute because we have to dash off to the IVF clinic, we feel compelled to make up an excuse. And when someone asks why we’re looking so anxious/stressed/so enraged you want to rip their arms and legs off, we dare not tell them the truth.
As an IVF veteran, I’m well versed in the ways of IVF deception. But this time, I’ve decided not to hide it. While I’m not the kind to blab to everyone up to and including the guy who just called from Optus to ask if I want to switch my phone and broadband plan, when people ask what I’ve been up to, I tell them.
And, I have to say, my new strategy of openness isn’t going as well as I thought it might.
Mostly when I tell someone that my husband and I are doing IVF, they look at me as if I’m the sort of person who broadcasts the gory details about her sex life (positions, number of orgasms and size of partner’s schlong) to her yoga class. Which I’m not. For starters, I don’t even do yoga.