moosh in indy.

August 24, 2010

There isn’t much else out there like infertility. There’s no outward signs of it, it is both isolating and humiliating, many times there’s no logical explanation for it and most of all? Everyone has their own opinions on it.

“Don’t give up hope!”

“You worry about it too much, just relax, it will happen!”

“I had this one friend who couldn’t get pregnant and then…!”

Those of us who are left with no babies have learned to smile through these comments. Or at least stuff the pain in our hearts that results from hearing these comments deep down where they won’t offend those naive enough to say such things. Other times we turn to our most trusted girlfriends or partners and we rant, rave and cry through the reminder that something about our parts doesn’t work right.

It is a right and a priviledge as a woman to bear children. Sure boys can pee standing up, but we? WE CAN MAKE PEOPLE. Well, some of us can. And when that ability to make people is taken away? We’re left feeling like this strange middle gender, with boobs and periods, but no babies and certainly unable to pee standing up.

Knowing that my body worked at least once, that it made a perfect little person adds to the frustration. Imagine banging your head against a wall over and over. Finally a million dollars falls out of the wall. Hooray! Of course you’re going to keep banging your head against the wall, of course it hurts and it’s frustrating and it consumes your every thought, but for the chance at another million dollars? BANG BANG BANG! And no matter how much anyone explains how illogical it is to keep banging, or maybe to try another “get a million dollars” tactic, you’re going to keep banging until YOU are ready to stop.

Although I’m not sure anyone is ever really capable of stopping. The urge to try that wall just one more time…maybe this time it will work…that urge will always nag, somewhere.

Silly little things can set off the deep stabbing hurt of infertility. The swollen belly of a stranger, a facebook status update, filling out Kindergarten admission papers and having to leave the “other siblings” column empty, even buying a new car.

There isn’t much I can say about infertility that hasn’t already been said by other brilliant voices on the topic throughout the Internet.

But I can say this.

I have braved the trenches of the completely hideous emotions that result from the bitterness and anger that I allowed to overtake my heart and mind when I was deep in them. I was blinded by jealousy and anger. Some of the more mild thoughts were “Why her and not me?” ”She can’t even take care of the other kid she has.” then they became more intense “Another one? Really? Does she even realize her other kids aren’t that great?” to the worst, I was actually happy when someone had a miscarriage.

Me.

Happy about a miscarriage.

“That’ll show her! Teach her to talk about her pregnancy so much!”

I’m ashamed that I ever allowed a thought like that to pass through my mind. I don’t care how much I hurt at the time, her pain was not about me. It never will be. The Casey who thought those thoughts deserved to lose friends. She was going rotten from the inside out.

Any difficult life situation will cause unavoidable thoughts to pop up in someones head. And just as we can’t keep a bird from landing on our head, we can very well keep it from making a nest while it’s there.

To those of you who have to watch a friend struggle with infertility, the truth is that there isn’t much you can do aside from be a friend. You will never be able to fix her (well, unless you’re a brilliant, brilliant doctor or a genie) but you can listen. Understand that there will be times when your friend is ticked off, but it’s not about you. And there comes a point where if she makes it about you? You need to set her straight. It’s not your fault you can get pregnant and she can’t. You shouldn’t have to change who you are or what your dreams and goals are in life to accommodate the ugly and hurt feelings of another. I can promise you that it’s hard as hell to work through a relationship where this is an issue, but in the end? It’s worth it.

To you others dealing with infertility, especially if you’re in an ugly place, don’t alienate your friends. It’s not their fault if they can and choose to get pregnant. Imagine if your positive test finally came and you called your friend up. How would you want her to react? Angry and distant because you finally got what you wanted? The truth is, your closest friends, and many others around you aren’t afraid of difficult pregnancies or what their insurance will and won’t cover. They aren’t worried about where a baby will fit into their lives and schedules, they are worried about telling you. They are scared to death of hurting you. They are frightened that they are going to lose you as a friend.

So they keep it a secret from you for as long as possible. Sometimes you find out from other sources and the hurt is magnified. But they didn’t keep it a secret from you to hurt you, they kept it a secret because they didn’t want to hurt you.

