Exactly one year ago, I launched my infertility memoir, In Due Time. One year ago I was so wrapped up in making sure everything was going as planned.
Amazon content edited and proofed. Check.
Blog tour posts completed, edited, proofed, and sent. Check.
Launching a book had been a steep learning curve, and the sooner I made my story public, the better.
Or was it?
Over the past year I have questioned my decision to put it all out there. Many of us who faced infertility challenges go quietly into the night after we reach the other side, or decide to discontinue treatment. We either don’t need or want the world to know about what we experienced, we don’t have the energy to talk about it, or our heart is too broken.
I chose to write about my journey for what I consider a few important reasons. First and foremost (although I didn’t realize it at the time), writing was therapeutic. I was able to rehash my entire experience from beginning to end, allowing me to process everything that had happened, both negative and positive. I worked my way through it piece by piece.
I also chose to write about my experience so that others would not feel alone. This phrase is tossed around the infertility community quite often, but there is no doubt that it’s valid. I had read a number of fertility, infertility, miscarriage, etc. books along the way, but I hadn’t come upon many personal journeys. And I felt pretty alone.
I recently met up with a therapist friend who asked me how the book was going. I answered honestly, telling her that I had let it slip to the back burner because I had so many other things going on in life. It was one of the most important projects I had ever created, but a lot of time and energy goes into marketing a book, and my heart had not been in it lately.
Upon further digging, I realized that I have been questioning my decision to write the book.
To put it all out there.
To “expose” myself.
In grad school, I was taught to be careful about self-disclosure with therapy clients. Not only had I self-disclosed about a challenging time in my life, but I had gone into major detail about it.
Was this the best course of action in reaction to my situation? Could it potentially hurt my career?
I’ve spent some time thinking about this, and keep coming up with a resounding YES and NO.
Yes, writing a book was the best course of action I could have taken because I felt the need. It was therapeutic, and is hopefully a comfort for someone who feels he or she is alone, and needs some encouragement.
No, I don’t believe it will hurt my career. In fact, I believe it will enhance it. Knowing that a therapist understands first hand what infertility can feel like is an advantage.
Today I am proud of what I wrote. End of story.