Today we share the third part of our “Three Journeys of Infertility” series. Regina Townsend is passionate about speaking on the struggle of infertility in the African American community and through her blog, The Broken Brown Egg, connects those in need.
My journey towards becoming a mom started when my husband I realized that we weren’t getting pregnant after a couple years of marriage. I never really knew anything about infertility other than a couple rare instances I’d heard from celebrities or friends of friends. I’d had problems with my period for years, but most doctors had only told me it was my thyroid and that I needed to just take my synthroid, lose weight, and take birth control pills. In the black community, there’s never been a lot of talk about medical issues in general, let alone fertility struggles, so we had no idea we’d encounter any.
The imagery I was seeing in my community perpetuated a myth that black women were not struggling with fertility issues, but rather that we instead needed more help with not getting pregnant. I heard ads on the radio about fibroid treatments, but never anything about what fibroids were, or that they caused infertility. And most of my sex ed classes in elementary and high school talked at length about how teen pregnancy was an epidemic among black teen girls, with most of our lessons being cautionary tales and not discussions on how to protect and plan with our bodies.
I was conditioned to believe that my fertility was a given. So the more that my husband and I struggled and waited, the more isolated and broken I began to feel. As I researched treatments and conditions, I came to learn that maybe there was more happening than just my thyroid issues, and if I wasn’t an anomaly, maybe there were other black women dealing with this also. I searched and searched online for other women of color who were talking about infertility, but I kept coming up empty.
To help myself cope and feel a bit more proactive, I started my blog, The Broken Brown Egg, to journal about our journey, and almost instantly, I began to see a number of other black women began reaching out to me and saying that they too had been looking for someone who could relate. Black women, I learned, had higher instances of infertility, and infertility-causing issues such as fibroids, but were less likely to seek treatment for them. Getting the conversation started became my passion, and also something that gave me some peace and purpose on the long path. Helping others, really helped me.
Eventually, I was blessed to find a doctor who listened to my concerns, and I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. Further testing also concluded that both of my fallopian tubes were blocked, and that my husband’s diabetes and a childhood hernia had caused sperm issues as well. We fundraised, applied for grants, and used insurance to finally pursue IVF in 2015, resulting in a healthy pregnancy and birth of our son Judah. Judah is our pride and joy. I know it’s cliche, but seriously, after a 10 year struggle, there’s really no other way to describe him.
No matter how you look at it, infertility sucks. It tears away at almost everything we think about who we are at our very core. It feels as though it strips away our ability to plan for our own futures, or to achieve what many of us hold as our ultimate goal of family and legacy. Regardless of our race, ethnicity, or background, it hurts us all. However, representation matters, and having someone who looks like you, or can relate to you on a personal level is comfort in a time of ultimate stress.
My tips for anyone struggling with fertility issues, are to be as vocal as you can. Tell your doctors what you’re thinking, what you’d like to try, and what your concerns may be. If they don’t listen, find a new doctor. Gaining your power back, when you feel most powerless, is a great way to boost your positivity levels. Be kind to yourself. Find things that make you happy, and enjoy them without guilt or shame. Embrace the parts of you that are awesome and that have nothing to do with you being a parent. Remember, before you ever become anyone’s mama, you’re an amazing part of this life all by yourself, and we’re all better because YOU exist
Here’s a few of my favorite resources for Infertility and African American Infertility, but feel free to follow me for more:
Regina Towsend is a wife, IVF mom, librarian, and infertility advocate committed to connecting people through her infertility blog, The Broken Brown Egg.
Thank you for this! I was diagnosed with pcos in 2014 after having wls. My cycles never returned and I’m still on the heavy side. I have been married for almost 19years and we have given up. I started a blog as well about how doctors overlook us. I’m definitely becoming more of an advocate for me this new year. I’m doing things to get my diabetes back under control.