No matter when you hear it, it is going to hurt. I’m sorry, it is. But the amount of time it hurts will lessen and dull, and eventually jealousy and hurt won’t even be your first reaction. Please don’t take it out on your friend, they will hopefully understand that you may need some time to work through your emotions, work through them as best you can and support her as best you can, you would want (and dare I say expect) the same if the roles were reversed.

As for the friend facing that phone call to tell someone that you’re pregnant? You’re going to have to take a Band-Aid approach. Do it quick. Yes. Your friend is going to feel it. Sorry about that. Remember it’s not your fault. But trust me when I say writing that email or making that call when you think about it is much better than her finding out weeks later through a friend of a friend, because that’s the equivalent of pulling that bandage off millimeter by millimeter, hair by hair.

Infertility is just another thing that we’re all going to have to learn to get along on. Rarely, if ever, is anyone ever going to understand both sides. Love, patience, understanding and forgiveness are all going to have to be at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

Cupcakes, fruity drinks with umbrellas and stupid movies with vampires don’t hurt either.

Comments off.

Casey, I love you so much my heart hurts.

XOXOOXOXOXOXXOXO

Dear, sweet Casey. There just seem to be so many different ways to make it hurt to be a human being. I am so sorry that that one has been visited on you. But that said, your sweet little daughter is so very lucky to have you – and you to have her. I wish you Peace.

Dear Casey – I am a constant “lurker”-but I have only commented one time. This post just makes me ache for you. Life is so unfair. You and Cody are GREAT parents to Moosh and would be great parents to many more. You look around and see all of these people who shouldn’t even be having kids have a dozen. After our miscarriage – it took me 6 months of trying to get pregnant again (to you, I am sure this seems like about 5 minutes, but to me it was an ETERNITY)-although I can’t claim to understand what you are going through, this 6 months gave me a tiny “view”-and it was absolutely awful. I became bitter and hateful. I lost friendships, I hurt people and they hurt me, and I even began avoiding situations where I might see a pregnant stranger. You are so strong. I wish and pray that you will get or have another child-but no matter what, I just want you to be as happy and satisfied as possible. Thanks for being you!

I am one of the few who understands both sides. Years of infertility and then, like magic, my parts started to realize what they were there for. Three children later and I still vividly recall the ache and the pain of not having them. I understand what it feels like when I have had to tell and infertile friend that I was pregnant (finally!) (again!). I’m so sorry you have to go through this, Casey. I wish I could take your pain away. But I am glad that you have reached a detente of sorts with it. It’s the only way to forge ahead. Love you.

Hi Casey. I don’t think I’ve ever commented here before but I feel compelled today. My best friend confided to me recently that she has been TTC her first baby for 9 months. I think I might have said some of those dumb things I shouldn’t have. I know she feels some of the things you described here. I just wanted to thank you for opening my eyes a little bit to her perspective so I can be a better friend to her on this journey. Thank you.

Fellow infertile here. You said that so perfectly.

I am moving to Indy in March… I kinda want to be your friend.

A well written post, thank you for sharing your perspective on this. My thoughts are with you…

I’m in a weird in-between place where we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a year now, with no babies, but I’m not quite ready to admit that there’s a problem & seek medical help for it. I believe one might call this denial? I keep chalking it up to “oh, bad timing, better luck next month.” Or my personal favorite: “Dave just quit smoking 2 months ago, I’ll bet that’s what was slowing down his swimmers!” (It helps that I have a cartoon visual for this, of strong healthy clear-lunged sperm versus the gray-faced sickly sperms puffing on cigarette butts and coughing. It makes it more fun for me to think of it that way.)

Meanwhile, it seems like almost everybody I know is suddenly pregnant or has just had a baby. It’s starting to get to me. But I still don’t want to go talk to my doctor about it. Ridiculous, right? But there you have it.

Thank you for taking the time to write this. As a very fertile woman with too many friends struggling with infertility, this post is helpful and eye-opening. I appreciate that you have humbled yourself and admitted to your own missteps in this difficult situation and shared how we can all try to walk our friends through it. Thank you!

I wish I could hug you…these words…just yes.

My son just turned 13. It’s been 4 years since we found out we wouldn’t be able to have another baby without IVF. We couldn’t afford IVF, had no insurance coverage for it, so that was the end of trying. My friends were well aware of our struggles and asked about us often. At our monthly dinner where I was going to tell them we were officially done, there were two pregnancy announcements at the table. Ouch.

