FROM THE ARCHIVES: for Same-Sex Couples on Their Fertility Journey.

Originally published May, 2023.

The opinion’s in this article are my own. Couple’s of all identities, including heterosexual couples, will find fertility stressful. This article focuses on same-sex relationships and single parents navigating the system.

On my second date with my now fiancé, I was thirty one years of age. I had already dated a string of absolute plonks, thus shifted my focus to eating Arnott’s Cheds and raising my then six year old son (a Maltese-Shitzu named Nash).

I realised out of nowhere I had become a fully formed adult, and finally felt comfortable with my desire to settle down. I pondered what values I wanted in a relationship moving forward. Until that point none of my prior relationships held any respect, and I was over the chaos. It turned out when I finally met my partner, she had also been reflecting on the specific things she wanted in a woman. Who would be the Diane Keaton to her ultimate Pantsuit of emotions?

Di Keats.

Date number two might seem like a very lesbian amount of time to talk about whether or not we wanted kids, but I reckon it’s just sensible. If one person is on that page and another isn’t, you might be left with an emotional bunion waiting to pop.

I remember on that second date considering what it would be like to make a baby one day. I had noticed many years prior that I didn’t have a willy, and that I was entirely attracted to women. Alas, in all future relationships there would be no baby making missile. Two years later, semi-settled into our relationship, we began the fertility process. Our clinic used only the most supreme sperm donors. ‘The Ian Thorpe of sperm’ one IUI nurse told us. This sperm was so special that it was from the minuscule 1% of donor applicants that actually had their wad forwarded on for potential fertility treatments. I was sure that we’d have a kid in a jiffy. Alas, after two IUI attempts we were $10,000 down, with no baby in sight. It was time for a break. Not only a break due to the financial pressures, but a total wellbeing break. For my partner, for myself and the relationship.

I noticed I was becoming increasingly angry. Anger is the typical limbic hijack for me when anything is out of my control (most of life is out of our control, thus my anger needs constant tending). As I wrote in my journal and woe’d all over the place, I discovered that the anger was protecting a deep shame. I realised, it was so easy for so many dickheads to have babies. The bulk of people in my life had kids for the right reasons, with the intention of loving and guiding them. Yet, I also knew of people who resented their bubbas from the moment they fell pregnant, or used them as bandaids to heal relational wounds of their own. Here I was a lesbian, self-parented for much of my life, ready and willing to nurture a child; yet it felt like the universe simply said “Nope”.

My internalised homophobia resurfaced instantly. All of the Christians with their giant books were right. Was this God’s punishment for throwing my handbag in the river? A thought struck me that impacted many people journeying through fertility, whether single women, heterosexual, same sex couples - any human really. “I think there’s something wrong with me”. The ongoing sense of ‘not enough’ seems to be a common negative bias that lives within the human psyche. A typical response to navigating ongoing social comparison. For same sex couples, sometimes this internalised shame coupled with fertility woes can induce a chronic stress response, which in turn, can impact the wellbeing of the potential embryo (pre-baby).

“Brianna this article is depresso” I hear you muttering over a Tetley.

Never fear fam.

Forthcoming child.

Thanks to the team at our IVF clinic, my partner is now many months pregnant. We are pretty bloody chuffed to finally get to this point after multiple stress poos from the ongoing ambivalent grief. I was lucky enough that along the way I kept a log of my emotions, noticing some of the challenges that were more regular.

Thus -

Tip #1 - Other people’s insecurities shan’t be personalised.

Fertility talk can create discomfort for people. There’s grief involved (us westerners typically struggle with this) and if you’re a single woman or same sex couple you might notice other people squirm a little when you share your pain. Sometimes I reckon heterosexuals even have a displaced guilt for being ‘aligned with the norm’, never being able to truly empathise with the experience of what our Government not long ago referred to as ‘social infertility’. Sometimes that subconscious journey can result in statements such as, “Oh, at least you could sleep with a man if you wanted to” (YES THIS WAS ACTUALLY SAID TO ME). Anyone who jumps to the quick fix or insensitive retorts likely feels insecure. Or maybe they’re just ignorant dickheads. Whatever the reason, many of us have blind spots around our own inner discomforts. Those of us in the thick of fertility do not need to personalise other peoples discomforts. You could try letting the person know that you don’t need a fix, simply someone to listen. You can also empower yourself by becoming super selective about your inner circle, spending time with only the most compassionate people in your life.

Who hears you without judgement? Who do you trust? Sometimes these people aren’t your family, which is disappointing but also okay. Our close friends are family by design. There are people I let in, and people I refuse to talk about fertility with; not because they are bad people, they just aren’t the best at holding space. Now is not the time to waste energy between treatment cycles on educating others.

Tip #2 Honour the fact that you are already a parent.

The journey of parenthood starts when your fertility treatment starts. A deep worry for this multicellular organism that’s underpinned by pure parental love. If you are doing IUI, this connection can be just as real, especially as you deeply nurture your body in the days following. You might notice that you are suddenly in love. You’re in love with the process, the potential, the little one you are trying to protect. With love comes grief, and grief is a deep respect to the little one you have lost and the little one you profoundly want.

Bonus tips for Allies. Sometimes it is bloody confusing being an ally. Here are some things to be mindful of when yarning with other communities going through fertility.

1) You can empathise with someone’s feeling, without understanding the content. For example ‘My friend seems shattered that she’s not pregnant yet. I don’t care about kids, but I know what it’s like to feel shattered. I can sit with her in this’.

2) Be mindful of your own belief system and how that might impact others. A lot of people believe children must have a mother and/or father, not same-sex parents. Some people even believe that only genetics predict the outcome of a child’s behaviour and personality (nature works in tandem with nurture). There is nothing inherently wrong with your personal beliefs, providing you are not disrespectfully projecting those views onto others. I own a few beliefs that I know would hurt a couple of people in my life, therefore I am mindful not to toss them around carelessly.

Beliefs and values are different. I believe that we can engage in a relationship that has aligned values, and on occasion, misaligned beliefs. For example, I dont relate to Christianity, yet I have very dear christian friends in my life; who vice versa likely think that the way I sage my house every second week is a bit tweaky. Beliefs are founded within upbringing, culture, generational context and sometimes even internal fears. Single people and same sex attracted couples who are creating diverse families already face societal stigma and will continue to for the rest of their lives.

For deep reflective practice, allies might ask themselves, ‘When and how did I form [X] belief?’ These questions can offer up a sense of your own identity, while fostering genuine support for marginalised communities as they sort the process of creating their families.

Kia Kaha Fam

xx bree