Marriage disconnected
Dave and I had experienced our share of quarrels over our years together, but nothing would test the strength of our bond more than our experience with infertility. Before this experience, our worst argument had occurred the day we returned from our honeymoon, after the airline lost my luggage. My cats were in a boarding facility that closed at 7 p.m., and we were still standing in the airline’s lost luggage department at 6:30.
I turned to Dave and said, “We need to get out of here so we can pick up my cats before the kennel closes.”
He said, “It’s OK if they have to spend one more night there; they’re fine where they are. We need to deal with your luggage first.”
I was stunned. I couldn’t believe this man I had just married, and with whom I had just spent a wonderful week, lacked such compassion. For about a week, I barely spoke to Dave, as it took a while to get over his inconsideration toward me and my cats.
As we started on our journey through infertility, I thought we would be able to handle this challenge together, as a team. How very wrong I was. We might have been on different planets as far as the importance each of us placed on having children to fulfill our lives. When we were trying to conceive naturally, Dave was excited about the prospect of fatherhood. His desire to have children seemed to dissipate, however, when natural conception no longer appeared possible. He believed that if we had a good marriage now, we would continue to be happy, with or without children.
Because of our differing perspectives about the importance of becoming parents, we couldn’t agree about how far to proceed with the infertility testing, treatments, or financial commitment. Infertility was a constant topic of conversation, and we fought a lot. I would yell at Dave, and he would stare at me and remain silent. The silence just pissed me off. I wanted him to tell me how he felt. I wanted him to give in and tell me we’d start infertility treatments and spend whatever it took to have a child. He wanted me to stop being angry with him.
When I told Dave I planned to seek counseling to help me deal with our infertility, he asked me why he couldn’t help me get through it. I explained that there were things I needed to say that I couldn’t say to him. He did not understand why I needed a “safe” place outside of our marriage to vent my frustrations and sadness. For me, it was a matter of saving our marriage, so I needed to find an impartial ear and get the help I needed to cope.
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