My Other Sister

I swear my family likes me. I promise you they're good people and they love me and I love them. But damn do they suck at understanding anything related to infertility.

As I make progress in my recovery, I take more risks in talking honestly about my reality. I was talking on the phone to my oldest sister last night and she asked how I was doing. I said pretty well but admitted that I had been feeling sad lately. She asked why and I said infertility and she said, "Why are you still sad about that?" And I said, "Because this is the time period when I was going through IVF. Because infertility is a lifelong loss. Because I didn't get to raise my children." She said, "Oh."

If it only could have ended there... But it didn't.

My sister started telling me about her grown son who lives nearby whom she hasn't seen in a month. She said, "You're lucky you don't have kids. Children are a blessing and a curse. Just remember that."

So of course I told her, "You are lucky you got to have a kid. Children are a blessing and a curse. Just remember that."

Lower Your Expectations

For my last post of 2017, I'd like to share some advice from my former counselor. When I was in the middle of infertility and treatments, it was gently, yet firmly, suggested to me by both my husband and my best friend to start seeing someone. They both thought I needed additional support. And if the two people I love and trust more than anything nicely suggested the same thing to me, I thought I better listen.

After my first counselor was a TERRIBLE fit (actually I would say she was a terrible counselor, but hey, maybe her style works for someone out there), I got lucky with the second counselor I tried. Very, very lucky. She was a much older woman with children and grandchildren who had never experienced infertility herself or knew anyone who had dealt with it, but she still totally got it. I learned so much from her in the year and a half I saw her. Honestly, I might still be seeing her if she hadn't retired. She was incredible. I told her, "I came for help with infertility but I stayed for the boundary education." Seriously, where was this woman my whole life? I definitely needed her help.

So. Anyway. One of the most important things she told me was to lower my expectations.

What.

I thought I was supposed to have high expectations for the people around me. I mean, if you have high expectations, people will rise to meet them, right? Nope, not necessarily.

While I was raw from infertility, I constantly got my feelings hurt. I was consistently disappointed and sad at what I perceived to be a lack of support from friends and family. When she advised me to lower my expectations, I was really surprised. I had never heard that before.

Then again... It was just another concept that infertility had turned on its head.

Have high expectations! Never give up! Everything happens for a reason!

What a bunch of bullshit we've been fed our whole lives.

So I want to share that ever since I have lowered my expectations, I have been much happier. People don't disappoint me as much because I don't have unrealistic expectations for them. I'm easier on others and I'm easier on myself. I'm not wasting as much time and energy getting my feelings hurt. Instead, I have been using my energy to grieve and move forward. It's true that there's been an almost 100% turnover of people in my life, but that's okay. That's how life goes and how relationships evolve, especially when you're walking a different path than the majority.

I don't know if that advice is helpful or not, but I wanted to share in case it is. If you found yourself angry, sad, and/or disappointed with people a lot during 2017, try taking a different approach. Try lowering your expectations. At the very least, it will free up a lot more of your energy.

Never Give Up?

I am having a hard time letting this one go. Honestly, I am pissed. My last friend to get pregnant announced it on social media yesterday. Ok, whatever, she called me to tell me so I knew the announcement was coming...

But.

Ugh. I hated it. I hate how she announced it!!!

She posted a pic of a bunch of her needles in a heart shape (which I think is extremely personal and kind of gross but whatever I guess) surrounding a onesie that said something about things being worth the wait.

(Ok. A little weird, but people are entitled to their own choices.)

She wrote out ALL of their treatments, what all they had done and how many treatments failed.

(Ok, now we're definitely getting too far into Overshare Territory for my tastes, but, again, people can share what they choose to share.)

But, it's how she ended it that makes me want to scream and break things:
"For those struggling with infertility, I want to encourage you not to give up."

Oh really???

So, I gave up, huh?
What? I didn't want it bad enough?
I didn't try hard enough?
Did I not deserve it?
Or, let me guess, it just wasn't meant to be; things happen for a reason... UGH. GROSS.

Thankfully, I am super secure in my decision to stop treatments. As I've written before, they were killing my soul. I was a shell of a person. I was depressed and hollow and inactive and in a very very bad, very very dark spot. So, my former friend's comments don't make me question my decisions, but they do hurt my feelings.

Of course, she is not going to be thinking of me when she announces her pregnancy. Of course she is not going to be thinking about how her cry of "Never give up!" will affect the infertile women who will never get pregnant.

But why didn't she think of me?

She has been dealing with infertility for years. She came to me for advice about finding a doctor and what to expect with IVF and how to deal with failed treatments. We've been friends since high school. She knows how badly I always wanted to be a mother. Or, at least, I thought she did.

I'm having a hard time letting go of this one, but writing this post is helping. I HATE it when women who struggled to get pregnant suddenly seem to have amnesia about the whole experience once they get pregnant/have a baby.

I suppose, the worst part was that she was doing a gender reveal (I freaking hate those) live on social media at a certain time, so everyone could tune in and watch. Um, no thank you. So she's already gone. My friend who only just began her second trimester is lost to mommy madness already. I wish her well.

And for anyone else, in case you need a healthy reminder:
IT IS MORE THAN OKAY TO GIVE UP.

Got on my Soapbox for a Class Presentation, haha!

Yesterday I had to give a presentation in class. It was over one of the many neurodegenerative diseases: risk factors, signs & symptoms, treatment, etc. I'm having a hard time getting into this semester, so I didn't prepare what I was going to say. The only thing I planned was I planned on winging it. I had the factual information already documented in my presentation, and I figured I would just go over the facts with my classmates.

But before I knew what was coming out of my mouth, I got on my (professional-sounding) soapbox. I told my classmates that once we graduate and are out in the field working with our patients that we need to be mindful of what we say to them. I said our future patients will be dealing with life-altering traumas and we need to respect that. I said they will have friends check on them for a week or two, or a month or two, but after that everyone goes on with their own lives. I said our patients may be lonely, bored, sad, and frustrated. I told my class that it is imperative that we always consider the mental health of our patient, that many of them will get depressed.

Then, without planning to, I said the big thing. I said, "And please, never tell a patient that 'Everything happens for a reason.' That's simply not true. Some things just happen. And they are really, really bad. Please avoid telling them meaningless platitudes at all costs."

I paused for a moment to let that resonate and I noticed a couple of classmates nodding their heads. Then I figured I better get back to the facts and figures of my presentation so I did and wrapped it up. Afterwards, three different people told me they really appreciated my additional comments.

If I stopped even just one person from saying that insensitive phrase in the future, then yesterday's deviation from my presentation was worth it.