There are moments when I actually feel like I’m okay, that I’ve finally made peace with it. But then, out of nowhere, I’m heartbroken all over again – the thought that there will be no more children, that my son will have no siblings… it just can’t be right.

Thanks for this post. I hope a lot of people see it.

1. I love how you use BANGING your head against a wall as a metaphor for trying to conceive. I snickered every time you wrote “bang”. Yes, I am a teenaged boy trapped in a woman’s body.

2. I believe that this will bring you some comfort: http://www.go-girl.com/

3. Hugs to you.

Hugs to you Casey!

You are very brave to share what many hold in. Thank you.

Fellow infertile here – you are such a gifted writer. Thank you for sharing. I think I’m finally at peace with it, but every once in a while, someone says something like “it took us SO LONG to conceive” and on and on about how difficult it was, I just want to curl up and cry. Or punch them in knee caps. They have no idea. Incredibly comforting to hear from someone who does. Thank you again.

Beautiful post.

Thank you, friend, for sharing your heart.

I know you’ve helped many on both sides with this post, especially me. My heart hurts for you and my other friend going through so much pain for a gift that seems so rightfully yours.

I will be sharing this post with many.

Love you.

You dove down deep for this. Thank you for sharing with the world and helping people on both sides of this experience to understand the other.

as i fellow infertile (sterile, really), i concur that infertility is one of the most painful things i have ever been asked to do.

however, the silver lining is the deep connection i feel with others that know this same hurt.

xoxo

I have been in that dark ugly place. I felt the same things you just wrote. Two days after my last d&c, I figured out my closest friend was pregnant. I was still really from my SIXTH miscarriage in 4 years, when she admitted she was indeed pregnant with her sixth baby. I basically hung up on her. I had to run. I sobbed and raged. It wasn’t fair, dammit. I wasn’t fair to her. Just yesterday I found out another friend was pregnant. I dealt better. But God it stings. We are not trying anymore after the hormone mess this has all caused a cancer scare. Infertility weighs so heavy on me. My heart hurts that any woman has to face this. Hugs to you Casey.

You get it. How I wish I could just send everyone that doesn’t get it to this post right here. Thank you friend.

HUGS, just lots & lots of hugs.

Thank you so much for posting this.

I have a friend going through this same thing right now and reading this all helps A LOT. I knew how she was feeling but sometimes it’s hard to know what to say or do. Also, I’m sorry you’re having to go through this.

Casey, your words are a light in the darkness for so many women, struggling amidst the pain and anger of infertility. I’m so sorry. I don’t understand, but I pray for you often and hope your prayers are answered…whatever they may be. Your strength and humility are staggering and inspiring, and I can only hope to be as beautiful and honest a soul as you someday. Thank you for being you and sharing your life with us.

After 7 years of nothing, we got a loan from our bank to try IVF. We were blessed to have twins on the first try. The pain never completely goes away…

oh casey. my dear, dear casey. thanks for this and for the email. i needed both.

As someone with one hard-won child and a string of miscarriages after, I think the head banging analogy is perfect. Thanks for putting words to my hard-to-describe reason for still continuing to try. I filled out those school papers today and had the same twinge.

Casey, I think more people think those same thoughts, but unlike you, wont’ admit that they do. It’s human. I didn’t say it was pretty, or right, but it is human.

Huge hugs to you, doll. You are a beautiful, brave woman.

Thank you for this post. I feel like I’m ridiculous for feeling like I identify, because I have two amazing kids, but I’ve been hoping to have another for quite some time now… so maybe I do understand. A little. I know I have no idea what many go through, and so yeah, I feel some guilt over it as well (the inner dialogue goes something like this: “You have two awesome kids! Don’t be so greedy and ungrateful!” And yet lately it seems like everyone else is pregnant, and when people say, oh, you only have two? (this in a town of mostly very large families), I feel frustrated and just sad). Regardless – thanks for this.

Thanks for this. Every day I need a reminder that I’m not alone. This served as one today.
I hate that infertility has lead me to dread seeing old friends, stop enjoying holidays or even hesitate when picking up the phone.
I know one day I’ll come to peace w/ being a two-person family, after all I love my husband dearly … but until then, ouch.
Thanks again and you’re not alone either. Never.

