There is support out there
B was a mother before she became a woman with HIV. But learning her status destroyed her goal of having more children. Years later, she learned she could have more children. What came next was unexpectedly challenging.
B was a mother before she became a woman with HIV. But learning her status destroyed her goal of having more children. Years later, she learned she could have more children. What came next was unexpectedly challenging.
“A few years later, my partner and I started talking about having a baby. We were faced with some negative reactions to our decision - even our friends and family didn’t agree with it. I had to deal with a lot of judgement.”
I am the mother of two beautiful children. One born before my diagnosis and one after. Once I learned my HIV status, becoming a mother involved many twists and turns. When I was diagnosed with HIV in my mid-twenties, I was single but the possibility of having more children was on my mind. I asked my family doctor “Can I still have more kids”? He told me “I don’t think that’s a good idea, I don’t think you should more kids”. As a young woman I was crushed. But a year later I was involved in the HIV movement and was finding out more information. It was at a conference that I learned I could have more kids, if I wanted them. That was a really emotional experience for me.
A few years later, my partner and I started talking about having a baby. We were faced with some negative reactions to our decision - even our friends and family didn’t agree with it. I had to deal with a lot of judgement. I was always convincing myself that it was fine to have a baby. I thought “This is something I deserve. I can do this. It is not about what other people think”. When healthcare providers make you feel judged too, it’s hard to stay positive. I felt many service providers needed more education and understanding about HIV and pregnancy. For instance, nobody asked me about my goals about becoming a mother again. I guess they just assumed I was alright with having one child. I wasn’t. I was stressed and worried and needed support.
We started trying to have a baby without really talking to anyone. Even though this was before the standard of U=U (undetectable = untransmittable), I was undetectable, so we decided to start trying natural conception. After more than a year of trying to get pregnant, I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome, which can lead to fertility issues. The fact that I didn’t seem to be able to get pregnant made me feel inadequate as a woman. Again, I was left questioning whether I was worthy of having another baby or was this God’s way. Self-stigma found its way into my desire to be a mother again. But my partner was supportive. He was a brave man going into that with me. I will always give him credit where credit is due. He kept me optimistic.
I didn’t have any information about resources I could access or fertility clinics. I just assumed places like that weren’t available to me. This lack of knowledge was a real challenge for me. When I look back, I see that I couldn’t make an informed decision about trying to get pregnant. We had no choices to put together a plan. Instead, we tried and tried to conceive for years. Eventually we stopped trying. We just figured we wouldn’t have a baby together. We were wrong. It had been a few years since we stopped trying to get pregnant and I missed my period. I didn’t actually think I was pregnant, but I took a test, and it came back positive. I was in shock and scared. You might be asking why I had this reaction when I had wanted a baby. I had completely moved on and I no longer saw my life with a baby in it. It was really hard getting myself mentally prepared when I did find out I was pregnant and that didn’t feel good. I just wanted to be excited. It took time but we got there.
Our little girl is such a blessing. Of course, I wish the early days of my pregnancy hadn’t felt so stressful but having her in my life makes it worthwhile.
Throughout everything we went through, I never could find the right supports. I can look back now and see that some of that was my doing. The judgement I experienced made me so closed off. It is almost impossible to reach out when you feel stigmatized. My desire to have another baby had become such a private matter that when we stopped trying, we thought that was the end of it. I didn’t want to face any more negative attitudes. This also meant that when we found out I was pregnant, I was again alone and scared.
Over the years, the HIV community has become a leading source of education and support for me. It is because of my connection to the community that I can see what good communication and care could have looked like. I am someone who likes to learn from my own experiences.
Now I can see how valuable it would have been to have had more information that could have helped me to know about supports, safe places, ASOs, even fertility options. I would have felt much more prepared when I became pregnant.
One of my dreams is for there would be a sign right in the windows of agencies that will support families affected by HIV. Wouldn’t that be amazing?! Like how LGBTQ2SI+ friendly spaces can post a pride flag. If that existed, I wouldn’t have done this all on my own. I hope other women will learn from my story and reach out for support. You can do this. You deserve this. There is support out there.