Reactions, Positivity, and Understanding

While visiting my friends and family in America (some with children, some with grandchildren, some without any), it was interesting to see people's reactions, responses, and comments if I chose to share my current struggle with infertility. I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with this situation - A bottle of wine in each hand? Mimosas every day at breakfast? How do you respond to a topic that consumes you when you're home but that is so difficult to discuss?

As I had guessed most people brought up the topic with me quite quickly. With more than five years of marriage, a new home and low-stress job, it looks like the perfect set-up for a family. As they eyed my very full wine glass, they would inquire, "So, are you thinking about starting a family?" and I would choose my response carefully. Usually something like, "Yep, we are trying pretty hard, but no luck so far!" Humor can make any topic seem normal. 

I had expected some of the normal responses for someone who is trying-but-not-succeeding: At least you're young! It'll happen when the time's right! Maybe you should adopt! You know all the ones I'm talking about. I had prepared myself for them as well, and mostly let them slide right over me without taking them to heart. No one is trying to be hurtful with their comments. People don't know how to react to a situation they have never encountered. They want to give advice, they want to give hope, they want you to be happy and positive and make THEM feel comfortable. And I get it - infertility is a pretty uncomfortable topic. Society has made it very taboo to talk about reproduction, and I also believe the explicit details of my journey are a private topic for trusted close friends and family (except, apparently, on this all-too-public blog, but that's something else entirely).  

So for a lot of my interactions with friends and family while on my visit to America, I lied. Instead of sharing how I really feel most of the time (hopeless, frustrated, angry, inadequate, and more...), I pulled on my brave-face mask and echo their sentiments and hide my real thoughts.  For the most part, people don't want to hear that you are not okay. They want the easy, comfortable, sanitized version. They want me to be positive and joyful like I normally am towards difficult situations in life. I can't really blame them, everyone has enough of their own troubles in their life - why do they need mine too?

One friend, however, really surprised me. Instead of a cliché comment, advice, reassurance, or positivity, she offered support and understanding. Instead of rushing to tell me how, "I would get there someday," or "It would all be alright," or telling me about her roommate's cousin's sister with PCOS who miraculously had a baby - she commiserated with me. 

"You must be so frustrated"
"It might never happen, I'm so sorry."
"I know what it's like to go through something difficult. I'm here if you ever need to talk about it"

And for that moment, I didn't feel like I was hiding behind a mask or pretending to be the sunny, positive, shiny me. I could just share my real thoughts and put everything out there on the table. I felt so free for the moment. When we said goodbye I gave her several big hugs. I don't think she even realized how important that conversation was for me. 

Everyone deals with infertility in their own way, and I don't think there is one right way to do it. I just know showing understanding and compassion instead of rushing to slap on a band-aid can do wonders for someone like me. And if you're reading this and struggling too - I understand, and I'm sorry for your frustration and difficulty. 

Friends and Infertility

This past week I was very lucky to be able to fly to Switzerland to visit my old friends, colleagues, and students. It had been ten months since my last visit, and everything seemed to have stayed the same, even though I have changed. I spent my days rushing from one place to another, trying to squeeze everyone in, and all in all I think I succeeded. By the end of the six days I was exhausted and coming down with a cold (typical of my time there!).

Do you ever take a step back from your life and really examine the friends and acquaintances who fill it? Leaving Switzerland allowed me this option, and this trip back highlighted the friends I can rely on and trust, and the friends who are too wrapped up in their own lives to pay attention to others. 

Many of my friends wanted to hear about my big round-the-world trip. Most asked how the life and job in my new home were. Some of my friends wanted to know how I was doing - was I settling in okay? Was I making friends? Was I happy? Even fewer friends were interested (and then very supportive) about this new struggle I am working through. It felt like such a relief to talk about it with some real, live, people (not just my lovely husband!). Friends who know who I am and what I want most, friends who comfort me and tell me I can call anytime, no matter what. I can count these friends on one hand, and that's okay.

