Does Infertility Make You a Better Parent?

and struggles challenge us. When we work through them, we learn and we grow. Do they make us perfect? Do they make us better than someone absent a given experience? No way.

At the same time, others face their own issues and learn from them. I can say my challenges have made me a better person, not that I would ever have willingly undertaken those challenges. That improvement is self-comparative, that is of me, to me, and not to another. Perhaps that is what the author you quote is articulating.

nellewrites ( http://nellewrites.wordpress.com/ )

I agree with an earlier comment, I guessed that she was not a parent yet, and lke you said, aren't we all better parents before we have kids? Being pessimistic about my chances was what helped me, although bothered my husband. What I did do, when I finally got pregnant was give myself permission to complain about the pregnancy, tiredness, pain, etc.

I do feel like if you have gone though IF you never say things like "be glad you don't have them" or "want mine" when going through a particularly rough patch with your own kids. I hated when people told me that, or that maybe I was better off or something. Believe me, I have no problem expressing frustration with my kids, not always appreciating them, but try not to with people trying to have them.

Nicole/wksocmom
Not Just A Working Mom ( http://www.notjustaworkingmom.blogspot.com )
Silicon Valley Moms ( http://www.svmoms.com )

I think the only thing I can truly say I had more of than a mom who did not go through fertility treatment was "want."

I think that when "want" goes on for too long and has too much uncertainty attached to it, that it moves along the spectrum into longing. And so I think it is fair to say I "wanted" my child more than women who did not go through that challenge simply because my wanting sustained so much longer and moved through many shades of emotional coloring. It is difficult to describe the depth of that feeling to someone who hasn't felt it, and I wouldn't ever wish it on anyone.

But I also think that it is easy to translate that longing into an ideal of better parenting. We convince ourselves that we will never take anything for granted. We will be there in all ways each moment. We will pour out this patience we were forced to develop into our parenting.

But, then, well, the CHILD actually happens, and like all the moms who swore they'd breast-feed for forever, never feed processed foods, never let a television be turned on within a football field's distance from the child, launder clothes only in irritant-free soaps, use only positive discipline and home-school in three languages...too many things happen that render us mere mortals again and all the best intentions to parent in ways worthy of mom-saint-hood disintegrate in the real-life world someone with a nasty sense of humor forces us to live in.

But like you, it's hard to fault someone for trying to find a silver lining in what can only be described as a Cloudy With A Likelihood of Sobbing weather pattern.

Lori, speech pathologist, writer, and business owner, blogs home-family-working-mom drama at In Pursuit of Martha Points. ( http://inpursuitofmarthapoints.com )

It is painfully obvious that the person who wrote that doesn't have children yet. And it sucks, it sucks something awful and I have been there.

The simple fact of the matter is, saying that you will never forget what life without them looked like is bullshit. You do forget. No, it doesn't ever completely go away, but you do forget that intense pain welled up with every negative pregnancy test, you forget the hurt and the crying and the tears. When that child arrives there is a new love, a new life, a new chapter.

And then? Then you are a parent. And you deal with throw up, tantrums, and sleepless nights just like every other parent. It isn't magical. It is parenthood and it's real.

http://www.sowonderfulsomarvelous.com

Wanting to be a good parent makes you a better parent. Wanting to have kids is not the same as wanting to be a good parent.

I've been involved in adoptee rights politics for years, and I have many friends who grew up adopted who were treated horribly by their adoptive parents. If infertility made people better parents, stories like my friend whose adoptive father beat her with a garden hose wouldn't exist.

Mary a/k/a BarnMaven blogs at http://www.barnmaven.typepad.com about single parenting, living with ADHD, too many animals to count and dealing with ADHD/Bipolar kids.

I think by expecting we'll be better parents after IF just brings more disappointment to the whole becoming a parent deal. After a less than 'perfect' road to pregnancy (and possibly complications during pregnancy), a lot of women want to get their happy ending by having a perfect experience of parenthood.

Ain't gonna happen. I don't know how that would work! Parenting is hard and there's no manual. You can read 8 million parenting books (and I have!) and still come out wondering what the hell you're doing.

I think for me the reward after IF is that slowly the pain of a decade of trying to conceive recedes a bit. My heart still breaks for those still going thru that heartache, and I must admit I also don't quite feel like I can relate to Fertile Myrtles to this day. But for the most part? My IF experience is a distant memory. Most days I'm too busy getting bub ready for preschool, doing laundry, wondering what to do about his latest irritating behavior, or just trying to catch 5 minutes to myself to have a quiet bathroom experience. THAT'S the reward at the end of the IF road: you get to become a harried mother with dazzling moments of bliss periodically, in between the dirty underwear and food splattered floors.

