Sexual Molestation and Infertility Have a Surprising Connection
It is difficult to imagine a more agonizing wound for a young girl than being sexually abused, particularly by someone close to her. If she were to do so, it would have a significant influence on her interactions with the rest of the world, and specifically with males.
It is difficult to imagine a greater agonizing wound for most women than the inability to get pregnant as an adult. It results in a great need that can only be satisfied by having a child, and it is accompanied by a wide variety of emotions, including melancholy, hopelessness, and extreme jealousy of other women who are pregnant.
What if these two concerns are intertwined? In other words, what if a history of sexual abuse as a youngster predicts issues with fertility as an adult? According to a ground-breaking piece of study conducted in Israel1, this is precisely the case.
Research on fertility and the trauma of sexual assault is being conducted.
Dr. Ayellet Cohen-Vider, a clinical psychologist in Jerusalem, recently conducted a research of 345 women in which she discovered that women who have been sexually abused are twice as likely as women who have not been sexually assaulted to have infertility issues. When women have what is known as a “self-silencing” subtype of personality, the risk of having an affair climbs even higher, to roughly four times as probable. These are ladies who are hesitant to communicate their wishes and feelings for fear of causing harm to their relationships with others.
Dr. Cohen-Vider conducted follow-up interviews with 24 of the women who had taken part in the survey, in which she inquired about their perceptions of the relationship between being sexually abused as children and their inability to conceive as adults. What did they believe may be the link between the two?
Here are some of the ways in which these ladies expressed their relationship to Dr. Cohen-Vider:
“I have the impression that I have deposits of agony in my body that are not solely my own. And they’re in such large amounts that they just impede my ability to breathe and seal up my apertures.”
“I felt nasty and unclean. I had the impression that I had lost my fertility, that there was something wrong with my libido, and that I was a used woman.”
“I believe I was despondent, and that pregnancy and the womb are indications of life.” It’s creative, and it’s the polar opposite of despair, which is death. It seems like being pregnant is like putting down roots, not simply to live, but to demonstrate that I have faith in the universe and that things can be wonderful.”
There are other serious difficulties addressed by this research, such as the fact that 90 percent of the OBGYNs were unaware that their patients seeking therapy for infertility had histories of sexual molestation. Both women seeking infertility therapy and those who provide it would do well to consider the possibility of a link between the two.
The component of the research that jumps out the most to me is the wisdom of the body and the importance of paying careful attention to it. We understand the psychological and emotional consequences of trauma, but we don’t always know how to listen profoundly to the physical, to the signals of our bodies — in part because a woman whose body has been violated frequently grows alienated from it.
Dr. Cohen-Vider explains that some women may not remember the sexual molestation until after they have given birth, while others have difficulty with the delivery process itself as a result of their history of sexual molestation. These features – the closeness of physical sensations of delivery to a woman’s suppressed memories of sexual molestation agony and suffering – may go a long way toward explaining what seems to be a link between sexual molestation and infertility. Learning to disentangle this knot, as well as learning to listen to and respect the knowledge of the body, might go a long way toward healing the pain of the past and bringing out the pleasure and wonder of new life via pregnancy.
“Child Molestation” is a term used to describe the act of molesting
When you hear these phrases, what comes to mind?
Shock? Disgust? Sadness…? If you’re a victim, though, you’re likely to think of a variety of different terms. Shame. Pain. Guilt. Hatred… There are a lot of victims. According to a UNICEF research, about 53% of children in India have experienced sexual abuse at some point in their life. That almost one in every two Indians has been molested or worse, raped as a youngster. Consider it for a moment. The most revolting aspect of child sex abuse is that the offender is almost always known to the victim.
The most terrifying aspect is that majority of the offenders are of no particular gender, age, or criminal past. A monster might be anybody. We wanted to demonstrate how often this horrible act is in the United States. As a result, we went out to friends and acquaintances throughout India and asked them to share their personal tales anonymously. And they did share. Countless horrible instances of child sexual assault were sent to us by many traumatized adults. We’re going to show you a few of them. Their tales will make you break out in a cold sweat.
