Secrets...Suicide

A few days ago, I shared with a few people my blog to give them an insight to my struggle and perhaps give a voice to this silent suffering.  Many young women and couples are plagued with infertility issues but seldom share....often because it is such a raw and emotionally taxing process and sharing is just another way to relive the horror.  But mainly because it's a taboo in most cultures....the concept of infertility is misunderstood by most, and many draw inaccurate conclusions as to the reasons -- a curse? a result of a mishap in one's adolescent years? side effects of smoking? drinking? etc.  ALL of those couldn't be further from the truth...
The stigma is unbearable for many, so they end up suffering in silence.

Soon after sharing it, I began receiving a ton of private messages from friends.  Some had no idea my struggles with cancer and chemo 7 years ago and felt left out.  Some appreciated the detailed posts as they had no idea how intense the process was....although they may have known someone who went through the process.  Others wanted to share their personal experience with IVF, that until now, they've told no one (besides close family members, if that).  I was inspired.  Many of the stories were from young African American women in my age group -- to think infertility issues were so rare.

Hey! I hope all is well! I just wanted to reach out to you because I came across your blog link as I was scrolling through Facebook which I rarely do anymore and I see what you're going through and I totally understand and am thinking of you and praying for all the way. I've been through IVF myself which hardly anyone knows but if you ever need support through the process you can feel free to reach out to me. I've done it all seems like, 2 IUIs, 2 fresh IVF, and one frozen IVF cycle so trust me...I know exactly what it's like to be a human pin cushion.

She and I chatted for days on end swapping stories and sharing our experiences.  She's a great girl with a gentle soul, and I wish her the best in her future sessions.   Perhaps we'll have back-to-back baby showers ;)

My dear, you are brave and amazing for sharing your journey. Unlike you, I couldn't go through the fertility process. On January 7th at the age of 32--I had a hysterectomy. My journey is not yours but I say all of this to say--keep fighting for the sisters who can't--that includes me! I have an essay that I have been working on for a while now--maybe one day, when it's all said and done, I will share. Keep fighting honey! You both can do this together. Sending love and light to you and your husband.

This woman is strong and amazing and courageous!  She shared details of her decision with me and we commiserated.  She shared her sorrow and how many tears she shed before finally making the decision.  She's no longer plagued with the pain of bleeding daily...and is much better off.

Hey honey, I wanted to reach out to you after I read your IVF post. I am sorry...I didn't know you had cancer. But hey, I did IVF. No one knows. Not my mom, not my sister....just you now. I just didn't want anyone to judge my husband. I needed to preserve his image.

My heart breaks at the thought of living this horror alone.  It's taxing on one's mental state and on a marriage...not having anyone to confide in has to be that much tougher.  Their beautiful baby just turned one :)

 So the other day, I was doing my normal scrolling and came across your post. I wanted to say I admire your courage to share from a very deep place. It takes real strength as a woman, even as a black woman to share from a private place. That's amazing. You've inspired me to push through the daily stressors in life. To be honest, I have been in very low points in life and the other day, I was having a 'what am I here for' moment. You single-handedly talked me off the edge. Your story made me realize there's nothing that can stop your stride. Again, thank you for sharing....you have no idea how you've saved me.

.... and THAT took the cake!
I received many more inspiring stories and messages and encouragements.  Thanks to all the women who were brave enough to share their stories with me.  Perhaps we can slowly chip away at the stigma and begin building a stronger community and a support system for this silent killer.