Hey! Poppin’ in from ashley’s blog, great post! I definitely agree that you can’t blame your friends for being fertile myrtles…I’ve struggled with envy, and even similar guilt with being happy over a miscarriage…I’ve never felt more disgusted with myself! There definitely needs to be more sympathy on both sides!

As usual, you describe in words the thoughts of my heart, Casey. I try very hard to make sure my friends know they can be open with me about their pregnancies, despite the fact that I might not talk to them much during those first few weeks while I am getting over my jealous anger.

I am happy for them of course, but it’s a reminder of how painful it is for me and how lucky they really are.

tears are falling [at work]. love you

I can identify with this on 2 levels.

#1 – Like you, I suffered from secondary infertility. I had 2 babies and when we tried for the 3rd…I could NOT get pregnant. For years. I have PCOS. We did this drug and that method and so on. Finally I gave up. Started looking into adoption. A month before starting the process I “accidentally” ended up pregnant. My point here is don’t give up hope. Not to tell you to relax. And certainly NEVER the “can’t you be happy with the kids you have”. That is a knife to the womb. Just don’t give up hope. Hugs to you.

#2 – I have a friend who, today, is getting a forced miscarriage for an ectopic pregnancy. It hurts. For her because she also lost a baby last year at five months gestation after trying for 13 years. For me because I don’t know what to say. Or do. 2 babies gone in a years time. We’ve been friends for 20 years, and things come naturally for us. Not this. This is uncharted. I wish I knew how to be super awesome friend for her.

um. sorry for the novel. guess i had words stored up.

I have struggled telling people that we are having trouble getting pregnant. It is sooo hard to see soo many woman pregnant in the fertile world of mormonville.

I struggle every day with wanting to feel a life inside me. I am seeing a new infertility Dr. and have been recently diagnosed with PCOS. and hoping that the new meds will help me become pregnant.

My heart goes out to all the amazing woman who can’t have the babies they want or need.

hugs

So the twelve year old boy that lives in my head actually snickered out loud – in the office no less – at the BANG BANG BANG! line. (I know you were talking about your head and a wall) Been banging a lot lately? See, I can’t quit! Geez….

I’m glad to have read this — thank you for sharing your heart, your words.

Casey, my girl.
i love you so dearly.
You write so beautifully, my friend.
I have nothing but this.. I love you.

i love your soul. love it.

Thank you for writing this. My sister is currently trying to conceive and has just started taking fertility drugs (if this doesn’t work, who knows what the next step is). It pains me to see her hurting when her friends are getting pregnant all around her (especially the “oopses”) – I haven’t known what to say, and I haven’t wanted to say the wrong thing… so I’ve said nothing.

And that doesn’t feel right either.

Thanks for this post, Casey.

Your friends are very, very lucky to have you. Beautiful.

I’ve never gone through this, I’ve never tried to have a baby. But I can relate to all my friends being pregnant and having babies and I not being even in a relationship with the goal of getting married to then have a baby at some point, so I sort of understand where you’re coming from on the friendship bit.
I’m sorry you’re going through this, it sucks to not be able to have what one wants, especially if it’s our own body impeding it. Hugs.

