How Men & Women Grieve Differently

Those of you who have experienced the pain of infertility may have noticed that the emotions you are experiencing may not be the same, or at least not happening the same way at the same time as your partner. Perhaps it seems to you that your partner doesn’t care, or doesn’t understand, or is never on the same page as you. Maybe you feel like you are dealing with all of this by yourself because he just doesn’t seem to be as affected by it as you are. But it may just be that he is processing his pain in his own way, which is different from yours. And he may be just as befuddled by your reactions to the experiences of infertility as you are by his.

It is widely known that men and women grieve differently. While a couple may be grieving over the pain of infertility, it is important to remember that no two people grieve in the same way, or at the same pace. In addition to social cues and family traditions, men and women may find an extra challenge in understanding the grief experienced and expressed by the other gender, even while grieving together over the same thing. Rather than getting angry about our differences, we might try to learn to accept them as a part of the grieving process and support each other as we move toward our shared goal of healing.

The following is from a blog about greif in general, and specifically a post about the differences between how men and women process grief.  The original post is written about grief over the loss of a loved one, but I was struck by how applicable the descriptions were to what B & I have experienced while struggling through years of infertility.  My re-posing this is meant not only to help each gender in a hetero-sexual infertile relationship understand how the other gender may be processing their pain, but also to offer some tips on how support the your partner through it all. 

If you are the man, you may want to take away her hurt and make her feel better, most often by distraction or trying to lighten her mood. In an attempt to remove her pain, you may however be denying her the ability to express her feelings and emotions in a safe way. Women need to talk and express how they feel; it is natural to them, it is what they do. Remember, you don’t have to solve anything. It can also be excruciatingly uncomfortable to be with your partner who is crying and your natural response may be to try and deflect this in some way. This action may serve also, to protect yourself from your own vulnerabilities in relation to the expression of such a strong emotion. She is processing grief in her own way, as a woman.

If you are the woman, you may want him to talk about his feelings and wonder why he doesn’t even seem to care or shed a tear. You might be amazed that he wants to make love to you at a time when it is the last thing on your mind or spend hours out in the shed, keeping as busy as possible. Men generally process and respond to their grief very privately and actively, they like to keep busy. You may not see the occasions where they do cry just like you do, they feel the pain just as much, but express it in different ways – they still hurt. You may notice that he is flying off the handle at the slightest thing or muttering and swearing at the lawnmower that wont ‘go’ – men are more likely to be angry when they are grieving. As women that may be an uncomfortable emotion to witness. He is processing grief in his own way, as a man.

Whichever way you deal with grief, try to nurture and support each other during such an extremely difficult time:

♥ Be near – in physical and emotional closeness, sexual or otherwise

♥ Refrain from offering solutions or becoming judgmental

♥ Listen without interrupting

♥ A silent comforting hug heals much

♥ Remember significant difficult days – birthdays, anniversaries

♥ Understand that grief never ends, the individual person simply adapts over time

♥ Invest in your relationship – take the time for what’s important

♥ Value talking

♥ Love generously

The 5 Stages of Infertility Grief

We've all heard of the five stages of grief.  Just as with any other grieving process the progression of infertility emotions clearly has stages as well. 

The following examples of things infertile couples might think, say, or experience while processing the pain of infertility were originally featured in a blogpost for Connecticut Working Mom's.

I think most infertile women will be able to relate to several of the statements below.  I think I fluctuate from one phase to another and back again, because while the pain of loss may dull over time, the pain of infertility never goes away.  We have monthly reminders, facebook updates, shower invitations, and birth announcements to constantly remind us and open up new wounds.  I also believe that these are not chronological, I think we can float between any of these stages at any time, and that doesn't mean we are regressing, it just means we are normal.  

Denial

“We must have just gotten the timing wrong. Again.”

“Male factor infertility, you say? Hon, we’re switching you out of boxer briefs into boxers. That must be the easy fix. Bonus points if you want to go commando.”

“Something must be wrong with these pee sticks, I can’t ever seem to get the second line to show up.”

Anger

(see also: jealousy, irrational behavior, selfishness)

“Whaddya mean she’s pregnant, again?!”

“Everyone around me is pregnant. It must have been so easy for them. Must be nice.”

“They sent me the defective pee sticks again, these are OBVIOUSLY BROKEN!”

Bargaining

“I’d give anything to be pregnant.”

“If only we had started sooner, I’d probably have a baby by now.”

“Why can’t we just skip all this testing and get right to the IVF? We know that’s what we’ll need anyways.”

“Hello, Amazon.com? Yes, if you could send me another batch of pee sticks, the ones that work this time, I’ll take back that nasty review I wrote last year when I tried to order on Christmas Eve in time for Christmas. I know you have deadlines for a reason. Besides, you have the cheapest pee stick prices…”

Depression

“Nothing is going right. I’ll never be pregnant at this rate.”

“My 18-year-old employee was happy when her pregnancy test was negative. It’s all I can do to keep from sobbing each time I get a negative result.”

“Those pee stick manufacturers obviously don’t want me to have kids.”

Acceptance

“It is what it is. We need to just keep going with the tests to give us the best outcome when the time comes.”

“We’re not the only ones going through this. So many other couples have struggled with infertility, whether we know it or not. There’s a lot of support out there from places we never imagined we’d find it.”

“Maybe I’ll stop peeing on a stick for a while.” 

As I think back, I can see that during the the year and a half that B & I were not using contraceptives but were not actually TTC, we were in denial.  We just kept thinking we were "lucky."  Even the first six months that we were TTC, we just figured we had the timing wrong, or I needed to stop drinking caffeine, or B needed to quit sitting in hottubs.

