Unadelletante / Oneofmany, the book that gives a face to infertility

Interview with Loredana Vanini, author of Unadelletante / Oneofmany, the book of portraits of 99 women who talk about their infertility without shame and with smiles and beauty.

Thanks to a mutual friend, I had the good fortune and pleasure of meeting Loredana Vanini, a photographer, mother and strong, determined, extremely selfless and generous woman. Loredana is a person who, when you meet her and talk to her, leaves her mark, a positive sign in your heart and soul.

Many times talking together we address the issue of infertility, she because she has experienced it firsthand, I because I have been dealing with this problem for years trying to provide information and give voice and space to couples who suffer from it. We’ve had the opportunity to meet often in recent months, and I’ve followed the many live broadcasts with professional guests in the field of infertility that Loredana interviews almost every day, in her IG channel that I recommend you follow.

We both know how far there is still to go in trying to normalize this term, infertility, which is often experienced not only in solitude but also with so much suffering. This book was created to give a voice to those who have received this diagnosis, to make women and couples feel less alone and to make them rediscover that inner strength which can sometimes be subdued by fear.

How did the idea for this book come about?

My book was born out of the frustration of feeling embarrassed about my infertility. In addition to the damage also the insult. Not only could I not conceive in the privacy of the bedroom but I suddenly felt old, dry, unfeminine. And alone .

One cold February afternoon, I entered a large bookstore in the center of Rome, intent on finding something to ease those feelings, and instead I read titles that weighed me down even more. I went home empty handed. Some time later, waiting for my number to be monitored in the clinic, I realized that within two months there were about 600 women who had arrived after me. Only two months. Where are you? But why can’t I talk to anyone vis a vis? Why is this omertà hovering? Why in the clinic they don’t call us by name but they give us a number? It’s not like that at the dentist, there’s no question of privacy. And why in an infertility clinic yes? Should I be ashamed of something and therefore they protect me by using a number instead of my name?

I thought it would be nice to put your face on it.

I thought it would have been much nicer if there were many of us who put our faces on it, all without shame. Anyone who would have picked up this collection of photos would have seen the faces and read the stories, and she would no longer feel alone.

Why did you choose the title “Unadelletante/Oneofmany”?

I had a small portion of portraits in hand and I was explaining to a friend what the driving force behind this project was, and he asked me if I had already thought of a name. I answered no. I told him I didn’t want anything special or too emphatic, that my wish was to make the infertile woman feel less unfortunate and different , but to make her understand that she was just one of many of her. She is one of many. She came out like this, chatting with someone who doesn’t even want her children.

What struck you about the women you met to carry out this project?

I photographed 100 women in southern and northern Italy, and I went to England where I portrayed women of different ethnic groups. Some felt they were making a heroic gesture by posing for me, others did it with total ease. Who cried talking to me about her pain, and who was proud to fight to find what would have been her son. Something different struck me about each one. But there was one element that united us all. They told each other without filters or half terms as if we already knew each other. Our very personal experience with infertility is the same as that of Ilaria and Francesca and Simona. Even if the causes are different, when we look in the mirror and see that term printed on our forehead, we are all the same.

What has infertility taught you?

It taught me the art of consistency . To look down, without too many illusions, continuing to pedal, concentrating on one effort after another. She taught me to smile even when it was just crying, because I wanted to be a happy woman first and foremost . Then a mother.

What message do you want to leave to people like you who have experienced or are experiencing infertility?

I would like to give an advice in a low voice. Without belittling anyone’s pain. Do everything you can to have your child, for as long as you feel like it, as long as you have the strength you go like a train, but in the meantime you live. Breathe, enjoy a beautiful sunny day, a movie, music, a chat with a friend, a warm hug. Be generative, knead, paint, cook, study. Search for your child by always being on the move and never canceling yourself.