1.I had gone to my bua’s (aunt’s) house when I was five years old. As a child, I used to enjoy playing with their constant servant. He was in his eighties. He asked if I wanted to go to a local stable one day. I leaped at the chance and said yes right away since I was a giddy child who loved animals. He led me into the barn and felt me up when we arrived. I had no notion what was going on when I was a youngster. I couldn’t even shed a tear.
Now that I think about it, the episode disgusts me to no end. I was maybe his granddaughter’s age, and he was very elderly. The experience instilled in me a persistent terror of going to my aunt’s house, and I’ve been avoiding it ever since. I even began avoiding my aunt’s boys for fear of them doing the same to me.
2.Brushing is still on on these days. We, as women, have become used to it. This one occurrence, though, was more than simply a blip on the radar. I had recently returned from school and was roughly 17 years old. I was in Class 11 at the time.
When a stranger approached me and said anything, I was nearly home. I ignored him and sped up my steps, sensing that his intentions were nasty. ” Chut degi,” he remarked as he followed me. (Are you going to screw me?) I dashed upstairs, terrified, to my apartment. He pursued me and immediately snatched me from behind. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and he bolted. I went after him, intending to give him a lesson, but he was vanished. I was torn to shreds.
3. I was nine years old at the time. We had gone to my father’s best friend’s house, which we affectionately referred to as tau’s (uncle). He’d returned from a village with one of his cousins. He was dubbed chachu by us. Along with two of my other cousins, I was getting ready to sleep. Chachu came into our room and stated he didn’t have somewhere to sleep, so he sat next to me. He placed one of his hands inside my T-shirt minutes after laying down.
He then pushed it down to my underpants, as if that wasn’t enough. When I got out of bed, I saw him masturbating. Of course, I had no idea what he was up to at the time. I took a seat in a corner of the room and began playing with my toys. He followed me and offered we could play games together if I wanted. When I declined, he said that if I told my parents about it, they would beat me and marry me off. “I am an older cousin of yours.” I recall him stating, “Nothing will happen to me.”
4.We were having supper with some old family friends. When my brother and I walked into his room and saw he had a video game system, we were ecstatic. We wanted to play, but he was preoccupied with something else. He took us on a trip to a neighboring abandoned building, where he led us up the stairs and began talking about heinous sexual activities. We were young and had no idea what he was talking about, so we just laughed. When we returned home, he led us to his room to “play video games.” He stripped us naked and abused us there. No one ever discovered the truth.
I’m a 28-year-old guy now. And everytime I think of what happened to me, my blood boils with guilt and dread. Now all I can do is hope it doesn’t happen to anybody else.
It was the year 2007. I was 17 years old and had just graduated from high school. For a year, I wore braces and had to see a dentist in a small town on a regular basis. That doctor, who was probably in his forties, was continually looking for an opportunity to touch and come near to me. In the evening, I went to his clinic with my uncle. There was no one else in the room save him. My uncle got a call and had to rush to the bus stop to pick up his nephew. As a result, I was alone with the dentist.
His arms crushed on my breasts as he tightened my restraints, and I was powerless to move. I got up from that slanting chair once he finished tightening them, sweating profusely from terror. He utilized one of his devices, a dental suction instrument for drying the mouth, to try to dry my sweaty back while stating, “pasina aa raha hai.” ‘nai nai,’ I whispered softly. I was terrified. I couldn’t call anybody since I didn’t have a phone. Fortunately, his wife and their three children arrived just then. I was glad to see them arrive, and I was startled to see his demeanor shift once they arrived.
6.When this occurred, my sister was around 7 years old. She just told me about it lately, while I was in college. She’d gone to our maasi’s (aunt’s) house, where her first cousin, her son, had abused her. He brought her to the bathroom and attempted to feel her from top to bottom. This occurred every time she visited. She remained silent since it was our own brother!
