Many Months Later: An Update from our Single Child World

Well, it's been nearly four months. I have been meaning to post an update here for a long time, but first I felt too miserable to recount it all, and then I got very busy at work for the last two months.

But. Here I am. And in a very different place than last time I wrote.

Right after July 4th, I went back for another lining check, and my cycle was canceled. Ended. Done. The weird thing is, I never actually spoke my doctor in Atlanta. But in previous phone conversations and by email, he confirmed that there is something going on in my uterus (more endo, or scarring from my c-section) that is preventing a lining from growing, and the next steps are to consider a surrogate, or get the hysteroscopy and see if it's something that can be addressed or not. I still feel I don't 100% understand all this. I also feel there were inconsistencies in my lining readings, and miscommunication between the local clinic and the doctor in Atlanta.

In any case, my husband had already made it known that he's done. Absolutely done. Sadly, he didn't even call me or return my desperate calls or texts that morning of the final appointment. Not for about an hour and a half. That's a horribly long time for me to not have had that support. He was out of town, visiting his parents, with our toddler, and I was alone.

Me? I don't know. I have not been doing too well over the past three months. I was bad, then got some therapy and went back on the birth control pill (because I have endometriosis, and also I don't want the "what ifs" nagging at me) and then seemed to be doing better. But then a few things happened: I stopped individual therapy because my husband and I were fighting like crazy so we started couples therapy, and I simply didn't have time for both. I believe we hit such a rough patch because of his lack of empathy and support. To be fair, he's never been as emotional as I am. When I was struggling for 2.5 years to get pregnant with my son, I leaned heavily on my support group friends. This time, I don't have that support. I know they are out there, but I don't seem to know anyone in real life who is my boat- wants a second, but can't. Also, getting back to my husband, he says he's thought for years that a second child might not work, because we had so much trouble getting to #1. I was.. more optimistic. And he was more realistic, as it turns out. So I don't think he faced the crushing surprise and disappointment that I felt. He had always said he wanted a second if it was just the case of a few transfers, but my cycles had turned out to be immensely stressful, expensive, and chaotic.

So, his lack of empathy and wanting me to get over it faster than I could have been so hard. My lack of support from people in a similar place is a big contrast from previous infertility treatment cycles. Then, my best mom friend got pregnant really, really easily, and was incredibly insensitive in complaining and talking about it ad nauseam. We haven't spoken in over a month, haven't hung out since August, and I've been taking it really hard. Although we had differences- she seems to view being pregnant as some big accomplishment, like it's her major contribution to society- we were also good friends, our kids got along, and we hung out 1-3 times a week. So I am very lonely on top of everything else.

Writing all this out is actually making me feel kind of ill, so I'm going to wrap it up. I've been spiraling downwards for awhile, but now I am making some positive changes. Just last night I started a low dose of anti-depressants/anti-anxiety medication (the big Z), and today I feel sick, drunk, and unhappy. But I have heard that if I stick with it, it will be worth it. I've been trying to keep exercising 1-2 times a week, I've been reaching out to other friends who are empathetic and kind people, and I've ended our couples therapy because I felt it was doing more harm than good. Right now, if our relationship is going to work, first I need to pull myself out of this unhappiness.

I still wish it had ended differently. I wanted, I dreamed of another child. But from a practical viewpoint, there are huge benefits to having one. We're more financially secure than we've ever been, now that we're not doing endless treatment cycles and worrying about another daycare payment. We've decided to take two nice vacations a year, starting with Alaska this June and maybe Costa Rica or Mexico this January or February. We can do these things, logistically and financially, with one child. We both get plenty of precious reading and solitary time, since we can trade off with childcare on weekends and give each other breaks. Our son is now at the age where he is not so needy, he can play with the neighbors or by himself, but he's also super fun to do interesting things with. We have real conversations and adventures, and my attention doesn't have to be divided or diverted by a baby.

Probably no one is even reading this anymore, and sorry to not have a happy ending, but I hope and pray that someday I will feel like this had a happy conclusion- at least, that I made the right choice in stopping the endless sinkhole of fertility treatment, and that I can have a happy, satisfying life with my One and Only child, who has taught me a kind of love that I am amazed by every single day. Here's to a healthier outlook, this medication helps me quit obsessing over what could have been, and my marriage recovers this rocky stage.

More later, perhaps.

Radical Honesty

Two weeks ago, I wrote a rambling post about other people's pregnancies. Specifically, I was telling about how a friend had announced her pregnancy on Facebook, and had hurt me by not mentioning it to me first, even though she knew of our troubles and we'd been emailing after she must have known about her pregnancy.

Well, I mostly put it out of my mind, but it still bothered me. But the night of my transfer, while in Atlanta, my email inbox pinged. Guess what it was? No, it wasn't her checking in with me or saying hello. It was a BABY SHOWER INVITE from her mother!