But again -- whatever gets you through that long night. And there will be even better joys on the other side than being a better parent that you can't even conceive of before you get there.

Ah, "maybe." I know it well! I don't have anything to compare it to, because both of my children were the result of infertility treatment, but I do know I'm doing that, too, handling babyhood better the second time around. Is it simply because he's my second and last child? Or is it because I know, thanks to my first son's early birth and scary first year, how good I have it this time around?

...Maybe!

It's a dirty little secret, isn't it? I don't know if infertile people have it harder in that respect, but I do know I spent an ocean of tears on that feeling, that after all that, now all THIS?

Ooooh, those last two sentences give me chills. Those should be, like, stamped in big red letters on every child's birth certificate.

It does, but personally I'm not really subject to it. I'm too much in the moment, I think, to do that -- my way is sort of the opposite of mindful parenting. Which, again, feels blessedly normal.

All 3 our children were IVF babies (singleton and twins) and I don't think I'm a better parent because we battled to have children.

In fact, I probably am a little harder on them because I am conscious NOT to overcompensate. Does this make sense?

You can find my crazy ramblings here: http://blogs.parent24.com/tania.roux

Your comment about being grateful for what you have really caught my eye. I'd been reading the responses, thinking of my own but that phrase just made me sit up a little straighter. (And it's early here, so that's a big deal.)

When we were trying to conceive our fourth child, we suffered losses. All loss is loss, but after three, my mindset had changed. We were starting to consider the possibility that we'd have to stop trying, and that we'd have to be complete with our three.

Before anyone thinks three is a lot and I should have happily stopped then, let me preface it by saying that my first two were by a prior marriage, and my husband of many years now is a good man, a good father, and we wanted more children together. Our older children, and we've called them "ours" since he adopted them many years ago, are as much "his" as the ones we created together, but to go through the pregnancy and baby process with him was an experience I wanted to do again. Selfish, maybe, but we really wanted that number four child.

I'd have been able to afford infertility treatments if we'd gotten a dollar from every time someone made a comment implying we should be happy with what we have. We were happy -- and it's one reason we wanted more. It was tiring, and added negatively to an already extremely emotional situation.

Fast forward though to having child number four. The pregnancy was tenuous, and he truly was/is a miracle baby who is now a healthy 9-year-old. However, he's autistic, and I think what we went through during our pregnancy helped prepare us. I don't think we're better parents; we're still impatient at times and certainly don't know it all, but I think we approach things differently. We focus on the little things more. We remember what we went through and what he's going through now and we work on enjoying everything no matter what. Easier said than done on a lot of days, but he's the baby we tried and tried for, and prayed for, asking just for a healthy baby to make it to term, or at least long enough to survive, and he did. We don't get guarantees when we have kids, and we could easily say "gosh, after all we went through, now autism?" but many, many parents and children deal with more and we consider ourselves fortunate to have been blessed with this gift. He's amazing, and all we can do is try to be the parents he needs. That's all we can do with each child, and what that is for each child is unique.

I haven't had fertility problems so I can't comment, although I appreciate everyone's honesty.
What I have heard before, to my astonishment, was "He's very special to us. It took us a long time to have him", which to me implied that this particular child (of a friend) was more special than my three were to me.
I was too astonished to say anything in response unfortunately.

Once I was pregnant, the fact I'd needed pretty intense IF treatment was pretty much a moot point. Maybe a little bit more care in making sure I did everything right because if I lost the pregnancy, it would be a lot of hard work and expense all over again. But I never think about it now. It just doesn't feature.

I think the painful reality check hits us all in one form or another. Parenting, especially having a newborn, is *not* all it's portrayed by society to be and I think the feeling of being cheated really needs to be spoken about.

Alison Golden writes at The Secret Life Of A Warrior Woman ( http://alisongolden.com )

Hmm indead... interesting thought.

I had my first two children relatively easily, and then my third required infertility treatments, and I also suffered two miscarriages before having him. I don't think I'm a "better" mother like I love him more (obviously!) BUT I do think I am better about cherishing my time with him. Some of that may be because of how we struggled to conceive him, some may be because I've had to two babies before and I know how quickly this time passes, some may be that he's our last child, some may be because I'm just older and more patient. Who knows. But I'm handling the sleep-deprivation and sore boobs and all that insanity a LOT better than I did before, and I'm remembering to just stop and BE with him and soak up his baby-ness in ways I never did with the other kids. So I guess my answer is... maybe?

