My family is fertile. Dang fertile. Granted I have a huge extended
family, so it's possible some of my aunts struggled, but it sure doesn't
look that way. My mother has 9 living siblings (two deceased), and the
less religious of them have a couple of kids, while my very catholic
aunt and uncle have 11 children. Almost all of my married cousins have
had children quickly and easily, and a few are up to four children.
However, growing up I wanted to be a nun. Part of this was due to a
childhood zest for holy things, and partly it was because I didn't want
to have kids. I loved families, and I loved big families, but all the
moms I knew seemed completely down-trodden and exhausted, devoid of
dreams and imagination. Perhaps I misinterpreted the mothers in my
life, but the idea that mothers ceased to exist as anything but
caretakers rang true for me, and I did not want to be that. I wanted to
be awesome--like Olympic gymnast awesome.
As I got older I realized that perhaps some moms were really doing
what they liked and that it might be ok. Plus boys were suddenly really
cute. In college, realizing I was probably called to marriage and not
religious life, I accepted the fact that I would probably have to have
kids, and probably a lot of them. And the rest of the story you mostly
know. I met and fell in love with A, and we had a baby long before we
were ready. I am now eight months pregnant with our second baby. It
has been hard, and strangely perfect.
However, in the last few years I've realized that not everyone gets
pregnant easily. I know this sounds naive to all you ladies out there
struggling with infertility, but I really thought that having a hard
time getting pregnant was really really rare. I knew it happened, but I
didn't know anyone personally that it had happened to. When I was
beginning college I found out my step-mom and dad had been trying to
have a baby for quite a while, so this was my first encounter. However,
they were not very open about it with me (I imagine it's not something a
woman would want to discuss with her 19 year old step-daughter), and I
assumed it was due to my step-mom's age (she was in her mid-thirties
when they started trying). Another reason I had not encountered many
with this issue is that at that age most of my friends were not married,
and consequently not in the baby game.
In the last two years I have come to know two women who have
struggled with fertility. First, when we moved into our house our
neighbors had just adopted a little boy. Their little boy was only two
weeks older than L, and I quickly started hanging out with his mom, M.
She was very open about her six-year struggle to conceive before they
successfully adopted. I was amazed by her openness and about the
ordeal, and I asked lots of questions since she seemed so open. I was
able to hear about her experience with endometriosis, struggling to
conceive, learning to deal with pregnancy announcements,and finally
adoption. January and I had already been friends for quite a while, but
she and her husband were still avoiding pregnancy. She shared her
experiences with NFP with me, and helped me find resources to use it
post-partum. It was quite a bonding experience for us discussing such
intimate things in our lives. She was overjoyed at the birth of our
little daughter and was completely accepting of our unexpected pregnancy
which was something that I really needed at that point. We often
shared our struggles and joys in using NFP, and discussed life in
general. She would often tell me of their discussions over when to try
and have a child, and I would worry over getting pregnant again. When
she told me in the fall after L was born that she and her husband I
decided to stop avoiding pregnancy and start trying to conceive, I was
ecstatic. I was convinced she would be pregnant within a few months and
we could continue to bond over having children.
As months went by and Jan shared her disappointment at the many
negative pregnancy tests and unwelcome periods, we've had to navigate
how to be good friends to each other while going through different
phases in life. We already worked on this while I had a baby and she
did not, but it has taken on a new dimension now in her struggles to
conceive.
And now to the point of this post, and our efforts to bridge the
divide between the super-fertile and the sub-fertile. L is now almost
two and we are having a second baby in a month, and Jan has been trying
to conceive for over a year. I've gotten a glimpse into the world of
infertility, with all it's crazy tests, and extreme heartache. It seems
that in life there is often a divide between women with children, and
women without, and it looks like dealing with infertility can make it
even more pronounced. It makes sense when you think about it. I'm sure
it is often heart wrenching for a lady desperately wanting to have a
child to hang out with a woman who has a child (or two), and conceives
easily. Plus since infertility is such a misunderstood issue, it's easy
for us to say things that are quite hurtful to sufferers--from
complaining about diapers to pregnancy pain, these complaints must sound
petty to a woman who longs to change little diapers and experience all
the ups and downs of pregnancy.
Conversely those of us with normal fertility don't always know what
to say to a lady suffering with IF. Particularly for a Catholic woman
blessed with loads of fertility, we are usually wondering if we'll be
caring for toddlers well into our forties (I know there's nothing wrong
with this, but as I've shared before, I find the idea a bit
overwhelming), and trying to manage the craziness of raising babies and
maintaining sanity.
So yes, all of this is against us being friends. But we need each
other. One of our purposes in starting this blog together is to explore
how women in different states in life can understand and support each
other. We are women trying to live out faith, and our vocations well.
And I hope as much as possible that we can be there for each other even
across this divide. I consider it often, both with my friendship with
Jan, and considering most of our readers seem to be from the infertility
camp.
Here is what I've observed so far in relating to women with IF.
First off, I try to listen as much as possible. And ask questions which
is pretty easy since I know so little about actively trying to
conceive. Listening and asking questions helps me to know what Jan is
going through as much as possible. And when she shares with me, and I
know I just don't get it due to lack of experience I tell her that. but
at the same time, I have felt pain before, I have felt sad and rejected
before, and although it's different than the particular IF cross I
think that knowing how these feelings feel, gives me sympathy. As
nervous as I get sometimes about my overabundance of fertility, I know
it is an easier thing to deal with than IF. The pain is so intense in
women who go through it. It is a truly unique kind of cross, and I can
only marvel at their faith and strength. The desire to be a mother is
so strong, and so admirable.
Although I can't fully understand the cross of infertility, I want
to be there for Jan and others as much as I possibly can. I'm hoping
that by staying involved in the trilas of each other's lives we can stay
close and keep from being separated by the differences in our
challenges in life.
To all you other ladies out there struggling with infertility, do you have any other suggestions of how to be a good friend to someone on the outside?
-November
Praying for them and letting them know they are not forgotten and that you care.
ReplyDeleteNovember, I think you are doing such a great job at being a friend. Reading this post, I see how truly & deeply care for January - and in that way for others suffering as well. Asking January how treatments are going or if she needs to talk, but not probing too much, is so simple, but acknowledges a topic that she (and I) sometimes don't want to bring up. Sometimes I hate being a "downer", so I avoid the topic. I also second IMHPFP's suggestion of prayer.
ReplyDeleteNovie, I've said this before, but I just have to post it here: You are the most amazing friend. You listen like no one else listens. I often feel like our friendship is a little one-sided, because I unload my thoughts about fertility on you often, while you have almost never complained to me about pregnancy, even before I suspected that something was wrong. Sometimes I do fear that as you welcome more children into the world, and I am left behind, that we'll grow apart. That would be only natural, as your family should come first. But always know that the support that you are giving me now is helping me through every day and I'll always be grateful for today. - Jan
ReplyDeleteI would say to just be there for them. Don't forget and get so caught up in life with babies that you forget to stop and ask how things are going...and then really listen to what they have to say. I guess we just don't want to feel completely left behind. Oh yeah, and the prayers...those are just as important if not more important.
ReplyDeleteThanks for all the feedback!
ReplyDeleteAnd Jan, I'll stick it out if you will despite our different lives!
November