A week or so ago, Marvin and I were discussing fertility in the context of the measles affecting a man's fertility. I have no idea how it came up, but it did in that weird way that topics randomly pass across the synapses. In the course of our conversation, I mentioned my own fertility.
Between PCOS and endometriosis, there's a strong possibility that I have fertility problems. No doctor has told me that and I don't need to know for several years. But it's the statistical facts that both those conditions affect the ability to get pregnant.
Marvin's response: "That sucks. I want lots of kids."
It was an unexpected comment. Mainly because we are casually dating and it was such a blatant statement that he was considering having kids with me. It isn't like I haven't considered the same prospect, but it was still a slight shock to hear the words come out of his mouth.
The follow up to my shock was fear. This guy wants lots of kids. And here I am with possible fertility issues. A disappointing fear. The prospect of failure. Of fighting. Of being torn apart by the trying, the ups and downs, the disappointment month after month.
This kind of health fear isn't the only one that affects my relationships. Sadly, all sorts of fears come along with chronic health conditions. And when you're dating, it isn't just you that's afraid anymore. It isn't just you that you need to be strong for. It's another human being, another human being that obviously cares for you.
It's the fear of an adrenal tumor like last week. It's the fear of lows in the middle of the night, of being woken to a clammy, shaking partner. It's the fear of complications. Whether it be fertility or amputation. It's the fear of the unknown. What will blood tests bring up next? And what will all this do to our relationship?
I'm good with fear. I've lived with a lot of it my entire life. I've learned how to manage it, to confront it, and not let it take over the way it so easily can. Unfortunately, newcomers to this game sometimes can't handle the fear.
I can hear it in their voices when I tell them what a high cortisol level might mean. I can see it in their faces when I say I could have fertility issues. It's that uncomfortable silence after the scary topics come up. It's the confrontation of death all too often.
For me, I can keep handling this fear. I can keep pushing through it. But for them, can they? Are they willing to take on the challenge of living with a partner with chronic health issues? Are they comfortable with discussing the big issues and getting over the fear?
Only time can tell that. And only being honest and open about the fear and the conditions can. Yes, fertility might be a problem for me. But that isn't the end of my world. I'm okay with adoption. And nothing is set in stone at this moment. So who will keep standing in the end with me? Who will manage the fear alongside me?
Only time will tell that as well.
In all seriousness, do you really believe that chronic health issues are the most influential on success or failure of a relationship?
I have lived enough years to have dated a handful of people. When the dating ended for those people, it was never because of my chronic health issues, and furthermore, it was never because we didn't love each other. Well, one of them needed to be drop-kicked over the building landing in the dumpster behind it, but still, even in that case it was my decision to break up and it had nothing to do with my chronic health issues.
But interestingly, I do feel it is interesting to mention that the personality types of those people of my past did include a willingness to care and sometimes assist with my health issues, perhaps because they had a need to feel needed and worthy on some subtle level. Or it could have been that they were genuinely caring -- just look at all the types of people who study to be nurses and doctors and any type of healthcare provider. Certainly such people have a genuine interest in the well-being other than themselves -- and there are also people who are in other non-medical fields who feel similarly.
In my world, I pretty much know it when someone genuinely cares, no matter who they are. For me the issue is not whether my chronic health issues will determine whether a relationship works, but instead how well I am able to take care of my own health issues.
In my world, the ending of past relationships was mostly because we just had different personality types and could not always see eye-to-eye, like for instance, when they did not believe me when I said I am always right about everything! :-) Just kidding, but you know what I mean. It honestly never had anything to do with my chronic health issues, and I believe it is because I have learned to like myself for all I am, even for things I do not find pleasant. I'm okay, and Lindsey, you most certainly are okay too. And if you wonder if that's true, just remember that I am "always right" or I'll never speak to you again. ;-) In humor, of course. :-)