Field Guide 001: The Bingo Card
If you mention infertility in public, you will summon The Experts.
They appear from nowhere. They are Uber drivers. They are colleagues you barely know. They are distant relatives holding a plate of deviled eggs.
And they all have The Answer.
We call this game Infertility Bingo.
The prize for winning is "Not screaming in a public place."
The problem with these comments isn't usually malice; it's the assumption that you, the person who has spent thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours in a clinic, haven't thought of the "simple solution."
Here are the top squares on the Bingo Card, and the logic we use to survive them.
SQUARE 1: "Just Relax." Also known as: "You're trying too hard," or "Go on a holiday."
The Subtext: That your infertility is a mood disorder. That you are causing this with your anxiety. The Reality: We have relaxed. We have been to the beach. We have drunk the wine. Spas are full of relaxed people; they don't walk out pregnant.
The Defense (Realist): Stress didn't cause this. Biology did. If relaxation cured medical conditions, oncologists would just prescribe naps.
SQUARE 2: "Have you tried [Insert Weird Hack]?" Also known as: Pineapple cores, legs up the wall, keto, celery juice, acupuncture.
The Subtext: Western medicine failed. Try something mystical. The Reality: If eating a specific fruit got you pregnant, teenage pregnancy rates would look very different.
The Defense (Absurdist): I've tried being a pincushion. My body remains unimpressed. I'll ask my ovaries to meditate..
SQUARE 3: "Why don't you just adopt?" Also known as: "There are so many kids who need homes."
The Subtext: There is an obvious solution you are too stubborn to see. The Reality: Adoption is a beautiful, complex, expensive, and traumatic process. It is not a "consolation prize" or a backup plan you can activate on a Tuesday.
The Defense (Critic): 'Just adopt' isn't how adoption works. It's not a store you walk into. Adoption doesn't delete infertility.
SQUARE 4: "Whose fault is it?" Also known as: "Is it him or her?"
The Subtext: Someone is to blame and I need to know who. The Reality: It doesn't matter. In a marriage, a diagnosis for one is a diagnosis for both. We share the house; we share the empty room.
The Defense (Diplomat): There's no blame to assign here. We face this as partners, not opponents.
If the machine saved you a conversation, Buy Us A Chip.
