Privacy or Isolation?

I've been thinking a lot lately about how open I've been with those close to me about our fertility journey. If we were a straight couple starting the "traditional" way, I probably wouldn't be sharing so much. I can't imagine that I'd say, "Okay, here goes - we're going to start trying this month!" Not to anybody, probably, or maybe just to two or three of my closest (mom, sister, best friend). And because that's the more conventional path to parenthood, and people requiring fertility intervention often don't talk about it much because they're stressed, frustrated, and anxious by that point, the "norm" is silence. "Privacy." "Self-protection."

But for us, this involves so much, and so much that by necessity invites in other people we barely know. Once you have your feet up in stirrups four times in two months for three different people (family GYN, fertility doctor, and radiologist), once you've had to consult others in similar situations to get advice, you've already kind of thrown modesty to the wind. And then you have to decide whether you want to go through such an intense and time-consuming process with only the support of these near-strangers, or whether you want to take the emotional risk of bringing in people who matter to you.

I've chosen to share this with people close to me. It's quite simple - I need support. I value having some friends and family who are ridiculously excited for us and cheering us on, waiting happily for good news. If all goes well, we'll have been able to celebrate our baby since before it was even an embryo. How beautiful is that? And if we end up on a long, frustrating, disappointing journey, these friends and family will be the same ones there for me. And if we experience the euphoria of a successful conception with a tragic ending, there will be shoulders for me to cry on. That's a risk I'm willing to take.

Making myself vulnerable fosters connection. If I end up hurting, I don't want to hurt alone. And if I end up with earth-shattering joy, I don't want to have to hide my happiness. The traditional second-trimester announcement doesn't fit who I am. Of course that will be the case for letting the world know - coworkers, acquaintances, somewhat distant relatives. But for those very important in my life, I need them alongside me in my journey. I'm okay with having a friend ask, "So?? How did that last appointment go?" or "What's the next step?" In fact, the idea of having that emotional accessibility makes me feel safe, loved, and secure. It makes me feel like we will be okay wherever this journey takes us, because we are not in it alone.