"I am still not as present as I should be, as often as my kids deserve. There are times I resent the work of childrearing, the ceaseless drag of the care and feeding. My patience frequently fails me, and I make sure everyone knows it. I complain. I scold. I roll my eyes. I look forward to school and day care."

Thanks for your post! It was very honest and real. I had my second child via invitro, and the desire to have her did not make me a better mother. You never know what you're going to be like as a parent until after you have children.All the insecurities, fears, and foibles I had before becoming a parent still reside in me and affect my mothering.

I quoted you above because this is how I feel...often. I am impatient, I roll my eyes, I yell, I walk away with agitation, and I hate this. I don't know why I feel I should be better -- a better mom, a better person -- but I do. And my reaction to my kids make me feel crappier by the day -- infertility treatments or no -- loving my kids beyond anything and anyone.

Thanks for your post.

Marina@ http://marinagraphy.com

Regards,

Marina DelVecchio

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As crazy as it is, I'm grateful for the bad moments, too -- I love feeling so NORMAL.

Oooh, good point about the painful reality check. I also think we don't talk enough about the possibility that you might not immediately feel the rush of overpowering adoration you expected. I mean, we've fantasized about it for so long, imagined falling head-over-heels pink-puffy-hearts immediately, and...it's not necessarily like that, not right at first. For me, at least, it was a lot more complicated than that. And I was appalled at myself.

So I could have used some perspective on that. I was lucky to get encouragement from my friends inside the computer, some assurances that, actually, parts of it really do blow.

Desi, I hadn't made this connection, but you touch on something that's always bothered me. When we were trying for a second child and people said, "Be grateful for what you have," I always wondered why they thought I wasn't! We were trying to have a second because we were grateful -- because the first was so great! I wrote about that here: http://www.alittlepregnant.com/alittlepregnant/200...

Thanks for adding a new layer to the whole question.

Ha, weren't we all better parents before we had children? Aside from thinking I knew it all, I also never, ever wore a shirt with someone else's snot on it.

Thank you for being honest. It normalizes my "OMG! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT TO READ THAT BOOK AGAIN!???!??" thoughts. I come from a different perspective and experience, so knowing that you have similar thoughts makes me feel less... alone.

Contributing Editor Jenna Hatfield (@FireMom ( http://twitter.com/FireMom )) blogs at Stop, Drop and Blog ( http://stopdropandblog.com ) and The Chronicles of Munchkin Land ( http://thechroniclesofmunchkinland.com ). She is a freelance writer and newspaper photographer.

Thanks for this thought-provoking post. I am not the 'good mother' I thought I would be - in fact, I was a better mother when I was childless :) We had our first child (now 4) easily, but are experiencing secondary infertility. I wish I could say that this has made me a better mum, but I don't think it has - but, like you say, I am grateful.

I'm not a better parent just because we had to go through what we did to make my son. I wish that I could be, but I'm really not. My daughter was 19 months old when we became pregnant the second time, after over a year of hearing things like "maybe we should do some tests" and "frequent anovulatory cycles" and "uterine damage" and "have you considered fertility treatment?" and eventually "it's okay to hope, but try to be grateful for what you have".

It happened. I'm grateful. My family is complete and I love my children more than the air in my lungs. But I'm not the perfect mother I swore I would be when I finally saw that positive test. I don't think any of us are.

On the one hand, I do agree with you. Whatever gets you through the day, wherever you find comfort in a really challenging time. While I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with infertility, MANY of my fellow twin-mom friends have been there and back.

My only real problem with this line of thinking is the self-inflicted pressure to BE that "better" parent. To "always" be present, to "always" be grateful and appreciative. The reality is that almost no one is that saintly a parent. Parenting is incredibly hard and stressful and sometimes mundane and sometimes inconvenient and all kinds of other unpleasant things to go along with all of the delights and miracles. I think a lot of moms who have struggled so long and hard to have that baby are in for a possibly painful reality check when they find themselves frustrated, bored, annoyed, angry, and imperfect. In short, totally normal. But I worry that if you set the expectations so high, you're only putting yourself at greater risk for PPD and excess stress and disappointment.

As you say, whatever gets you through. I just hate for people to then beat themselves up when they discover that we all have failings and imperfections. We all have moments when our kids drive us absolutely up the wall. No matter how grateful we are to have them in the first place.