This post is part of the 30 Day Infertility Blogging Challenge. I thought this might be a great way for me to focus on my infertility, but also to show myself in a different light. You can read the whole series by clicking here.
20. Have you ever bonded with someone IRL (in real life) over infertility, even for just a few minutes? It could be a family member, friend, neighbor, or even the clerk at the grocery store who noticed your OPK and vitamin purchase. Tell the story.
I’ve said before, I don’t know a lot of people IRL who are going through what I am going through. I recently met someone who blogs too and it was so refreshing to meet her because when I explained about my estrogen levels dropping Christmas Eve, I didn’t have to explain what that meant. Don’t get me wrong, I like educating people. I love support from fertiles and infertiles alike. But it is nice, whether talking to someone IRL or my new blogging buddies that I’ve never met, to just tell them what is happening and have them understand COMPLETELY.
Over Christmas with the family, I got a chance to really connect with a family member who’s been there. I won’t say her name, because not everyone is an attention whore like me, but let me tell you, it totally made my Christmas less sucky. It’s been a while since her last miscarriage, and she has a beautiful child now, but I could tell it still affects her: the infertility, the losses, the tests, the “nothing seems to be wrong” diagnosis. We don’t stop being infertile just because we have a child. Infertility becomes more than a medical problem, it is a part of who we are. We sat down together and told each other our stories.
In nursing school we had it drilled into our heads to never tell a patient, “I know how you feel.” The thought is that, we don’t know how things feel to others, because everyone is unique. I disagree. I keep to that standard in my profession. But I think when two people are going through something like infertility, they somehow find a connection, that that other person knows exactly how they feel. I’ve never been pregnant. My family member has experienced multiple miscarriages. But we both knew exactly how the other is feeling. Loss. Her, for her unborn babies. Me, for the potential loss of motherhood.
Both of us suffered in silence, the whole time I was aware of her struggles. I never said a word to her in those years. The outcome could have been so different if I would have walked up to her, gave her a hug and simply said, “I’m so sorry.” Instead, I said nothing, not wanting to make it worse for her (as if I could be so conceited to think that I could make it worse than it already was). What I really was doing was protecting my own uncomfortableness. Once again, because of this stigma infertility has in the community, we choose not to say anything because it’s easier. Whoever thought suffering in silence was considered a strength?
I'm actually pretty open about my IF struggles and have come across soooo many people that are in the same situation. My cousin and my best friend's sister would be closest to me. There is an IRL friend that I met on a social site for IF that, as it turns out, she lives in my neighborhood so we've become fast friends over the last few months. I'm also a PT babysitter and have a couple mom's that had their children through IVF.
Right in your neighborhood?! That's awesome! What is the site?
I have found that by opening up about our/my struggles, I know more people who have also struggled with IF or are struggling with it. It has been "nice" to know I am not alone, but would be even better if none of it had to happen (we all know that). And it is hard to not tell someone that you know how they feel, but I agree in some situations you can pretty closely know or at least empathize very much.