Chanel Contos on learning about menstruation and fertility before she tries to get pregnant
Idea
It took me until my mid-20s to fully understand my menstrual cycle and what each phase meant for my mind and body. Not because I’m not curious or haven’t felt the effects of these things, but because learning about women’s bodies tends to happen reactively after confusion, discomfort, or something going wrong.
For many months I paid careful attention to moods, cravings, flow, pain, and energy. I finally piece together how my hormones affect my mind and body (for better and worse). It may have taken me over a decade to get my period, but I now know my body well enough to tell the time of ovulation from the slightest cramp, and I understand that 10 hours of sleep along with a change in the smell of my right armpit (I wish I was joking) means my luteal phase has begun.
All of this hard-earned awareness has been used to fulfill the most important mission of my life to date: Negative getting pregnant But as more of my friends enter a new phase in their lives, I’m realizing that one day I may have to figure out how to do it. to obtain pregnant. Given how much fear built up in me about how easy it was to have an unwanted pregnancy, I thought the plan should be as simple as 1+1, but that’s not always the case.
This incomplete knowledge of what is involved in the process of getting pregnant is not a personal failing but the product of decades of underfunded research. bad education and a millennia-old stigma surrounding women’s bodies.
These experiences are not singular; they are also reflected in national data. Australia’s fertility rate delay in parenthood, economic uncertainty, changing social norms and youth apathy are all contributing to widening the gap between fertility intentions and outcomes for young Australians.
All of these factors combine to create a national fertility literacy gap; This means that most Australian women don’t start learning about fertility until they start “trying” or consider their options after it becomes clear they aren’t perfect. Why are we encouraged to learn about fertility only when it becomes urgent? Why haven’t we learned the lesson about the need to be proactive in understanding women’s bodies to enable greater control, better health outcomes, and greater decision-making ability?
I’m not sure if you’ve ever been asked to be unequivocally confident about a life-changing decision like wanting a child. If you are, I’m not there yet, but it feels unfair that the uncertainty many face combined with incomplete information. The only thing I’m sure my future self would want is options and completely To choose, knowledge and understanding are needed.
Unfortunately, as we know, age is the most important factor It affects a woman’s chances of having a baby. But recently news came to me that the infamous number “35” is not a turning point, fertility declines gradually in the late 20s and declines even faster in the late 30s.
Fertility (more specifically, infertility) is still largely perceived as a “women’s” issue, and unsuccessful attempts to conceive can still lead to implicit social stigma. This belief reflects historical attitudes that define women primarily through their reproductive roles, with challenges often misunderstood or unfairly individualized. Now we know this male fertility and sperm quality decline It is also related to age, and (I hope we all know) women’s lives and identities are not defined by their reproductive capacity.
But most conversations about fertility still happen too late and act as a means to solve a problem; It is triggered by difficulty conceiving, decreased numbers, or fear. We have yet to take a strengths-based approach and make fertility education part of lifelong health outcomes.
It’s still many years before I make a decision about the kids, but I’m insistent that I won’t be left with complete confusion and disorientation when I do. That’s why I’m choosing to understand my fertility health now. Not because I want answers about babies, but because I want answers about my body. I absolutely love knowing what’s going on inside me. I HE The patient who has the doctor run every line of the blood test to better understand the situation, even if the results are normal.
From a financial perspective, I have had similar tests done before, but their purpose was to detect a problem and help solve it. Being in the waiting room felt different than being in the chair this time. It wasn’t as scary as it was in the past. I think it’s because I didn’t expect the Catch-22 of a diagnosis or lack of answers in the results. Rather, I was taking charge of my own body and gathering more information to use as I wished.
For some, the first step in their fertility journey can be as simple as adding a brief chat about fertility health as part of routine check-up care. Depending on your doctor’s recommendations, this may mean follow-up appointments or a variety of tests to reveal information relevant to your specific questions.
Conversations about fertility health should not be about encouraging people to have children sooner or at all, but instead about gathering more information for more informed decisions. Nothing about our bodies can be certain or absolute, but the sooner we start considering options, at least whatever choice we make in the future will be properly informed.
Chanel Contos is the founder and CEO of Chanel Contos. Teach Us Consent and its author Consent Made Bare. He is currently a Governor Phillip Scholar at Oxford University, studying public policy.
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Chanel Contos is the Founder and CEO of Teach Us Consent. She holds an MA in Public Policy from the University of Oxford and an MA in Gender, Education and International Development from University College London.
