From the time a girl is born in Jamaica, she is groomed to take on the role of wife and mother. Regardless of her academic accomplishments, a young woman is expected to take on the task of being a matriarch of her own family.

Most secondary education in Jamaica, required girls to take subjects such as cooking, baking, sewing and knitting. The fine arts such as ikebana, macramé and home decoration are taught to girls during the course of their regular studies.

Therefore, it is quite understandable, that once most young women complete their education, they are eager to assume their roles as wife and mother. For some women, these accomplishments are gained quite easily. For others, becoming a parent is nothing short of a dramatic situation.

Infertility is a subject that people in Jamaica don’t talk about easily. It is synonymous to using the word “cancer”. There is a sense of shame or failure associated with the word, so most women do not feel comfortable talking about the subject.

I first became familiar with the topic when I was about 11 years old. Granny and her neighbor were talking about her Granddaughter, Lorna. Granny kept asking the lady how her Granddaughter was doing?

The lady answered, “Sister B, she lost the baby again.”

Granny’s face was overcome with grief and sorrow for this young lady whom she barely knew.

Granny continued, “ Did you tell her to try the Lydia Pinkham? That tonic is a miracle tonic. She needs to take two tablespoons of that everyday, and in no time, Lorna will be holding her little bundle of joy. Her womb is weak, she needs to strengthen it.”
Mrs. Dinkleberry looked at Granny in amazement, “You mean to tell me that the tonic in the little pink box, can do all of that?”

Granny kept on talking, “I’m telling you “Dinkles”, that tonic has been helping women for generations. You know, it seems that most of these young girls nowadays are having a difficult time to conceive. It is not just your child alone. You know, I tell these girls of mine, to stay away from the high heels and the tight jeans and trousers. The high heels only help to twist up their female parts and the tight clothes, cut off their circulation. The poor organs don’t have any breathing room.”

Mrs. Dinkleberry smiled, “You know, Sister B, you may have a point there. If you ever see Lorna in the high heels. She was three months pregnant and wearing three inch heels.

Do you know how many times I urge her to wear sensible shoes?”

Granny shook her head, “It’s a shame, she’s such a sweet girl.”
By this time, I was thoroughly confused about the conversation. These women acted like it was the worst fate ever, not being able to conceive or give birth to a child. One would have thought there was no hope, or that Lorna was pronounced with an incurable illness.
After Granny ended her conversation with Mrs. Dinkleberry, I interjected. I wanted to know more about this subject “I-n-f-e-r-t-i-l-i-t-y” and why it was such a taboo subject. It seemed that women always spelled the word out instead of just discussing it. The topic would be followed by oohs, and aaahhs and ssshushes.

I asked Granny quite candidly, “What is this subject of Infertility? Why is it surrounded with doom and gloom?”

Granny looked at me, as if not sure how to begin explaining, then she started rambling, “I always tell you girls not to go climbing any trees, wear tight clothes or high heels. You know why? All these factors contribute to Infertility. That’s when a woman can’t have a baby.”

“So that makes them sad Granny?”

Granny sighed, “Some women get extremely sad and make it their life’s mission. For instance, do remember Dorcas’s daughter? “

“I think so. The tall, slender girl that used to go to Holy Childhood?”

“Yes. That same one. She had dengue fever when she was young. When she got married, she found out she wasn’t able to have a baby because of the illness. Well, Dorcas and her mother travel the globe seeking all kind of medical help. She was a guinea pig for every new drug and dye they discovered for infertility. Her sojourn for a child almost mad her mad. Eventually she gave up. Then one day, I was talking to her mother and told her about Lydia Pinkham. In less than a year, Dorcas conceived. She had a son. If you ever see that child. He is tall, healthy and strong looking. So that is what I was explaining to “Dinkles”.

I was in awe of this subject. Being a woman seemed complicated and intricate. I was thankful that I was still a minor playing with my dolls.

“Granny, why does God make these things happen to women?”

“Good question Mags. My mother used to say, “God never makes a mistake”. Sometimes not everyone is meant to be a mother. Motherhood is a gift, not meant to be taken lightly.
Some women become mothers by adoption, others by mere happenstance. God has his reasons for everything. Girls are so delicate, they can’t be tossed around and then expected to deliver the “prize cow”.

That is why when my girls became a certain age, I forbade your Grandfather to spank them. Aggravations to the body, can dramatically alter a young woman’s ability to conceive. I am not a Doctor, but women are just made differently. Our bodies cannot endure turmoil and remain completely intact. This is why I am always telling you and your cousins, when sitting, sit down gently. Don’t just plop yourself in a chair, the jolting upsets your body.”

I suddenly realized that all of my Granny’s heedings had meanings behind them. In Jamaica, people always say, “There is a reason for everything”. Well, it took me eleven years to find out why Granny was always scolding, “No tree climbing! No tight clothes and sit down like a nice, demure, young lady!”

She was just looking out for her future generations.

Many people in society look at women who are barren as useless contributors to the World. So much of our culture is based on building families and creating a legacy. Even if women were to accomplish being Leaders of many nations and were unable to conceive or provide an heir, they would be disregarded as inconsequential.
In the Caribbean culture our success in life is gauged by partners and children, regardless of our status in life. Like the Frank Sinatra song goes, “You’re nobody until somebody loves you.” In the West Indies our version of the song would be, “You’re nobody until you have your own family.”

At 11 years old, I became acquainted with a topic that causes a lot of pain and heartache for women, but thanks to my Granny she urged me to believe that with God all things are possible, and while medical science can be helpful, we should never forget to explore the natural resources God has put on this Earth to help us.

Although my Granny’s advice to eat healthy, wear comfortable clothing and not lay our bodies carelessly may seem simple. Her success rate has been phenomenal. Therefore, I’m wagering my bets on Granny’s Old Wives’ Remedies.

Tags: Granny and I tackle the complexity of Infertility