I wrote an article about this in the third person for National Infertility Awareness week, and looking back on it, it was awkward as hell.
I’d like to try it again, because I think guys can play a valuable role in infertility, even though it is truly a “women’s world” experience.
After we had a miscarriage of a our first bonafide positive pregnancy, It was right before our 10th wedding anniversary. We had planned a trip up the coast of California, thinking we’d be celebrating our first decade of marriage with the excited energy of pending parents.
Instead we were refugees from a horrible infertility nightmare, and every bathroom stop for Lisa was a reminder of what we had lost.
I didn’t know what to say, know what to do. There were no words. Nothing I could do or say was going to take that pain away.
When she fell apart, all I could do was give my shoulder to her.
I watched her tears fall when we got the news about the miscarriage, and like some slow motion movie scene they dropped down to the cold hard ground. I could feel the impact, see her pain, and felt the strongest urge to give those tears a softer place to fall.
A few years after that miscarriage, I was playing back and forth in Nashville, I still saw the pain in Lisa’s eyes when she would see a child running up to her mother. Or any scene in a movie between a mother and child.
If I could have made a deal with God to trade my soul in exchange for taking that pain away I would have.
But I couldn’t.
I could only be a soft place to fall.
That is the most that men can be for spouses during infertility I let those tears fall on my shoulder, and felt them seep onto my skin, and somehow I was absorbing some of her pain, if even in the microscopic way.
I’ve attached the song I wrote about this, A Soft Place To Fall above. It’s dedicated to all the guys who don’t have the words when the losses are the worst
You can always be a soft place for tears to fall.