Sini Parampota

Infertility and childlessness are two very distinct words that evoke primitive anxieties. I almost feel sorry for them. It’s not their fault that they communicate such difficult, painful or traumatic experiences. On the contrary, they must be brave and altruistic enough in order to perform this function on behalf of others.

I definitely lean towards the latter - appreciation and admiration for their courage to carry the burden of their meaning; from one hand they dress in words the tears, pain and grief of the people who encounter such, and on the other they might unknowingly transmit the inherent shame of the society for those who fail to procreate.

Every time I speak to an audience about my research the first reaction is silence. The second vary in forms of social defenses.

For my part, usually the impostor syndrome kicks in first, followed by reflection and curiosity; how best can I frame my speech that will allow people attending to open up their hearts and ears like mussels do in the steam?

Let me tell you a story from the Greek mythology; Sisyphus was the king of the city of Ephyra, who often used his cleverness to kill those who visited his city. He committed the ultimate sin of hubris when he cheated Death twice, thinking himself as equal to or better than the Gods. Zeus condemned him to roll a rock up to the top of a mountain, only to have the rock roll back down to the bottom every time he reached the top. 

For many years, I lived like Sisyphus. A career-oriented woman, who crafted her own path in life and “cheated” twice the Gods of social norms by escaping marriage and the moral obligation of making babies when I was expected to.

When I finally felt ready, my biological clock was ticking “late”. So, like Sisyphus, I was condemned to roll the boulder of IVF cycles multiple times in a span of a decade only to start every time all over again from the bottom of the hill.

It was when I came to terms with the fact of not having children -biological or adopted for different reasons, that I was finally able to free myself from this endless loop, find peace and focus on things that were actually within my sphere of influence, such as pursuing a graduate degree in organizational behavior.

When I was close to determine my thesis topic, I had an A-HA moment and decided to combine my expertise in career development with the research on lived experiences of infertility and their impact on female leaders’ career aspirations. For this qualitative study I used an interpretative phenomenological analysis approach to make sense of the stories of seven women, who were high-profiled leaders in their respective fields. Among other findings, one stood out as most surprising, “The paradox model of infertility giving birth to change”.

The footprint of the research participants’ journey and their experiences suggested that infertility created traumas, which triggered defenses. Psychological safety in combination with post-traumatic growth factors, helped these women to reflect and take actions that resulted in becoming agents of change for themselves but also for the systems they were part of.

Through my research I was able to challenge not only my personal limiting beliefs and biases, but also find my voice again. I was able to take a step on the balcony of my inner theater, observe the action that happens on stage, reflect upon and direct my own life story. I found meaning in shifting the greater perception of infertility from a medical diagnosis and disability to an anthropocentric experience that can be transformative.

It also prompted me to deploy my years of experience in the field of counseling and career development and put them into good service for other women who have been through similar experiences and seek support, by initiating a pro-bono coaching initiative.

Four years later, I still witness the effects of “The paradox model of infertility giving birth to change”. Infertility and involuntary childlessness became the fertile soil to plant the seeds of my doctoral research, proposing a new lens at female experiences of infertility and childlessness as important dimensions for both career development and organizational consultancy research.

The story of enabling myself moving forwards might sound easier said than done. Like many other women, I have my bruises and scars. Today, I am finally able to look at them and accept them as part of a long road, “full of adventure, full of discovery”, as C.P. Cavafy describes the journey to Ithaka.

The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops, or the angry Poseidon do not frighten me anymore. Instead they became my companions, as I set out for Ithaka. Now, I don’t hurry the journey. I met the pain and we made friends. Maybe, this is what I was destined for, to learn and share these experiences with others; to make me wise, full of experiences, to give me a marvelous journey.

Maybe, infertility and childlessness is my Ithaka.

Photo by Gilberto Olimpio on Unsplash