i know i don’t have the right words to give you comfort – i do know to some extent the pain and anguish that you feel. i suffered with infertility…all the tests, surgeries, counts..and all that good stuff for several years…only to find ‘nothing’ wrong with me or my husband – i always wished that they’d find something/anything wrong…so it could be fixed…..then THANKFULLY i had my daughter-a clomid baby in 1990. PERFECT…NOTHING IS WRONG..I CAN DO THIS…i started trying again when my daughter was 2…i went on clomid again for several rounds (more than i/or anyone should go through) i can remember when my daughter was 3-4-and 5 years old – she was begging/PRAYING for a sibling SO.HARD. i remember feeling so inadequate and terrible that i couldn’t give that to my daughter.. i remember that horrific feeling – of longing for a baby…a sibling for my girl. i did grow up as an only child, and did not want my girl to grow up like that. i prayed…and i PRAYED that i could give my daughter a sister or brother -and i do remember vividly (whether you have this belief or not) that God spoke to me one night (one night when i was feeling tremendous dispair) – and the message i heard was to be patient, it will happen WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT. I did hear that message..and i DID try to believe. i somewhat calmed down after that….but never really-fully could relax and trust, although i desperatley wanted to. like i said earlier when my daughter was 2 i started back on clomid and did that for several months with no luck… then the dr. put me on daily fertility shots. this went on for a while – (every other month) although it seemed like a LONG while. that month after month after month disapppointment is so very hard to take. i had all the tests done (TWICE)…the dye tests, the laparoscomy’s, the biopsy’s..my husband’s counts….all that good stuff i know you’ve gone through. i did get a positive pregnancy test one month when my daughter was about 6…much to my amazement and happiness…all was good for a few weeks….we ‘saw’ the heartbeat through a vaginal ultrasound..so all was good for a short time..then i miscarried. i just COULD.NOT make myself go through that anymore. i wanted to be ‘normal’ again..meaning – not worrying each month about whether or not i’m pregnant..then to have EVERY month bring more disappointment. i had done that for FIVE + years – my daughter was 7 – and i just couldn’t do it anymore – and i gave up ‘trying’..i took a full time job, that paid for me to take classes in learning more of the legal profession…and about one month later – OF NOT OBSESSING…my period was late. i took a test – and much to my disbelief…it was positive. for YEARS people had been telling me to relax..not think about it…YEAH..RIGHT – that’s not so EASY to do. that is ALL that is on your mind…ALL.THE.TIME.
BUT…now – after all my struggles, i maybe do conceed to think that all those people may be on to something. i hate to write it, say it, or even hear it…but HONESTLY..it really did work for me.

I know exactly what you’re feeling: the pain, the disappointment each and every month reminding you that you can’t get pregnant. Married 10 years and your younger brother and sister are having children of their own.

After 10 years I had an emergency and total hysterectomy. We still wanted children so we decided to adopt. I thank the Lord for those unwed mothers who realize that their unwanted child is really a child very much wanted by someone.

you are such a thoughtful, lovely soul.

Love.
And love.
And more love.

to you.
from me.

Thank you for your side. Much love

I tend to distance myself from pregnant and newborn-having people. Not for good, just for a few months. Because I get those thoughts, too. It’s hard for me to feel joy and excitement for someone knowing how disappointed I became so quickly. I don’t want to be a downer in their lives because I learned that things don’t always go according to plan. facebook is an amazing filter for friendships going through this. I simply “hide” the pregnant folk from my feed so I don’t see their updates. Occasional messages let them know I’m thinking about them. Once their kid is past the newborn phase, it’s a little easier for me to take interest. May be a coward’s way of dealing with it, but it works.

Gorgeous post. I love you with the burning instensity of a thousand suns. And you can ALWAYS rant to me about this stuff and I will strive valiantly to say the least stupid thing possible. I got your back, girl!

thank you for this post. i’ve walked in the shoes of infertility…hardest thing i’ve ever had to do.

my heart hurts for you. may you find the strength to keep enduring.

I don’t know how to say this without sounding rude but it needs to be said because no one ever said it to me. It IS okay to be infertile. It’s okay. It doesn’t make you any less of a woman or a wife or a mother. It doesn’t make you any less of a person.

My infertility sucks. But it doesn’t define me. It doesn’t even bother me most days. Sure, would I love to make a baby with my husband? Absolutely. But do I let it consume me? No.

I have two beautiful, wonderful, amazing daughters. We’re working on adding two lovely, sweet, marvelous sons. It requires a lot of money and paperwork instead of a lot of dirty fun time, but adopting our kids is the best thing we’ve ever done.

Adoption isn’t the answer for infertility and it isn’t the answer for every family. But allowing yourself to be defined by your ability or inability to grow a person is silly. Women are SO MUCH MORE than our reproductive organs.

Infertility sucks. But it doesn’t have to suck away your life too.

Hearts you. If I said anything while staying with you a few weeks ago, it was out of love and out of the fact that I hope beyond hope beyond hope for you to have another little baby every single day. I just don’t want you to ever give up on that hope okay? That is what best friends do, never let you give up hope. exes and ohs.