Other friends were too busy telling me about their own life/work/pregnancy/baby to actually have a conversation with me. It's not that I need to bitch and moan all day, or go on and on about everything related to me - but this is a part of my life, a big part, and if you're truly my friend it's probably better if you know at least a little bit about what's happening in it. Some of my "friends" never took a moment to ask.

Of course one of the hardest parts about visiting so many people were the near-constant comments about how it was time to start a family with my big, family home and family-centered neighborhood. I tried to fend this one off by always holding a glass (or a bottle) of wine. When I mentioned we're trying, and that it's taking longer than we'd like, of course I got the whole range of unhelpful remarks:

"It'll be your turn soon"
"Oh just relax, it'll happen"
"Enjoy your life while you have it!"
"You're so young"
"Insert every other insensitive comment you can think of - I'm sure I heard it this weekend"

And if the person I was talking to was someone I regarded as being a close friend, and I confided the actual situation I was in, then usually out came the stories...

"My uncle's cousin's niece had PCOS and she had 3 kids!"
"I had a colleague whose daughter had endo and she got pregnant!"
"So and so tried for years and then when she stopped trying she got pregnant right away!"
"There was a girl a work who adopted and then she was pregnant with twins!"
"Insert your own story of some random person who got pregnant even though it was difficult"

I'm not sure if these stories help me or make me feel worse. I think people tell them because they want to give me hope. But that person in the story and their problems (even if they have PCOS or endo), will never be the same as me and mine. What worked for them might not work for me, or for any other woman for that matter. There is no magic infertility pill. It almost feels like salt in a wound - look at these women who can get pregnant despite their problems and you can't! Unless it was someone who is currently struggling with infertility, or has struggled in the past, it seemed people just didn't know how to react.  

Overall I think I came back from my trip with a better idea of the friends I could trust, the friends I would continue to talk to, and the friends I would no longer put in the effort with. I think it's important to know who those real friends are, as they can help lighten your load and remind you that no matter what you are going through, you aren't alone. 

Saying Congratulations! (Without a Breakdown)

When you're struggling with your own infertility, one of the hardest moments is finding out a friend is pregnant. This is likely to happen over and over again, since your friends are normally a similar age to you. The longer you struggle with infertility, the more of your friends and acquaintances will seem to fall pregnant around you - they will be everywhere. For me, I've had 7 close friends announce their baby news in the last 9 months, and countless more acquaintances. 

The second hardest moment is saying, "Congratulations, I'm so happy for you!" without breaking down into tears. 

I think one of the reasons this is so difficult to deal with is the fact that very few people share their baby-making plans, their struggles, their disappointments, their frustration, and their sadness. So many women who are trying to fall pregnant wear a mask on the outside, and keep these personal details to themselves. I completely understand - deciding to start a family and then the actual trying is quite personal. It might look like I'm being very open about my struggle through this blog, but keep in mind that I haven't shared the link here to any of my "real life" friends. If you're reading this, chances are we've never met each other. So yes, I'm sharing, but anonymously, because writing helps me work through my emotions.

Because people are so quiet about their struggles, it might seem that everyone becomes pregnant so easily, without trying, without intervention, without pain or loss. This is not always the case - remember 1 in 8 couples face infertility. That's a lot of people out there that it didn't just happen for.

One of my friends just called me this morning to let me know her happy news before I arrived for my visit. I managed to say the "Congratulations!" without crying (go me!), and I really did mean it. I remember years ago speaking with her about having kids, and she wasn't sure she's be able to have them due to her age. On the phone she confided that they had been trying for years, had suffered through a miscarriage, and were about to take the next steps with medical intervention when they got their miracle baby. If she hadn't shared this information, it would have been easy to view her as just another pregnant friend. Instead, she helped take a bit of the sting out of her announcement and I am truly happy she is on her way to motherhood after everything she's gone through. I wish I had known sooner so I could have offered her support.

Remembering that everyone has their own struggles can help ease the pain of finding out yet another friend is pregnant. It's a long, hard road we are walking, and we are not alone.