The vast exhibition hall of the London Fertility Show felt strangely familiar this year as I have come to recognise company stands, logos and people from previous years. A slight difference this year was the presence of a branch-out Fertility Fest, which is always of particular interest to me given the focus of my work on the patient experience of IVF.
My first session of the day was called ‘When Plan B was Meant to Be’ and opened with a reading by Lisa Faulkner from her recently published book ‘Meant to Be: My Journey to Motherhood’. The reading set the scene for an open discussion about the emotional toll that fertility treatment takes on people, the difficult decision of when and how to stop trying, and what happens after IVF that did not result in a baby. Faulkner honestly articulated the enduring grief that follows ‘failed’ IVF while also conveying how a life without adoption, which was originally her Plan B for motherhood, is now unimaginable. Faulkner was joined on stage by fertility specialist Mohamed Taranissi, who offered his perspective on the importance of a personalised treatment procedure that attends to emotional wellbeing. Together they made a case for the importance of close communication between patient and doctor.
From there I attended ‘The Invisible Man’, which dealt with the male experience of infertility. Rod Silvers took to the stage with a personal provocation to the audience that set out a series of traditional male values that impact on men’s experiences of infertility. Silvers emphasised the intimately felt desire and expectation to ‘be the strong one’ in his relationship. Joined by Russell Davies, a fertility coach, and Sheryl Homa, a clinical scientist with a particular interest in male fertility, they challenged the widely accepted fact that women’s bodies are the prime focus of fertility tests and treatments, emphasising that there needs to be a more proactive testing of male fertility as routine in general practice healthcare. They also reflected on the absence of men’s voices in conversations about the emotional impacts of fertility treatment: they emphasised the importance of men talking to other men and lamented the decline of what Davies called ‘men talking around the campfire’ as a form of male peer support.
Entangled throughout discussions of the emotional aspects of infertility, control repeatedly emerged as an important theme: being in control and letting go. Faulkner described the huge relief of handing over control to her fertility specialist and how this gave her the feeling of ‘being carried’ through IVF. Silvers and Davies also spoke about the expectation that men should be the ones to ‘hold it together’ and guard their emotions. There are no established cultural tropes for men’s struggle with the emotional strain of IVF, which plays a part in the absence of men’s voices in discourses of infertility. I wondered about the phrase ‘holding it together’ and thought that the image of holding something – like loss and grief – together seemed pertinent to these discussions about the importance of talking to, caring for and supporting each other.
The designated Fertility Fest room seemed to offer an important space for attendees at this year’s show to hear real voices, conversations and personal experiences. This was a space where people could express their sadness – the sessions both opened with a Fertility Fest trailer where co-founder Jessica Hepburn states that ‘crying is good, isn’t it’. But it was also a space for joking and laughter. This acknowledgement of conflicting emotions reminds us, I think, of what the creative arts are particularly excellent at doing, which is bringing together tragedy and comedy in a way that is sensitive and honest to the complexities of personal experiences of coping, getting by and moving on.