Women who have struggled with infertility know that it is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. Dealing with infertility can spark a number of other mental health concerns. It starts by convincing yourself that your body is not good enough. Your body has betrayed you, and has taken stolen your life-giving right. Is this true? Of course not, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
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This feeling comes from an innate maternal force within women. The force that wants to love, nurture, protect and raise a baby of her own. How do we start to forgive ourselves, and our bodies, when we discover we are infertile and can’t carry a child? It isn’t easy, but we can learn from women who have gone through, or are going through the same thing.
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One such women is Mrs. Cathy Raubenheimer, who stays with her husband Julian in Grotto Bay. Cathy has struggled with her infertility for almost a decade before finding peace. Now, she’s a published author helping other women through their infertile journeys.
We sat down with Cathy to learn more about her story, and how she found healing on her journey with infertility:
“I lived abroad for eight years before settling back in SA. When I got back, it hit me hard that I was no closer to finding a husband, let alone having a child. I was approaching 40, and knew this meant my eggs were diminishing in quality and quantity.
With each passing year, the risk of pregnancy complications increased. By this stage, most of my friends were married and had kids. I could hear the clock ticking. I had to get a move on if I wanted a healthy child of my own.
After two failed engagements and much heartache, I faced the reality of ‘going it alone’. I didn’t have the luxury of time to try and find a husband and then take the risk of the relationship not working again. So I got in touch with a sperm donor agency.
When I met Julian, having a baby was not in his plans. Being a divorcee, he already had two kids. He couldn’t face starting from scratch with nappies, broken sleep and the responsibility of it all. He had also had a vasectomy, but I still had every intention of going-it-alone with my plan.
Julian asked whether I would delay my plan and give us time alone as a couple before I started the IVF process. I agreed to give him a year. My dream of having a baby is not going to go away, I warned him… It seemed a good compromise at the time, but I soon realised again that time was not on my side. I had to walk away from Jules to continue the pursuit of my baby dream. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. I walked away with love in my heart for him.
During our ‘four-day sabbatical’, as I call it, his brother asked Julian bluntly.
“Can you live the rest of your life without Cathy?”
Julian’s answer was an immediate and emphatic “No!”
We agreed to meet for a coffee. He leaned across the table and took my hand. “If it means we can be together forever, I’m ready to commit to us having a baby and raising it together…”
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We started IVF straight away. I felt insecure about his commitment to being a father as he was only doing this out of love for me. But another part of me knew that when we had our baby, he would love it, it’s the kind of man he is.
After multiple failed IVF rounds, the challenge was to keep trying – picking myself up time after time. These were the challenging times. Trying to deal with the desperation for a baby, keeping positive and maintaining my social media business was very hard, especially after a miscarriage, hormone treatments and invasive tests.
It was a lonely journey, even though I had the most caring, loving and therapist, a critical component to surviving IVF, but we did not find a single support group, so I took it into my own hands.
I set up a website and social media pages so that I could share my experiences to help others who could be feeling as alone as I was.
When hard lockdown started in SA, we ran out of eggs. The timing made the decision for us – the fertility clinics closed. It really felt like a natural conclusion to a tough journey.
After a roller coaster seven-year journey, I’ve written a book, Abundantly Empty. I talk about my infertility journey and offer insights and advice along the way in the hopes to help someone on this path.
I’ve gained resilience, personal strength and a very strong marriage. I have learnt to appreciate other things: Getting out into nature, sunshine, love, freedom, quiet time without millions of appointments, and my little dog, sitting on my lap. I treasure the freedom to jump in the car with Jules midweek and head off somewhere for a night.
We’re experiencing an awareness of freedom and we are testing the boundaries of what this means. It’s like a muscle that you start to flex!’
Visit Cathy’s website, IVF Support, or purchase Cathy’s book, Abundantly Empty, on Loot.
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Feature Image: Cathy Raubenheimer