I’m a fellow infertile, who just had a baby last year. Many of the things you wrote are thoughts that I have had from time to time. I am glad you are someone who is gifted enough to express these thoughts so eloquently! I have a best friend who was there for me as my hubby and I tried and tried and tried and sometimes started to succeed, then failed again. She never said much about it, but always listened and let me know she was praying for me. I for some stupid reason, held a grudge against her for having 2 babies in the time it took me to get one. I want to scream when I think of the thoughts that went through my mind sometimes…I won’t mention what they were, but I’m glad God forgives! How could I have been so dumb? She always said “I just know you are going to have a baby!” I hated that. But, I like what Kim Orlandini had to say above, “That is what best friends do, never let you give up hope.” That is what she was trying to do for me, she wanted me to have hope, and tried to offer it in any way she knew how because she loved me and wanted to see me happy. I was just ignorant and selfish… I see that now. You are right when you say “Rarely, if ever, is anyone ever going to understand both sides.”

Such a wonderful post — expressing so well what those of us who have infertility struggle with and so helpful for those around us who are not infertile so that they get a glimmer of understanding of how we are feeling and how to handle us. I could never tell them as well. Two things — please don’t be upset with yourself for what goes through you mind, you can’t stop that, you can just ensue it flits through without lodging in and festering The other is for the fertile crowd — for me, advance notice BY EMAIL was great — that way I could process the news and my reaction at my speed in my house so that when I saw the pregnant person I was able to show only the part of me that was happy. I also totally understood when my cousin who had just had a late miscarriage sent me an e-mail when my daughter arrived from overseas that said how happy she was for me and that she couldn’t talk to me for a while. It took a while for her to be able to talk, but she stayed in touch via e-mail and we are fine now.

You are such an amazing writer Casey, and as always, thank you for being brave enough to share your stories, happy times and heartaches. You give a lot of people comfort who may be suffering too but don’t know how to put their feelings into words. By giving them a voice, their pain is validated and they know they’re not alone. I know I’ve said this before, but I may not understand exactly what you’re going through, but I can definitely relate in a different way. I sincerely wish and hope we all can find what we are definitely deserving of. Love you.

Beautifully written. Even though I have no idea whether I am fertile or not, adoption has been my means to motherhood. I could feel the wounds you talked about. I have thought some of those ugly things, too. We are sure learning how to mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice, aren’t we?? Thank you for sharing this post! <3

I, too, am ashamed to say that I felt relief when a friend lost a baby.

After losing two pregnancies back to back – I couldn’t take it that the ENTIRE WORLD was pregnant. I didn’t want my friends to stop having babies, I just wanted them to get pregnant in a few months down the road. I was beyond depressed and when a friend lost a baby (after close to a year of trying), I actually felt relief.

Relief at not having to attend a baby shower, relief at not having to pretend excitement, relief at not having to look at ultrasound photos that weren’t mine, relief at wanting to feel excited – but not really being excited.

That was a low point for me too. I think it was right around that time that I turned off the crazy switch in my head.

Anyway, it is comforting to read that someone else had a similar feeling, followed by the extreme guilt/shame of feeling that way.

One other note – the day I started spotting with my first loss was the day my dearest friend received a positive test result. I remember thinking “How are we going to make it through this?!”

She spent 9 months trying to pretend she wasn’t pregnant and not totally enjoying her pregnancy. At the time, I was thankful – now I sort of feel like, because of my losses and deep depression and her desire to make me feel ok, I cheated her out of the magic of her second healthy pregnancy…

The best gift a friend can offer to someone struggling with infertility is to listen with your heart…

i will keep banging my head against the wall until another million falls out…and hope this time it stays. sending you baby dust on this journey that we are on together.

My heart goes out to you. My husband and I weren’t done with having children when my doctor told me that my body couldn’t carry another baby to term nor could he guarantee that I would make it through another pregnancy. Compound that with finding out that I had pre-cancerous growths in my uterus that required a hysterectomy when I was 29. I pray that God gives you the desire of your heart. Hugs to you.

you are absolutely amazing.
absolutely.

i’m sorry for your hurt.
and i’m elated for your self-awareness.

you’re an amazing writer, and friends are lucky to know you and all of your perspectives.
i know you have worked hard to get where you are.
so kudos to you.

oh, and— you’re a fantastic photographer with an adorable little girl!

