What once was... is no longer. Walk in HER shoes.
[Here at Mommybloggers, we try to be sensitive to women who are infertile. We have asked many times to call us on it when we are not. One of our goals is to help shed light for women who have not been through infertility to better understand what these women go through. Recently I was contacted by Pamela at Coming2Terms if I could share with you an experiment she is trying. A way to walk in each other's shoes, or reproductive cycles. This is the story. Semi-cross posted at BlogHer.]
My first pregnancy ended with a stillborn baby boy 6 1/2 months into my pregnancy. The baby was healthy. The problem was with me. With my body. At that time, the doctors questioned my ability to ever have children. For those few months of tests, I feared I would receive the worst possible news I could receive: that I would never give birth to my own children. Since that time, I have had medical help and after 3 very high risk pregnancies, I have three healthy children. But what if...
What if the world somehow turned around and those of us who have been able to conceive children were switched with women who were infertile and struggled to become pregnant (even with intervention) and have babies? Suddenly you find yourself childless and infertile whereas all of your friends who have struggled with infertility are amazingly pregnant. Pamela at Coming2Terms asked just that question in a social experiment that asks you how you would handle this experience as you are plopped down at a baby shower for these newly pregnant women? How do you think the conversation would go?
Everyone who is fighting with infertility, you are now able to conceive -- the NATURAL way.Those of you with children, those who conceived without a thought as to ovulation cycles, FSH or sperm counts, you are now mysteriously unable to bear children. The littles you once nursed, cuddled and bragged on at social gatherings, they no longer exist. The realization of childlessness is frightening, devastating because the once fertile now find themselves in an empty nursery, the house is suddenly silent -- no more giggles or playful chatter or background noise courtesy of Dora the Explorer or Sesame Street.
Those who were once infertile are equally in disbelief. They've just had a loving and spontaneous romp. Two weeks later two pink lines magically appear on an at home pregnancy kit. The newly pregnant can't quite wrap their heads around the idea that no external intervention was required...not a pill, not a shot, not even a visit to a doctor's office.
A chance to walk in another woman's shoes. Or live with her reproductive life.
Could you do it? How would you handle yourself? If you were once fertile and now are unable to conceive, do you resent those who now are pregnant? If you were infertile and are now pregnant, are you sensitive to those who are unable to conceive?
These are great questions. An amazing social study. I highly recommend you go visit Pamela and share your thoughts. Both women who have never struggled with infertility and those who have or are. It is a great way for all of us to learn from each other and maybe learn how to help each other be more sensitive to this issue...on both sides.
And don't be shy! I want to hear what you have to say. Share your thoughts here at Mommybloggers, too.
Personally speaking, I would hope that I could be happy for those women who are now finding themselves pregnant. But, I remember those long months after Jacob died that I looked at every woman who was pregnant with jealously and frustration. Always asking, "Why her?" I hope I have learned more about the emotions involved and how deeply the pain lies.
What will you learn?
Comments
I remember shortly after my miscarriage seeing a sign for a fundraiser for a single mother.
I can clearly remember thinking Why the hell should I help her? She's the one that gets to have a baby.
I wasn't infertile, I just had a problem carrying pregnancies to term. I have several close friends that went through infertility and it is incredibly traumatic. It is like your body is betraying you.
Anyway, to answer the actual question, of course I would be resentful. I was resentful and looking back on how everything turned out I got off pretty easily.
Posted by: Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah | March 31, 2007 8:00 PM
Thanks, Jenn, for sharing the link to my social experiment. I welcome your readers' participation. Those of us with infertility find it painful to spend time in the mommy blogosphere so please leave your comments *both* on my blog as well as Jenn's otherwise your insights may not cross the bridge I'm looking to build. Don't be shy, moms. Share your thoughts. Thanks again for your willingness to walk in our shoes if only in this experiment...p.s. this invitation includes those women who managed to conceive and deliver after IF treatments. Take it a step further, what if the treatments didn't work?
Posted by: Pamela Jeanne | April 1, 2007 1:44 PM
Thanks for sharing this and to the original author.
As someone who spent years trying to conceive and going through infertility and kept trying for some sort of a stiff upper lip as I dealt with so many casual, careless, judgmental, and cruel comments around such a devastating experience, I appreciate every effort for sensitivity and understanding.
Posted by: Julie Pippert | April 3, 2007 1:40 PM
I've been on both sides of the spectrum. It took three years to get pregnant with my first and I remember the jealousy and the anger, especially when my sisters kept having unwanted pregnancies. We were told we would never be able to conceive without fertility treatments. Much to our surprise we were blessed with our second two years later without a single treatment. Thank you for bringing this to light.
Posted by: Melissa Steele | April 3, 2007 7:38 PM
I am coming at this from a completely different perspective. My husband and I didn't want to have children. I was using Depo for birth control. It failed and I became pregnant. I don't believe in abortion and once I told my husband he said he wanted to keep the baby, that he could never let someone else raise his child. I spent my whole pregnancy depressed about this. I felt my life was over. Due to some complications I had to quit school and was on bedrest for 3 months. This was not what I had planned. All I could think was "why is this happening to me". Once Katie was born of course I loved her but I still catch myself wondering why someone who had wanted a child couldn't have been "blessed" instead of me. I wasn't able to go back to school because I couldn't afford it anymore. My daughter is healthy and happy and yes I do go on and about her. I haven't seen anyone who has kids that don't.
On the other side of things I have a best friend that I have know since we were 10. She finished college and as she had planned since high school tried to start a family. She has tried for 6 years to get pregnant all the while watching me raise a child she knew I never planned to have and I know it was torture. I did ask all the wrong questions but I love her and it wasn't because I couldn't see her pain it was because I wished there was some way I could help her and I was grasping at straws to do so. I offered to carry her baby, to give her my eggs and yes I know that what she really wanted was to carry her own child that she and her husband had created. If I could I would trade places with her so fast. I am sure most of you are judging me and thinking that I must not love my child but that is not the case at all. I do love her more than I ever thought possible. I think that this has less to do with wanting what others have and being "normal" than it has to do with not being able to fulfill our own dreams and what we picture for ourselves. Oh and just so you know I also look at my friend and am envious but just not for the same reasons. I only wanted to live out my dreams.
Posted by: Molly | April 4, 2007 5:54 PM
I went through infertility and pregnancy loss and as hard as I tried not to be, I was bitter and jealous and resentful of easily fertile women at times - a co-worker who got pregnant "by accident" my sister in law who was on medication for bi-polar disorder. It was doubly hard to be dealing with such a difficult thing and then to castigate myself further for feeling such anger toward women who didn't deserve it.
Now I'm days away from delivering my son and I know there are infertile women who still read my blog who may be feeling the same way toward me.
The coin has two sides, but hopefully all of us who have struggled with infertility and loss get a chance to see both. And I try to gently remind my easily fertile friends that unless you've walked a mile in the shoes of an infertile woman, the best thing you can ever say to her is that you love her and that your thoughts are with her. Anything else sounds hollow at best and insincere or worse to someone who is struggling with the pain of infertility.
Great post.
Posted by: TB | April 9, 2007 11:09 AM