Marriage

I thought I would put in my two sense on the effects of infertility on marriage.  I have been really pondering this subject and have been glad to see other blogs have had the same thought as me.  It's as if we are all on the same page!  I think I have a unique perspective which I will share in the 2nd part, but my 1st part is probably not new and something we've all figured out which is men react differently to coping then us women.

Part 1:

Although, this infertility thing is new to me, I will say that no matter how supportive (and let me note my hubby is VERY supportive) your husband is, infertilty causes a strain on a marriage.  My husband got over the grief in a matter days, no strike that, hours after the surgery.  Or so it seemed.  He said that he coped in his own way (aka hunting).  But because he wasn't sad or crying over it like I was, I thought it wasn't as a big deal to him as it was for me.  He didn't want to talk about it, to relive those feelings.  He would listen to me, but he didn't grieve with me.  Later on I realized that just because he wasn't coping or grieving the way I expected him or wanted him to cope or grieve didn't mean that he wasn't coping, grieving, and hurting.  Even knowing this, almost two months later I still find it hard not to be frustrated at times, that as I cry every day, he seems to be okay.  But then I remember this:

Part 2

I chose him to be my husband and because of that we will get through this.  Together.  Let me explain why this is HUGE people!  My ethnic background is Cambodian.  My dear Mother endured horrific tragedies in order to escape out of the Vietnam War and come to America.  Her trials are extraordinary, far worse than any trials I have gone through or hope to go through.  When she got here, she was 19, her family was poor, and the custom back then was to have an arranged marriage. In order for her family to survive, her mother (my grandmother), made an arrangement for her to be married to the first suitor who could provide a specific monetary amount.  My dear father, had seen my mother, fell in love with her and was determined to marry her.  He was, too, poor, and might I add the only adopted son in a family of 9 kids.  There was several suitors, but my father was the first to come up with the money. So, to make a long story short, my parents were married.  My mom at 19 was married to someone she barely knew and was over a decade older than her.  I never realized the meaning of this until a few years after I had been married.  To love someone and to be in with love someone are two different things.  Having a choice to who you marry is something I think we Americans forget and take for granted.  I can not imagine the emotions that go along with an arranged marriage for both sides.  My guess is there not many support groups for this or blogs on this subject.  I may be wrong, but it is not something you hear about often and I know how lonely it feels to be infertile, but I can't imagine going through this with someone I did not choose to go through this with. My parents are extremely good people and I know now they love each other.  And it all works out, trust me, one of the most beautiful moments I have ever witnessed is their sealing in the temple 3 years ago.  Tomorrow, is their anniversary, they will have been married for 28 years. I love them dearly and hope through their story you have learned that no matter how rough it gets in your marriage, remember that it was your choice, YOU chose that man to be your husband.  Don't take that for granted.