Beta, any good news?
Beta, any good news? Many South Asians are all too familiar with this question being asked at social gatherings. Especially if you have been married for more than a year. The heavy expectation to have children and carry on the family name can become incredibly stressful, especially when trying to conceive becomes more difficult.
South Asian culture is heavily rooted in building a strong family structure. A lot of celebrations revolve around weddings and the birth of children, with deep meaning behind them. After marriage, I often had to reflect how my actions would impact my parents. I did not want to bring shame or embarrassment to them in any way. I never imagined that children would not be in my future.
My husband and I tried to conceive for seven years with three miscarriages. After learning about a genetic chromosome issue in 2016, we decided to live a childless life. Infertility put our lives on hold for many years. We decided it was time to move on because we did not have anymore strength left to run another marathon with surrogacy or adoption.
After stopping treatments, I was diagnosed with complicated grief, anxiety, and PTSD. I felt completely lost and alone. I had no idea where I was coming from and where I was going. All I could see was darkness around me. When you build your reality around motherhood as a form of external validation, I was shattered to pieces after infertility. I had to unlearn the many ways society and my culture brought me up with its definitions of what it means to be a woman, wife, daughter, and daughter in law.
Family weddings became a huge source of anxiety for me during our infertility journey. It felt like report card day at school. Receiving a grade for my performance as a wife, daughter, and daughter in law. When I would look around a room, everyone would be catching up with loved ones sharing news about their lives. My anxiety stemmed from being asked by random aunties whether any children were on the way. Its hard to avoid people when you see them repeatedly for a week. Out of respect, I would shrug my shoulders and smile. I did not want to bring shame to my family. It was important to look good in front of others because I was carrying the respect of my family.
After undergoing therapy for the last couple of years, I learned I created a story in my head that I was a bad daughter and daughter in law. I felt so much shame for not being able to produce a grandchild. I believed my parents were disappointed in me, despite the unconditional love I always received. We were lucky to have both our parents stand beside us during our infertility journey. However, I was still extremely hard on myself because societal and cultural pressures consumed me inside.
It saddens me to admit, that many South Asian couples may not receive the same support as we did from our parents. Often, women are questioned and blamed for the reason there is no grandchild. In some cases, husbands may be asked to look elsewhere to carry on the family name.
Learning to embrace a childless life left us feeling isolated, regardless of the unconditional love we receive from loved ones. The South Asian culture can come across as very dismissive when you do not fit the norm. I still struggle with intense emotions of shame and guilt. Being a child of an immigrant, my parents sacrificed everything for me and my siblings to build a full life. For a long time, I felt like I disappointed them and wasted their efforts by not being able to have children. With the help of therapy, I learned to forgive myself and believe that I deserved to create a life full of joy with my husband.
The topics of infertility and mental health are very hush hush in the South Asian community. I started @sindywithcare on Instagram and Facebook to break the stigma.
It is my mission to be completely vulnerable, so others recognize the signs earlier than I did and can get help. We all deserve to be fully seen and heard, regardless of our circumstances. I am standing beside you.
Satwinder Kaur