I was a year into trying to get pregnant with my husband. I had peed on a stick and it was negative again. When my husband came home from work, I broke the news. I had thought for sure it would be positive. My boobs swelled at the right time. I felt the little stabbing pain after what I thought was implantation. I could feel her. But I was wrong.
I cried into my husband’s chest and even though it was a Tuesday he suggested we go out. I didn’t want to at first but eventually I said, “Yes” and we ended up having a blast. We had some drinks at the bar (something I could not have done if the test was positive), landed a table at a very popular restaurant, and ended the night laughing and singing karaoke. We had a good date night, something we hadn’t had in a long time.
Your journey to baby may not be going how you imagined. You’ve had this idea, even a firm plan in your head of how things should go and when they should happen to have your happy ending.
What if when it feels like walls keep falling between you and your happy ending you let go and improvise what’s next – to help you get up, over, or around those walls?
But what if when it feels like walls keep falling between you and your happy ending you let go and improvise what’s next – to help you get up, over, or around those walls?
I had to because the universe played tricks with my “plan.” My husband and I had gotten married when I was 33. Already I was worried that I was starting to have a family too late in my life, that I was somehow behind.
That feeling was exacerbated month after month after trying to have a baby and failing. I was worried that I didn’t deserve a baby, that I had done something wrong in my past and I was paying for it by not getting the future I wanted.
I held all of these very negative beliefs about myself, my body, and my relationship with my husband. After about a year and a half of trying without medical intervention, my friends finally convinced me to go to a fertility specialist.
I was expecting some clear explanation of why it wasn’t happening, but I didn’t get one. We were both healthy. My husband’s sperm morphology was a little off but nothing major. We adhered to the directives – no hot showers, less alcohol, loose underwear – but nothing seemed to work.
We started IUI treatments. After two failed attempts, we decided we’d do one more and then, if we had to, to try IVF.
That third month, we were scheduled to be in New Orleans, my hometown, for Thanksgiving right when I was expected to be ovulating, so we had to take that month off. It wasn’t an easy trip. I had a falling out with my father – we were even disinvited from turkey dinner. I was very stressed.
I would never have thought that my body would be a nesting place for a new soul at that period in my life, but we got pregnant that month and we did not have to go through IVF. We were incredibly lucky.
Along the way on that maze-like journey before I became a mom, I was an actress and comedian. I studied improvisation at Second City in Hollywood and at Upright Citizens Brigade. There I learned the rules of improv, which have helped me in every facet of my life including on my path to motherhood.
In the improv world, we do something scary. We hop onto the stage with our scene partners under bright lights with the desire to entertain, to tell a great story in front of an audience hungry for laughs. The most insane part of that scenario: there is no plan, no script, no characters, no setting.
We create a world in the moment with a technique called “Yes, and” with our stage partners. We acknowledge and go with the flow of whatever absurdity is presented to us and make it work.
Someone might pretend that they’re a gas station attendant. We “Yes, and” them and pull our car up for service. They have an emotional meltdown because their cat peed on the sofa. We “Yes, and” our partners with the perfect crazy product to get that urine out. Then we keep re-imagining and realizing each “reality,” which creates a little more conflict on purpose, but ultimately yields what may be an unexpected but pleasurable outcome for us and the audience.
Of course, under normal circumstances, some of the surprising things our scene partners say and do would stop us in our tracks.
When difficult things happen, we may become shocked or stuck. We don’t know how to move forward. But consider the idea that resolving conflict almost always requires creativity, whether in an improv scene or when dealing with your doctor telling you more bad news.
Life is like that, too. When difficult things happen, we may become shocked or stuck. We don’t know how to move forward. But consider the idea that resolving conflict almost always requires creativity, whether in an improv scene or when dealing with your doctor telling you more bad news.
If you re-direct your thinking to the idea that conflict creates opportunity – you can reconsider options or try something new.
Also consider that in many areas of life it would be boring if everything went according to plan all the time. Conflict can sometimes become a gift, though, of course, in the moment, those painful experiences can be excruciating.
On your family-building journey, though not easy, consider a mindset redirect when you hit that wall and “Yes, and” it.
Maybe you get a negative pee stick. Yes, that sucks; it’s heartbreaking. You’re deeply disappointed for many reasons. For example, you’re such a planner, you had specifically tried to have a baby in March so that you’re the most pregnant in the winter and not hot, sticky, and fat with baby. But… it could end up being a gift. You could end up getting pregnant in October, and although it might mean that you’ll be big and sweaty at the “wrong” time, it might also mean that the due date perfectly aligns with your birthday and the two of you can share parties for the rest of your lives.
Of course, that is a mild example. But it illustrates the mindset shift to help you re-imagine the current circumstance and see the possible gift in the bad news.
Another example: You learn that you can’t use your own eggs and you must decide to use someone else eggs to make a baby with your partner. A way to “Yes, and” that scenario would be to realize that though you won’t have a baby with your same luscious eye lashes and great calf muscles, “Yes” you can have a baby anyway, “and” you can choose a donor that does not carry the breast cancer gene.” And so on.
Re-framing a negative into a positive is coming to an agreement with yourself that something is OK and you can move forward.
I used this way of thinking in my own journey. It did not come automatically; I had to consciously apply the method. When I repeatedly got negative pregnancy tests, I was devastated, but eventually got to a place of acceptance.
I said to myself: “‘Yes,” I am not pregnant “and” I am going to write about it. Every month that went by, I wrote more and eventually finished a novel about a couple struggling with fertility issues. In the novel, I was able to express the complex emotions I felt while trying to conceive and explore many absurdities that people dealing with infertility go through.
Looking back, if I had gotten pregnant when I originally wanted to, I wouldn’t have had the time or desire to finish my first novel and then later on my second – I would have been fully baby consumed. I might still have two toddlers, but no career, no place to put the pent-up emotions I now have during parenting.
By “Yes, anding” my experience, I was able to redirect my frustrations, confusion, and pain into my writing. I used my comedy background to tease out any humor from my difficult circumstances, imagining that others who read my work would need some relief, too.
The improv mindset could help you in the short-term with the infertility maze, and in the long-term as you aim for balance in your life.
For you, the improv mindset could help you in the short-term with the infertility maze, and in the long-term as you aim for balance in your life.
You might not pursue writing, but while you strive for a family, perhaps you also pursue a career opportunity or focus on your relationship, or apply your energy and talent to painting, cooking, or a vegetable gardening.
Whatever helps you re-direct, say “Yes” to yourself “and” accept where you are currently, then pivot towards other interests that fulfill you, and take some of the pressure off yourself.
Though an infertility journey may still require some rigorous planning and rule-following – of ovulation schedules, shots, appointments, procedures, diet and lifestyle changes – we can also breathe, improvise, and find ways to “Yes, and” the obstacles, not let them hold us back from having a family.
Contributor
Marian Bruno
Marian Bruno is a novelist and the author of the comedic novel The Exception, which explores a new twist on coping with infertility. She studied at the Second City Conservatory and Upright Citizens Brigade theaters, performed stand up at The Comedy Store, and created her own one-woman show and several web series. She lives in Dallas with her husband and their two children.
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