One of my fertile friends understands me.

 

I’m really ashamed to admit this, but some of the thoughts I’ve had surrounding my infertility and my fertile friends pregnancies have been really shameful. I’ve had some wicked and nasty thoughts. It really has felt like there has been a constant tug of war in my mind. Part of me knowing I have to do the right thing, wanting to do the right thing and another part of me feeling like I’m completely misunderstood and wishing that somebody could understand me, that somebody could experience what I’ve experienced, fighting to not be over whelmed by self pity.  I don’t want to become one of those bitter infertiles. I really do want to be balanced and fair and good. So here’s the thing, don’t be shocked ok? But I have, on occasion, wished that one of my fertile friends could experience what I experience, I have held my breath as each of them announced their pregnancy and wondered if they will get to experience the pain of an early loss. Oh this is hard to admit, but I’ve actually wished that some of them could experience the pain of an early loss. There I said it. I’m a horrible horrible person I know. And trust me, when I think through these thoughts logically, I know I don’t want an innocent baby to die just so that I could feel like somebody actually understands me. Because that is truly not what I want, I guess what I’m looking for is to not feel so isolated. Because I do feel isolated. I feel like I’m the worst kind of infertile. The kind that actually has the audacity to fall pregnant by herself, over and over again. The kind spoken about by other infertiles, the large portion of the infertility group, the ones that cannot get pregnant, the ones who say: “As least you know you can fall pregnant”! Although I have managed to surround myself with the most wonderful group of infertile women, I still on some level feel isolated and alone. I know the joy of seeing two lines on an HPT, I know the joy of having a lab phone me and say: “Congratulations, your Beta confirms you’re approximately 5 weeks pregnant” I know the joy of waking up feeling nauseous, of being so exhausted by the end of the day that I literally fall asleep on the couch, even when we have visitors. Of having the smell of meat make me want to throw up. So yes, I suppose, I feel isolated and misunderstood even amongst the community of people who are more likely to understand me. There are a couple of infertiles out there who do get me, who’ve had to walk the same shitty path as me and for that I am grateful, it helps me not feel so alone.

But I wanted to be understood by my fertile friends, secretly I always hoped that one of them could understand me. A miscarriage is a strange beast, it really doesn’t seem like such a big deal, until you’ve experienced one yourself, you may think you know what the other person is feeling, you may think you know the right things to say, but trust me, you don’t. Do you know how I know this? Because I had a best friend who miscarried her first pregnancy before I was even married. I thought it was sad and was sad for her, but I did not realize the magnitude of what she was experiencing. I did not realize how dibilitating the pain could be. Till I experienced it for myself.

Recently, one of my friends, who has three children has suffered two miscarriages in quick succession. The first miscarriage was a spontaneous one, the second, she carried to 12 weeks before discovering that the babies heart had stopped beating. And for the first time ever, I have somebody in my circle of fertile friends who understands what its like to walk a mile in my shoes. Finally there is somebody who gets why I want to punch people on the nose when they say stupid things like: “At least it happened now and not later” “Well it wasn’t the right time” etc etc. But instead of feeling any kind of relief from finally being understood, all I feel is a tremendous sadness for her that she has to go through this. So I guess I’m not quite the horrible peace of work I thought I was.