It’s like I wrote this post myself. Secondary infertility here after 2 healthy babies. Three years trying. Three MC’s, 2 D&Cs, Asherman’s Syndrome as a result, another surgery… Everyone around me was pregnant. Having babies. And getting pregnant. And having babies. The depression. You can’t find your way out…

And then … it happened. I got pregnant. The WORST pregnancy. So many drugs. So many shots. So much pain. Living overseas, but sent back to the US due to complications. And Transfusions. And stress. An early delivery.

I know your pain. I lived it. I’m so sorry.

I’m just so tired of the monthly creaking caravan ride up the old tracks on my personal increasingly rickety roller-coaster of a reproductive system. Will I get to throw my hands up and rejoice this month? Won’t I?

And the kindergarten checkmark for zero siblings. Yep. That sucked. Just checked it last week. It stung like I never would’ve imagined, so I did it reallyreally quick and tried to pretend I hadn’t read it after that. Like it wasn’t a question on the sheet at all. Like my ache was from reading about the vaccination list and the dates and how hard it is to believe the first ones occurred five years ago.

Etc.

So very sorry you’re going through this. I wish everyone could read this who is either going through infertility or knows someone who is so that they ‘get it’ from both sides. Beautifully expressed. Sending love to you.

It sucks. I remember when my little sister got pregnant, and then again, and I was just getting older. After much money & many needles, I got pregnant and had my little baby – and then my sister got pregnant “by accident”. I usually keep that to myself, but it hurt.

secondary infertility was a painful surprise for us. a honeymoon baby followed by a journey down the long and lonely road of miscarriages and fertility treatments…it all tarnished our successful last attempt with a pall of fear.
too many people know both sides.
i’ve never commented before, but i wanted to send my support

Wow. Ok, so I came across your site a few weeks back and I found so much truth in what you write. I too have been blessed with one perfectly cute as hell little boy only to find out that I will not likely, as in snowballs chance in hell as the doctor said, conceive again. I even feel like my first pregnancy was robbed because it sucked the entire time and then ended up delivering early. I cannot get pregnant again and I couldn’t even experience all 40 weeks of the first. what a rip off. Anyways, I know where you are at and I wanted to thank you for sharing because sometimes I feel so alone so broken so much different from all the other girls that think baby and end up pregnant. It truly stinks! Some how some way I have move on pass this but for now it hurts and my heart aches for another sweet baby to love.

Ditto. Just so f’ing ditto. Some days are harder than others. I’m sorry to read that we share the same crappy boat. Your analogy of banging your head on the wall for a chance at another million dollars was brilliant. Sometimes I see my son and I realize that even though I’ve always thought he was a perfect miracle I just didn’t realize what a miraculous miracle he really is because hitting that same jackpot a second time is so f’ing hard it hurts.

Best wishes to you on a suck situation. It’s not much consolation but I feel your pain.

I’m not sure what to say that hasn’t been commented already… but, I just love you… and I’m so very sorry you hurt. Infertility sucks.

I wish there were some magic words I could type to make you feel better, but I know there is not. It may be a cliche, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

This is a beautifully honest post about a deeply personal pain, and I all I can do is wish you love and peace.

I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but I stumbled upon your website today and really, really felt your words in my heart. I am a closet infertile, don’t have the heart to tell my friends and family that we’ve been off birth control for two years now. I feel your pain, but don’t forget the precious gem you’ve already got in your life.

[...] I know the physical ache that this has caused some of you to feel. Oh, how I know. And I hate that I caused it. [...]

I can’t imagine the pain. I thought we were infertile. Now, after 10 years, I am … not. I don’t know why.

And I haven’t had to deal with infertility affecting my friendships until now. I am pregnant with #2 and my younger sister is … not. Her reaction to my news? A week of tears.

Not sure how to proceed – suddenly our relationship has changed. I don’t know what to say to her, how to act, or how to be.

Wow. Good stuff to know. I’ve never tried to get pregnant, so I don’t know my status. I’m sure you know that my sister has has two miscarriages. Her post on @room704 helped me to understand that better.

This has helped me to better understand the repercussions of infertility. Thank you for that.

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