WTF. You don't mention your pregnancy to me even while asking about my IVFs, you post an obnoxious photo on Facebook that insults people who have cats instead of babies (ahem), and then you INVITE ME TO YOUR FUCKING BABY SHOWER??? Via mass email????

I drove home from Atlanta the next day, and try as I might, I just couldn't quit thinking about the audacity and outright rudeness of this. I really wanted to call and give her a piece of my mind, although my friends had counseled me not to. Also, and more importantly, I was driving. So I did nothing, but stewed about it for a long time.

That night, when I got home, I just couldn't resist. I emailed her probably too long of a message. Here is what I sent:

I want to tell you how hurt I was by your not taking the time and compassion to email me to tell me of your pregnancy before putting it to the world on Facebook, and by your not saying anything yet inviting me to your baby shower.

I understand that this is about you and not me, but you WATCHED me do my fertility shots. I MUST have told you how hard this is for me. I think you know I have done three rounds of IVF with no success. I have poured my heart and soul and a significant chunk of my life savings into trying to have a baby. Perhaps you do not realize how heartbreaking it is to me to not be able to have the process of pregnancy and a child. I know, I know, people all around us are getting pregnant, I get it. But I was hurt that you are my friend and you  knew of my struggles and did not bother to give me a heads-up before the Facebook posting (as many of my other friends have kindly done). According to my FB account, we were emailing as late as April, by which time you must have known you were pregnant. A simple thoughtful email or acknowledgement would have been nice.

I wasn't going to say anything, but then I received this baby shower invite and felt upset all over again. In what world is it considered okay to issue an invitation to celebrate a pregnancy to someone who is obviously is struggling over her inability after two and a half long years to enjoy the same thing? 

I keep hearing you tell me how you and [your husband] were "ambivalent" about children, and the injustice of life cannot be more clear. I recognize this is not your fault, of course.

I do wish you happiness and a healthy pregnancy, but I would have appreciated a friend's sensitivity and compassion in this situation.

I tried to make it nice but express how I felt and why her actions bothered me so much. I expected a bitchy retort, or perhaps radio silence. However, two and a half hours later, she wrote back. I won't post the whole thing here, but essentially she said that she is sorry, and that she just didn't know how to deal with it, so she didn't. She said that in retrospect she should have emailed me and she realizes that now.  Here is a little bit of how she wrote it:

I did take the time to think of your reaction, but I honestly didn't know the best approach to take. I thought sending you a personal email might make the sting stronger, because you would have to respond to a direct connection. I thought perhaps a public announcement would give you time to process your feelings and not feel the need to respond personally. I noticed that you didn't respond to the public announcement, but didn't want to make it more difficult by writing you and bringing attention to it.

So, I was pleasantly surprised that she did write back, though further annoyed that she actually thought about it and decided a public announcement was really kindest (WTF? does that make sense to anyone??? maybe to a fertile person).

I wrote back and said:
Thanks for writing back. I figured it was how you described it- you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. I know it was not an intentional thing, but it did really hurt me and I would say that in general, if you don't know what to say, saying something is often better than nothing. At least that's my opinion, from this side of the issue. One in eight couples struggle with fertility problems so it can be a sensitive topic for many, but it's also a hidden issue that most of us don't want to think or talk about, so we don't know how to deal with it.

The reason I wrote this is that although I don't think it's my job to educate the world, I do think that with 1 out of every 8 couples struggling with infertility, people SHOULD be more sensitive when announcing their news to the world via Facebook. I mean, I guess if you post that you got a new job, it could offend people who are under- or unemployed, and perhaps posting a photo of me with my husband could upset a single person who wants to be married?  I don't know, and maybe I am overthinking all of this, but I just think pregnancy is a weird issue. I'm not sure I can elucidate why, but especially for this friend, she KNEW someone struggling, so I still can't totally forgive her not taking the effort to do SOMETHING before fucking sending me a baby shower invite. That part, especially, I cannot understand.

Anyway, probably no one cares about my personal drama, but I am still struggling with my feelings over this. But mainly, I just want to start speaking up more when people do things that aren't right or aren't kind. I feel like I spend too much of my life being "pleasant" when I don't feel like it, to protect other people, but this incident made me feel like I shouldn't care so much when people aren't pleasant and don't think of my feelings. And as I wrote to her, infertility is not rare. Hello. Wake up. Be a good friend and a compassionate person when the opportunity is staring you in the face.

Obviously this is about more than just my friend, and is bigger than one person or one issue. I just haven't fully processed it, but this helped.

As a closing note, I'll also say that for the fifth time in a row, my dad sent me a godawful cat statue for my birthday. And I finally, at last, told him the truth. "Please don't send me any more cat-themed items." And he didn't get upset!  Score 1 for (careful and kind) radical honesty!