7.When a courier inquired for a local address, I was ten years old and busy playing near my home. I informed him the route, but he requested that I come over and show him. As I walked down a tight hallway, he approached me and put his fingers inside my underwear. I had no choice but to flee for my life. Since then, I’ve never trusted strangers.
8.My folks got me into a Hostel when I started college. There weren’t many other males my age there. My seniors made up the majority of the attendees. Ragging was something I had mentally prepared myself for. It was just a matter of time until it happened. That is exactly what happened. It was bizarre, terrifying, and embarrassing all at the same time. Countless times, I was requested to undress and do ridiculous activities. But there is one moment in particular that I will never forget. They asked me and another junior to undress at the conclusion of my “initiation.” I was then instructed to sit with my back to his genitals and not to move or turn away. I was baffled as to how this was ragging. I was appalled, but I persevered. When my juniors arrived a year later, my seniors invited me to partake in the “fun.” Those perverts were told to fuck off by me.
9.We were children at the time. She was two years my senior, and her favorite game was ‘Sexy ghar ghar.’ She was always the husband, and I was the wife. While we were playing, she would often kiss me. I was uneasy, but she was also a girl, so I suppressed my discomfort.
She once requested that I put on a skirt and dress up. I wore a blue skirt and a blue shirt with yellow flowers, I recall. She made an attempt to kiss me on the lips. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Until now, I had never informed anybody about it.
10.I was 17 years old at the time. I visited a homoeopathic doctor with my mother since I was sick. I was instructed to come to the corner of the room where a tiny bed was stored because he needed to perform a check-up. He placed the stethoscope over my breasts as I lay down. He put his hand inside my shirt in a matter of seconds. “What the heck are you doing?” I said, stunned. My Mom, who was in the room at the time, was alerted and promptly approached me. We had to leave the location.
11.I was a Class 6 student who used to sit beside a male since that’s how it worked at our school: one boy and one girl were assigned to the same seat. The man sitting next to me placed his hand on my knees while we were in the midst of a scientific lecture. I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, and he was concentrating on the chalkboard. His fingers crept higher towards my thigh, just when I thought it was a mistake. He touched my thigh as he lowered my skirt. I was taken aback. Throughout the remainder of our school years, I avoided him. The jerk had the audacity to send me a Facebook friend request only a few days ago. I permanently blocked him.
12.I was a teenager at the time. Small enough to be unaware of molestation yet large enough to have breasts. When one of my grandfather’s friends came over, I was at home with my mum. He was a dear buddy of his and came to see us often. For a few minutes, my mother went to the house of a neighbor. He came near to hugging me when he discovered I was alone. This wasn’t one of those ordinary embraces. He stood there, clutching my waist and squeezing me. That was the most uncomfortable I’ve ever felt in my whole life. After that, I began to hide whenever he came home.
13.No one ever taught us what a good touch or a terrible touch meant when we were youngsters. Our parents may have assumed that we were always in good hands, but this is not the case. I recall one instance when I was 12 years old and was at a packed market where people couldn’t even move without elbowing each other. A dirty middle-aged guy with grey hair caressed my thigh as I sat in a rickshaw. My ensemble was as ‘suitable’ as they come. I was completely protected. I didn’t have the confidence to speak out. Today, I really wish I had. It had a profound effect on a 12-year-psyche. old’s
14.One of my buddies visited another acquaintance in Bangalore. She was sexually abused by a neighbor who grabbed her boobs late one day. It was clear that it was done on purpose. People in the neighborhood rushed out and began assaulting him when she began yelling. The molester begged for forgiveness on a regular basis. My buddy, who has a kind heart, forgave him. Perhaps forgiving was her method of coping with the pain of the situation. She believes it has had no effect on her. But, based on the shade on her face when she told me this, I believe it has.
This must come to an end!
People who exploit children as playthings for their own perverted objectives, whether they prey on a boy or a girl, are nothing short of monsters who should be punished. The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act (POCSO) was enacted by the Indian Parliament in 2012 to protect children from all forms of harassment. Punishment, however, is insufficient. Constant monitoring and care are essential.
