I am a naturally quiet and reserved person; prone to keeping my own counsel and not accustomed to asking for help. I get these traits from my introverted parents. They never ask for help, thinking that it makes them look weak. My mother’s cancer was most likely there for a while, but she chose to not say anything for fear of looking weak or foolish.
This is all conjecture, of course. God forbid this would ever be told me, their only daughter. But I digress.
So with this example in front of me, I can’t help but be secretive myself. Now, mind you, I’m not as secretive as they are and I am comfortable asking for help or making myself look foolish.
I am foolish on a constant and daily basis. It’s part of my M.O.
But there are some things that I am privy to that I will never acknowledge.
Yesterday, as I was coming out of my RE office, I ran into a couple that I never ever thought would be entering. They didn’t see me and I made sure to get the hell out of there as fast as I can. I have to remind myself that it’s not my place to tell their tale. I won’t out them or their apparent struggles. But it shook me to my core.
Keep in mind, I am not….fond of these people. They are barely my friends even though I have known them since I arrived in the city…well, I’ve known one of them since I came here. One of their attitudes turns me off and the other, well, I don’t know the other well enough to form an opinion.
It was, however, a damn good reminder that fertility struggles don’t discriminate and that I am pretty damn thankful that I get to choose if and when I have a child. Well, that there are treatments for those who want children but need a little extra help from science to achieve those dreams.
But I digress.
Their secret will remain with me. I wish them well.
Also yesterday, I got tired of keeping my fertility struggles a secret. When I went to talk to my boss, one of the higher ups was also there. She was about to excuse herself, sensing the nature of the matter, but I said not giving a fuck anymore,
It’s okay. I’m damn tired of having to keep this secret.
And so I told her.
I went on for several minutes the process I go through to make sure my body creates eggs and what happens after. She had questions, but she and my boss are very supportive.
My coworker (or co-irker as one of my friends puts them) signed for my big box of meds when I was unexpected sick. I had the company send it to work because hell, I’m always here.
Except for those rare days when I am not.
She had to open the package and put one of the medications in the fridge because that’s what needed to happen. This co-irker is naturally nebby and I thought I was going to have to face a barrage of questions when I returned the following day.
But she surprised me. And I’m grateful for it. I still don’t like her, but my level of respect for her is higher.
I won’t be screaming about my struggles anytime soon, that’s just not me, but I will tell my story if I’m asked.
I’m just so tired of keeping secrets sometimes.