This document discusses how medical technologies and discourse around fertility and infertility can enable or exclude certain bodies and possibilities from "mattering". It references how a tubal patency test was performed during another medical procedure without full consent. It also discusses how medical literature describes menstruation and menopause as a "failure of production". Finally, it poses the question of what and who do technologies of fertility/infertility enable to matter or exclude from mattering.
3. “I went ahead and did a tubal patency test
on the remaining fallopian tube while I was
in there, and it looks good.”
(my OBGYN to my partner, immediately
after a surgery to remove a serous
cystadenoma that also resulted in a
salpingectomy and partial oophorectomy)
4. “…another kind of horror for us is lack of
production: the disused factory, the failed
business, the idle machine.”
(Martin, 1997, on how medical literature
describes menstruation and menopause)
7. “Objects may even take the shape of the
bodies for whom they are ‘intended,’ in what
it is that they allow a body to do.” (Ahmed,
2006)
8. “The failure of something to work is a matter
of a failed orientation: a tool is used by a
body for which it was not intended, or a body
uses a tool that does not extend its capacity
for action.” (Ahmed, 2006)
10. “You’ll change your mind.”
“We need to preserve the possibility for
fertility.”
“There are so many women who would be
grateful to have even your quasi-fertility.”
“If you care so much about infertility, why
don’t you use your fertility to be a
surrogate?”
11. “Intra-active practices of engagement not
only make the world intelligible in specific
ways but also foreclose other patterns of
mattering. ... Therefore, accountability and
responsibility must be thought of in terms of
what matters and what is excluded from
mattering.” (Barad, 2007)
12. What and who do the technologies of
in/fertility (the medical procedures, the apps,
the discourse) enable to matter and exclude
from mattering?
Editor's Notes
Trigger warning: I consider myself an ally to women for whom infertility is a deeply painful experience, but I realize that my story may be painful to hear for women who don’t share my orientation to fertility. I’m not entirely sure what my fertility status is. I have never wanted children. I had a wonderful and privileged childhood, and I have a wonderful mother. I’ve been in a happy, committed relationship for 11 years. I just don’t see motherhood as part of my identity. But my recent experiences with ovarian cysts has changed how I think about the rhetoric and discourse of fertility, and I want to share my story as a way of adding to—not negating—the important rhetorical work surrounding issues of infertility.
Why this at CW? Technologies as rhetoric (technologies includes procedures, apps, and discourse), intervening in those technologies
August 2013: I had an IUD inserted. I was moving to Seattle to go back to grad school and embark on 15 months of long distance with my partner. It was an emotional time. They were using an ultrasound to check the placement of the IUD and discovered they couldn’t see my uterus at all, because there was this massive fluid-thing blocking it. I was sent to different specialists and originally misdiagnosed with ascites (free fluid in the abdominal cavity, which is a symptom of terminal illnesses like liver failure), and then finally an MRI revealed that it was actually a massive cyst. I thought I’d just been gaining weight (in a really concentrated location) from the stress of moving, but I’d had strangers and friends and family ask me if I was pregnant because I looked pregnant. A week before I moved to Seattle, I had surgery to remove the cyst, which was later determined to be a benign serous cystadenoma. When we discussed the procedure we knew it had to be somewhat exploratory, but never was a fertility test discussed.
To assess tubal patency, a blue dye (methylene blue) is injected into the cavity of the uterus via a special plastic or metal cannula placed in the canal of the cervix. The cannula also allows the surgeon to move the uterus in any direction. If the tubes are patent they first become slightly distended as they fill with the dye. The dye then spills out through the open ends of the tubes into the abdominal cavity.
Menstruation and menopause are forms (however temporary) of infertility, which is often described in medical literature using language of failed production. In advocating for language that does not assume that menstruation is a failure to produce, Martin reminds us that for women who are trying NOT to get pregnant, menstruation is not a failure to produce but simply a thing unto itself.
Ever since the discovery of the serous cystadenoma, I’ve been on high alert regarding even normal follicle cysts, which I get constantly as a side effect of my IUD, Mirena. My doctor has asked me to track the symptoms of those cysts (many of which are hemorraghic and extremely painful) and my cycle, which is all kinds of messed up by the cysts (which usually contain excess hormones in their fluids).
The disco ball of pain (left) and the endlessly confounded period-predicting algorithm (right)
The app (re)orients me, and I reorient the app.
Rhetorics of fertility and experiences of infertility: the language of “failure to produce” damages both women who want to have children but can’t AND women who aren’t sure whether they can have children but don’t want to. I wish we even had a different word from “infertility.”
Rhetorics of fertility and experiences of infertility: the language of “failure to produce” damages both women who want to have children but can’t AND women who aren’t sure whether they can have children but don’t want to. I wish we even had a different word from “infertility.”
Like Maria showed us, the kairotic fertility fairytale tells us that “failure to produce” is a problem for woen
I see this as participating in what Maria described as “recognizing women as agents and advocates of their own health.”