Fade in:
Scene:
Woman, approximately 38 years old (looks much younger, thankyouverymuch) in a cafe or relaxed-bar type setting. Smartly dressed. Carrying interesting reading material and deciding what drink to order.
Cue voice over.
Countless blood tests, an HSG and three rounds of clomid, followed by one month on Femara and a canceled-at-the-last-minute IUI:
$1,254
After taking a long hiatus, more blood tests, four months of clomid with IUIs:
$1,000
Weekly acupuncture sessions and vile concoctions of home-brewed, gag-inducing Chinese herbs:
$1600
Looking at IVF this winter which is, of course, not covered by insurance:
$20,000+
Having your younger sister call and announce that she’s pregnant:
Priceless.
I am trying to be happy for her. I am happy for her. But my GOD, did the universe look around for a way to make going through IVF harder than it already is and stumble upon this?!
I know, it’s terrible and evil to be so narcissistic about this. My sister getting pregnant is NOT about me.
But still.
I have struggled with this for so long now. Since we’ve started trying, ten of my close friends have gotten pregnant and had babies. Some of them have even had TWO kids during this time it’s been so long.
I’ve thrown baby showers. I’ve attended showers and baby-naming ceremonies and bought gifts and sent meals and cards and congratulations and heartfelt good wishes.
I’ve called friends and sent e-mails. I’ve stopped by to visit new babies and brought baskets of onesies and bottles and stuffed animals. I’ve babysat so a brand new Mom could pack for a cross-country trip.
Over the years I’ve tried to access what I call the Better Part of Me. The part that is genuinely happy and thrilled for other’s good fortune. The part that knows it isn’t about me or my problems. The part that knows a healthy, happy baby for another person does not impact my chances of having a baby one day.
The BPOM understands that this family-building business is not a zero-sum game, where a gain for someone else is automatically a loss for me.
But still.
Still…
How do I not turn my sister’s happiness into my unhappiness, which is just the most petty, small-minded way of approaching life? I don’t want to be that person.
Instead, I want to be happy and hopeful. My sister had a very early miscarriage last year, so she’s petrified. I want to be happy she got pregnant again and send her good wishes that this pregnancy works out. That she has a healthy, easy pregnancy and a happy, healthy baby nine months from now. I want to be happy that my parents will become grandparents and that I’ll be an aunt for the first time.
And I do feel these things.
But I want all of these happy, positive thoughts to erase the sadness and self-pity I also feel, and I guess it just doesn’t work that way sometimes.
Scene:
Smartly-dressed, younger-than-38-looking woman finally placing her order.
"I’ll have something strong with extra alcohol and make that a DOUBLE," she says.
Fade out.
Cut to commercial.
Bosco says:
"Buck up woman! Infertility is NOT for wimps! Now get me a rawhide bone or I’ll chew your Uggs faster than you can say ‘Ohhhh, Poor Me’!!"
Ohhhh, Watson. Sigh. I totally understand what you are saying. I keep talking about this, but I can’t stop because it is burned into my memory….Last year my cousin announced that she was pregnant right after I did. As soon as I found out she was pregnant, I knew that I would miscarry the twins. It was just an intuitive, gut feeling. I KNEW that I could never be so fortunate as to be pregnant at the exact same time as someone else in my family. (at the time of her announcement, I was on strict bed rest from bleeding, but the babies were still okay at that point) I don’t know why I thought that at the time….perhaps it is because I DO believe that a happy, healthy 9 month pregnancy for someone else I know truly does lessen my odds of success. It’s probably stupid — but my best friend got pregnant 3 months before I did last year, and then when my cousin got pregnant at almost the exact same time as I did…..I just felt that was it. I knew their pregnancies would be totally fine, and would produce perfectly healthy babies, but mine would not. And unfortunately I was right.
And in August, just after my blighted ovum/failed pregnancy, another very good friend told me she was pregnant — she got pregnant in July, about 4 weeks before I did. Of course she is still pregnant today…..and well, we all know what happened in August for me. We would have been due only one month apart had my pregnancy worked out.
So, I don’t know what else to say……This is probably not helping you at all, I’m sorry — As you can see, I have many “issues” with this whole thing myself!
Of course you are happy for your sister, and you wish her well….I know you do….But it doesn’t change the fact that you wish you could have the same thing. I know that’s how I felt….I was glad that my cousin, best friend, and now other friend had/are having great, easy pregnancies…. I would never wish them harm, but it hurts so much when these women starting trying to get pregnant AFTER I did — and they all have their babies/will have their baby looooooong before I ever will.
At this point, all I ask for is ONE healthy pregnancy and ONE healthy baby. That’s it. And I wish that for you as well.
I could have written this post last year.
My sister came here in January last year when I lost my first twins, when she got home she pretty much must have got pregnant straight away but denied it for months and waited to tell me… until Mothers Day. Yup! Fucking Mothers Day.
My nephew is nearly 1 and I’m totally in love with him, and she’s ready to try for number 2.
I’m still at the starting gate. And it’s not about me, that BPOM knows that- but it IS. How can I not be constantly reminded of my failings?
