Tough stuff

To say that sometimes life isn't quite what you expect it will be is quite an understatement. Growing up, while in my pre-teens and even teenage years, I always thought I'd find a high school sweetheart and marry him in my early 20s to then go on to have kids immediately after. I thought I'd have 3 kids all by the time I turn 30. Ha! Isn't it funny what we imagine when we are young?! I never had a high school sweetheart and didn't meet my soulmate until I was 23. We waited until we were financially ready to start our lives together before we got engaged. We both knew 3 weeks after having met and falling head over heels for one another that we wanted 3 kids together. But, we waited until we were stable enough with our jobs, house, cars, etc. before we started "trying" to have kids. Things haven't quite worked out as the fairytale I imagined as a 13 year old girl! But that's okay; that's life.

I have realized along the way that this fairytale does play out for other people, and makes that ugly 3 headed monster, Jealousy, make an appearance. Jealousy is an inevitable thing when someone else has what you want, especially when it's something that you really really want, and especially when it makes you feel like an outsider. For a long time I have felt like an outsider for not being able to have kids easily, or on the terms that I wanted, when so many people around me have. I even feel like an outsider due to the fact that aside from women in my support group, I don't know anyone who's had as many failed and unsuccessful attempts to have a baby as we've had. I know, poor me, right? No, what I mean is that it can be a lonely, lonely place here when it's me and the three headed monster who doesn't offer much support or empathy.

I can handle what I've been dealt. I've learned along the way that it's important to keep those in your life that are most important to you, those that will be the most supportive of you, and those that will love you unconditionally whether you are jealous, isolated, sad, mad, or anything else. When you aren't in this club, you don't know how it feels. I never knew how this would feel until I was fully submerged in this life. I knew what it was like to want a baby and not be able to have one 3 years ago when things weren't happening naturally. Then I knew what it felt like to have less invasive fertility treatments fail, and now I know what it's like to have a failed IVF. And let me tell you, it feels like shit sometimes. But I have found a "club" that I fit into, among my amazing friends I've met through a local support group. I know that I am normal when I hear that they all have felt what I feel and are living through what I am. That is very comforting, to say the least.

I love my new friends very much, and at the same time, I am trying to continue friendships with my old friends, most of which have children. This is a sensitive subject for me. It's hard, I'm sure, being the friend who has kids, whether it was easy or not to conceive, when you have an infertile friend in your group. I don't know how it feels to be on the other side, but I do know it feels really shitty to be on this side. It's hard to show up and to talk about other people's children, families and pregnancies. Does that make me a bad friend? Hell no! It makes me human! Me not asking doesn't mean I don't care, it probably means I can't get the words out without crying, and once I've started crying, the conversation becomes about me.

This process and the emotions that go along with it are not any easier now, 3 years into this process, than it was 1 year in. Showing empathy and compassion six months ago after my failed IVF doesn't get anyone off the hook for the next 6 months until the next one. We need sensitivity, understanding, compassion and love the whole way along this process. That may mean understanding why I can't make a baby shower, a family get together or just a girls night out. As far as conversations go, I try my hardest to show interest (because I am interested) in other people's children and families. Some days are harder than others to participate in these conversations. It's also harder for me with some people that it is with others, and I can't explain why.  I know that being on the other side of this is very difficult. I'm sure it feels like I don't care about other peoples families, pregnancies, births, children, but that is far from the truth. I know it's tough to know what to say to me or if you should ask about what's going on, but clearly I am an open book about it. Because I'm an open book about my infertility and my journey, not asking is ignoring the subject, similar to how you feel I am ignoring your lives and children. It may be hard to ask me because you feel uncomfortable or awkward and don't know what to say, but please remember that's similar to how it feels on my side. This is an isolating thing, so being in a conversation about something I don't have and want badly is difficult, especially now that I have medications and hormones back on board! I know it goes both ways and this continues to be a work in progress for me, as I hope it can continue to be for those who are in my life and love me and my husband. As my friend, just remember, you don't have to feel guilty because you have kids and I don't. That is NOT what I'm going for. You just have to have empathy and compassion. You have to understand that this is my life just like your kids are your life. Remember I'm your friend and I want to be made part of the conversation and part of the group, not isolated from it. I need friendship now more than ever. We (infertile friends) don't expect friends or family to avoid talking about their families or that they feel guilt for having what they have. Just please remember to have sensitivity towards your friends who may feel isolated or like an outsider, and remember to try to include them in activities and conversations also about their lives and struggles, as they participate in conversations about your children and families. Please remember that silence can mean a lot of things, not always anger.