I kind of think I moved from that phase to bargaining.  We wanted to fast-track to IVF, I started researching cheaper ART treatments in other countries and egg-donation/funded IVF arrangements.  I became vegan and tried to lose weight so I'd have the BMI required for many of these programs.  I was trying to figure out any way possible to avoid being infertile.  I wanted to make a deal so I could outsmart infertility and move onto my baby dreams.

Once I realized I couldn't bargain my way out of this situation, I admit that I moved into anger.  Anger at everyone who is pregnant, including celebrities, strangers, friends, family, everyone.

I think I fluctuate between anger, depression, and acceptance now, though acceptance is usually rather fleeting.  I'll briefly come to some idea or resolution that sounds a lot like acceptance and feel better for a night, a few days, maybe even a week or two, and then something will trigger a return of anger or depression.  It's unpredictable.  Sometimes I learn new things that push me briefly back into bargaining again too.  Often that ends either in acceptance or depression.  It's a never ending random cycle.

My hope is that this post will show women that is perfectly normal to feel the way we do about infertility.  We are not crazy, irrational, or over-emotional.  We are grieving, and that is normal, and it should be expected... and accepted by those around you--pun intended ;)

Understanding the Grief of Infertility

Chances are, you know someone who is struggling with infertility. More than seven million people in the United States experience infertility.  This figure represents 12% of women of childbearing age, and one in eight couples. Yet, as a society, we are extremely uninformed about how to provide emotional support for our loved ones during this painful time.  

Perhaps attempting to explain the pain that an infertile couple experiences can help others to understand what their infertile friends and family members are going through.  Understanding the pain of others can foster empathy, and true empathy can create the environment necessary to sincerely support other people.  Therefore, let us try to explain the pain of infertility to others so that they might be better equipped to support us through our grief.

As the RESOLVE website explains, "infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief.  When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.

The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry.  Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal."

I found an older blog post on WorldofWinks.wordpress.com where the author took information a friend had sent her about grief, and she adapted it to be perfectly applicable to infertility.  I think it might help my friends and family to understand how I feel and what they can do to help me when I am struggling or having a bad day... and maybe it will help them not to say the wrong thing when I'm happy & having a good day too :)

Things I Wish I Could Tell People About Grieving Infertility or Just Grieving

1. I wish you would not be afraid to speak to me about what is going on in my life, and to ask what you can do to help.
2. If I cry or get emotional when we talk about them, I wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. The fact that I have suffered has caused my tears. You have allowed me to cry, and I thank you. Crying and emotional outbursts are healing.
3. I wish you wouldn’t pretend that nothing is happening to me, because it is a large part of my life. I need my friends and family by my side.
4. I will have emotional highs and lows, ups and downs. I wish you wouldn’t think that if I have a good day, my grief is over, or that if I have a bad day, I need psychiatric counseling.
5. Grieving and what I’m going through is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me.
6. I wish you knew that all of the “crazy” grief reactions I am having are in fact very normal. Depression, anger, frustration, hopelessness, and questioning of values and beliefs are to be expected during and following what is happening to me.
7. I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over if and when I appear to be smiling or happy.
8. I wish you would understand the physical reactions to grief. I may gain weight or lose weight…sleep all the time or not at all…want to surround myself with business or be all alone, all of which may be related to my grief.
9. A birthday, anniversaries of big days, holidays, and the day I found out, are all terrible times for me. I wish you could tell me that you are thinking about me, and if I get quite withdrawn, just know I am doing my best to cope. Please don’t try to coerce me into being cheerful or tell me that it will be better soon.
10. It is normal and good that most of us re-examine our faith, values, and beliefs throughout this journey. We will question things we have been taught all our lives, and hopefully come to some new understandings to include those with God. I wish you would let me tangle with my religion, opinions, and beliefs without making me feel guilty.
11. I wish you would not offer me drinks or drugs to ease the pain. These are just temporary crutches. The only way I can get through this grief is to experience it, and sometimes immerse myself in it. I have to hurt before I can heal.
12. I wish you understood that grief and difficult situations change people. I am not the same person I was before I experienced it nor will I ever be that person again. If you keep waiting for me to “get back to my old self,” you will be frustrated. I am a new creature with new thoughts, dreams, aspirations, values, and beliefs. Please try and get to know the “new me”…maybe you will still like me.

Thoughts on Mother’s Day

There are many good reasons to celebrate Mother’s Day—it can be a day to honor your own mother. One day out of the entire year to thank, honor and celebrate all the sacrifices women make for their families. It should be about love and families.

And there are a lot of good reasons that many do not like Mother's Day too—for me, Mother’s Day is hard because it is a day-long reminder that my husband and I have been struggling from infertility for over 4.5 years.  There are many others who share my sorrow today.  Just google infertility blogs, news, and websites to find many beautiful posts, articles, poems, advice and other information reminding society not to forget about the infertile on Mother's Day.

But it is not just childless infertile women who find mother’s day to be bitterly sad. What about all these other women who dread Mother’s Day?

• Anyone who has lost his or her mother? 
• Those who have lost a child? 
• Those who have not yet found the right partner to start their family with? 
• Those who are estranged from, or have difficult relationships with, their mothers or their children? 
• Those who have disabled children, who cannot make those sweet homemade cards, say “I love you,” or give loving hugs and kisses to their mommy? 
• Those women who struggled for years to create their families and even once they had children, still cannot forget the pain that this particular day used to make them feel. 

This day can be difficult for many women, and men too. To all of you who are struggling today, I want to tell you it is okay not to celebrate. It is okay to take care of yourself today. It is okay to treat today like any other day. It is also okay if you do want to celebrate, whether it be your mother, your children, your memories, or your own strength. Whatever you need to do today, it is okay. And you will be okay too. This day shall pass soon enough and everything will be okay tomorrow.