Part of me feels like I shouldn’t comment, especially when I haven’t in so long, but I just felt the need to send you some support. While I can’t know exactly how this all feels, I do remember bursting into tears upon hearing about my nephew’s birth, as I was still waiting to have a successful pregnancy and would have been about due with my first had I not miscarried. I hated that that was my immediate response. It hurt so much, and I hated that something that’s only supposed to bring joy brought me so much pain. It sucks, no matter how good a person you are, and it sucks that it sucks. Anyway, just know that I’m out here pulling for you, and hoping hoping hoping for your healthy little one too.
Bosco:
C’mon–cut mommy a little break. She deserves it. And stay away from the expensive shoes.
Watson:
I think this is just a scar we all carry after loss, and there’s no getting around it. I’m in my first trimester, and I _still_ get wildly jealous when I hear about other people getting pregnant–whole strangers, mind you. Forget it if someone close to me had such news. (I’ve also found that the day or two after the announcement is the hard time and that shortly thereafter I can actually be happy for that person without feeling the need to grit my teeth through it.)
And I’d also say that the thing about handling grief is that it’s entirely possible–if not necessary–to have room to feel most pleased and miserable in the exact same moment.
Enjoy the booze or anything else that can help you feel better as you take in this news, which is always, always hard and really couldn’t be otherwise.
Thank you for reassuring me I’m not the cruel, heartless bitch I sometimes fear I am! Although I’m sorry you’ve experienced similar situations, it is very helpful to know I’m not alone.
MA, you summed it up so well: Times like this remind me of my failings, too, and it’s not like I NEED reminding, thank you very much!
As always, love you gals — you’re the best.
xoxoxoxox,
Watson
News like this just sucks to hear. And Watson, you are not cruel and heartless, just broken hearted. There is a world of difference.
Oh no. I’m so sorry. It doesn’t matter how much you love the other person, it still hurts like a bitch to get a pregnancy announcement. (I, too, still get jealous when someone announces their pregnancy–there’s just no way to erase that resentment, even though I’m pg myself.) I don’t think the happy feelings you have for your sister can cancel out the sadness for yourself, but I think it’s something to know that the feelings can coexist–that is, while the happy doesn’t cancel out the sad, neither can the sad cancel out the happy. Does that make sense?
holy shit. I’m so sorry Watson. sometimes it does feel like a zero sum game especially when everyone else is always taking the winnings, so to speak. you’re feelings are completely understandable.
thinking of you.
I know exactly how you feel. My younger sister had her 4th child when we had been trying for a while. Then later, my friends, who just got married, announced they were pregnant and my brother-in-law announced they were pregnant with their 2nd. This whole infertility thing just sucks!
I think fighting against it makes you a better person. Perhaps better than me, much of the time. The BPOM/Y gets a chance to flex some muscles and grow strong. I don’t have any “how to” advice except keep up the fight.
Bea
I think we should all have a little Bosco remider at times … but there are also those time when the great news of others IS a big fat reminder of our losses. The better part of us does still exist – but we have been grieving this for years. And there are always reminders which keep the would raw. Don’t be too hard on yourself – you’re not being a bitch – just a normal infertile person.
Oh Watson. What a hard thing to have to hear. One of the worst things about infertility (apart from the obvious one) is the loss of ability to be full-on happy for friends and family at times like these. We want to think of ourselves as good people who are glad about our loved ones’ good fortune, but IF robs us of that by putting grief, sadness, jealousy (and sometimes even anger) in the way. It sucks.
But please don’t be too hard on yourself. As others have said above, you’re just reacting normally for someone in this sucky situation. Feeling sad for yourself even as you struggle to be really happy for your sister doesn’t make you a bad person. And even if it did, you’d be in good company — since all of us in IF Blogworld have been there many times.
Hang in there, mamacita! Have a good cry, go out and find a doggy rain hat to match Bosco’s red coat, then mix up a pitcher of sangria and dress him up. It won’t change anything, but you’ll have hours of drunken fun making the dog look silly. And that can’t be bad, right?
You are human and infertility is hard to go through, so your feelings are NORMAL – even though your rational mind knows they are technically not in the moral high ground.
The rest of the world will keep reproducing. Most women trying to get pregnant will have to deal with the one (or more, maybe many more) who beat them to the prize. As common as the jealousy is, it is still very real and very hard to embrace.
Like many of the previous commenters, I have been there – It stung to hear that my brother accidentally knocked up his girlfriend, and that my cousins are all in some stage of pregnancy right now. Everyone is doing it, why can’t I?
At least you’ve got Bosco to keep you from wallowing in self-pity!
Yup, I’m there too. My sister (severe endometriosis, no job, loser of a spouse, etc) got knocked up while we were gearing up for IVF #3.
Knocked up, just like that.
She gave birth days before a BFN came in. We don’t speak, but then we didn’t speak before that, but I swear it felt so personal and so raw I couldn’t believe it.
Now, I am the Pregnancy Fairy. All I have to do is look at people, wave my sparkly HPT, and you can be pregnant.
Or at least that applies to every single menstruating woman around me.
Oh boy, does that suck. I found it particularly hard to take b/c my sister is three years younger. But it does get easier to deal with after the initial shock. Although the first time you see her with an obvious bump will be hard too. I so hope that it gets to be your turn soon!