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| Though I (Cindy) wrote most of the chapters in my book, this particular chapter was beyond my scope. My husband, Edward, wrote this chapter from his own perspective and research on infertility. | |
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Survivor Quote: I think men are just as excited to start families as women are, but they aren’t as emotional in the process. In the same manner, men simply aren’t as emotional in their coping as they are rational in their coping. Therefore, when the situation was becoming clear that we did indeed have an infertility issue, my reaction was more one of what can I do to support Angela. The actual emotions were a sense of failure, inadequacy, and being somewhat less than a man. However, that rational side of being a man took over and simply steered my focus toward solving the problem. (Jim) | |
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Five years. Our goal was to be married five years and then start a family. We succeeded in waiting a little more than five years, then ended up waiting five more before the adoption of our son, Ryan.
Those
first five years were filled with normal, everyday, married couple
occurrences: work, church, visiting parents, celebrating birthdays,
holidays, anniversaries, and special vacations just for the two of us.
Then came the time when both Cindy and I felt we were ready to start a
family. That isn’t to say that I leapt into this with abandon. I had to
move glacially into being ready to become a father. Since my preparation
and my thinking were slow to come around, once I did reach the feeling
that it was okay to start a family, I expected it to happen quickly. |
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| What men experience during infertility is almost always considered secondary to anything that women encounter. And like Jim said above, men generally assume the role of supporting and encouraging their wives, which is certainly needed. But this chapter will explore much more than that. Men who lock horns with infertility have battles of their own, battles which demand more from them than society gives them credit for enduring. | ||
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Societal expectations of men Seattle has the reputation of being a place where the yearly rainfall is substantial. Movies, television, and magazines always mention Seattle’s rainy environment. But I’ve visited Seattle on business numerous times, and each visit has been surprisingly sunny. Sure, it rained some during my week-long stays, but overall, the weather was beautiful, not anywhere near the gloom and doom advertised. I jokingly said to my Seattle friends that this rumor must be their way of keeping tourists and potential residents away. They perpetuate the soggy tale just to keep the area to themselves. |
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Why do we do this as men? Carol Staudacher, in Men & Grief, writes about the cultural expectations of men in today’s society. Men are expected to:
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Be in control. On the other hand, she observes that our society expects a man not to:
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Lose control over a situation, or
lose control of himself.
These
opinions pervade our cultural psyche. While there’s been some loosening of
these expectations in recent times, overall they remain a hard fact, and
men are pressured to live up to these statements. Anyone “caught” not
doing so is considered less of a man or out of control. Men are very good at keeping their emotions suppressed and holding them inside, remaining silent about their grief. We learn how to grieve alone. I know a young man whose father died unexpectedly and one of the ways he kept his emotions out of the public eye was to go to his father’s grave alone, never telling anyone that this was how he chose to process his grief. His extended family talked often about their absent loved one, so the topic wasn’t off limits. But he wasn’t comfortable being part of group grief. As men, we also process our emotions through activity. Sports give us a safe outlet for shouting at a bad referee call or celebrating a last-second win, whereas venting to God is seen as heresy. We may find refuge at work, where we stay busy with problems and projects that require a different category of emotions, not the painfully personal feelings that swamp our home life. We feel the need to retain some degree of control in most matters, so we find ways to take action physically or legally. We’re masters at masking our fears. Typically most men will never admit to being afraid of anything. We may be scared out of our minds, but to admit such would be seen as a sign of weakness. Survivor's Quote: My husband never did voice his feelings to me about my lack of conceiving. He keeps to himself about private matters, like many men do. (Debbie) Our culture ingrains upon our minds and personalities that boys and men are supposed to be strong. I can’t begin to count the number of dramas I’ve seen that portraying a young boy being told, “You’re the man of the house now. Be strong for your mother.” Now, as husbands, we’re tasked with supporting our wives during this time, not ourselves. When Cindy was dealing with her grief and loss in the midst of these years, I was feeling my own sense of anguish, yet I felt the pressure to try to comfort her during this time. I felt couldn’t express my feelings to her since I’m the comforter here, right? Yes, we are comforters for our wives, but I believe there is a need for both—being the comforter and being comforted ourselves. Other topics covered in this chapter:
Supporting your wife vs. supporting yourself
Lack of
male kinship
How to
begin talking about your feelings
Naming
and identifying your emotions
Loss of
dreams for fatherhood And you have hopes and dreams for your daughter as well. Reading her favorite story to her. Teaching her how to ride a bike and hoping beyond hope she doesn’t hurt herself when she falls in the learning process. Watching her first music recital. Terrorizing her first suitor when he comes to pick her up for a date. Buying her that first evening dress. A hopeful father’s countless dreams for his daughter are dashed in the midst of infertility struggles. Men, as well as women, have hopes for their future children….
Anguish: Where’s the nursery? We just had no idea when that might be. When do you plan and decorate a nursery with furnishings if there’s no expected due date? To me, this room symbolized the tangible evidence that we were without child….
Fear:
Will my name die out with me? At the time I could not have foreseen the infertility struggle that Cindy and I would go through. As our failure to conceive repeated itself attempt after attempt, my fear escalated surrounding the thought about me dying as the last Dake in my family tree. It surprised me how much I was affected by the possibility that my surname would die out with me….
Is
something wrong with me?
Protecting your wife from pain and suffering
A
necessary evil: Sperm samples |
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Enduring waiting rooms and
embarrassing silences There is nothing worse to me than having to discuss very intimate topics with complete strangers. Sometimes it’s easier because you may never see a nurse or an LVN again, but these never-see-you-again people are rare in the field of infertility. The medical personnel at the clinic quickly come to know you as a couple, but in the initial meeting, typically, these people are complete strangers. It seems not to faze them when they start asking very confidential questions and discussing private acts and situations…. |
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Expressing your anger In the movie Shadowlands, the character of C.S. Lewis said, “I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God. It changes me.” My journey of grief and pain has taught me a number of things, but most importantly, it has taught me that prayer is important….
A quest
for answers
A
message for wives
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