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Oversharing

Husband works in an industry in which socializing, dinners and shmoozing are the  norm. On occasion, I have to attend dinners with him and, *ahem*, socialize. Honestly, not my strong point. I get tongue tied and nervous  when having to conversate with these hospital directors wives.  As in any social situation we always manage to get around to the subject of children. In fact, its usually the first thing spoken about, considering it is the one point of interest that many people have in common. Most times in these cases, however, these people’s children are often closer to my age or just getting married or are off in Spain or France or Italy to study abroad. Diapers, nap times, play dates and first grade are faint memories, old photographs that bring a smile to their lips. So when talking about children, husband likes to share Avery’s adoption story. I’m not all that thrilled, and I wonder when her adoption isn’t go to be a major focus of his story anymore. I mean, there will come a point when she’s not going to be too thrilled if he introduces her as Avery our adopted daughter, this is how it all went down. The other part of his story that I am FAR. LESS. THRILLED. ABOUT. is the part where he captivates his audience by sharing my journey through IVF and miscarriage. It is my story. Yes it is his story too, but it is mostly mine. It is still raw and it is still one that makes me cry. And I can not cry at a table with professionals. So inevitably, I have to excuse myself to the restroom, gather my wits and return to the table with a smile on my face.

Well, last night, it somehow got brought up. And I kindly and gently informed husband that I wished that he didn’t speak so freely of my IVF and miscarriages to people that we don’t know or have just met in a purely professional environment. His reaction was not at all what I expected. Instead of responding in a respectful and understanding manner, he informed me that I needed to get over it. GET OVER IT. “You have a baby”, he said, “You need to just get over it. It’s not a big deal anymore.” I started to cry.

I was stunned.

How could weeks and months of shots and medications and weight gain and pain and spending our entire savings be nothing?

How could going to the doctor’s office by myself and learning that the tiny little thing in my uterus didn’t have a heart beat any longer be nothing?

How could suffering from severe morning sickness day after day only to learn that the sac is growing nicely but that it is empty be nothing?

How can two D&C procedures in five months time be nothing?

And so  I explained to him that it was by far the most difficult journey I have ever been on and that it was the worst part of my life thus far. I then told him that he was a narccistic asshole that needed sensitivity training and that I wasn’t speaking to him anymore.

Because here is the deal. I am still infertile. He is still infertile. We are still infertile. AND IT STILL HURTS.

Yes I have a baby now. A beatiful, wonderful baby girl who was brought to us not through biology but through the court system. We love her just the same. There is no doubt in my mind that she is my daughter and I don’t love her a smidge less just because she wasn’t born to me. But you know? I am greedy. I don’t know if I’m done yet. I may want another. And guess what? I can’t just go to bed with my husband when we decide we are ready to try. I have to contact the social workers, have them assess whether or not we are ready for another, have my home re-inspected, and then sit and wait and hope. And once we are placed again, I have to live in fear for 8 months that some long lost relative will come out of the woodwork to steal the baby away. I am still infertile. The fact that I now carry a baby on my hip and can no longer pee in private has nothing to do with my husband’s reproductive system. It has nothing to do with the shape of my uterus or the condition of my eggs.

And my story, my own private story, still hurts.

Infertility and what we’ve gone through doesn’t go away with a baby. The hurt may be less acute. We may not think of it every second of every day like we did before baby. But it is still there. In the back of our minds, we know when we are ovulating and we are still hoping against all hope that a miracle will occur at the end of the month. Even with baby, we are still just infertile women who are lucky enough to, through science or the system, achieve motherhood. We are still sitting on the sidelines, rooting everyone on, being equal parts ecstatic and jealous when a successful cycle is announced. Jealous when one of us “graduates” to the OB, jealous because some of us will never experience a successful cycle and some of us will never graduate to the OB.

Now husband is on the road, off to my brother’s bachelor party, off to have a hell of a time after breaking my heart. And I am sad. And angry. And I hope he gets food poisoning or heat exhastion or something equally terrible but not bad enough to kill him. Because hey, on top of feeling sad and angry, I am also feeling just a tad bit vengeful. And maybe, just maybe, I’d be secretly gleeful if he had to sit on the toilet while everyone else was out having fun.

My heart is also heavy this morning after watching the news and learning of the shooting out in Colorado. I can’t even begin to think of a scarier thing happening then being in a darkened theatre and having a smoke bomb go off followed by gun fire. My heart goes out to the families of the victims. Of course I don’t know them personally, but I was still brought to tears. How selfish for one person, one evil piece of humanity, to snuff out so many bright, shining souls. No matter what his motive, it will never be good enough. No motive will ever truly explain why. No motive can ever justify such calculated cruelty. In the coming days people will wonder. They will wonder about his mental health and his childhood. They will wonder if he lost his job or was failing out of school or if his parents didn’t hug him enough or if maybe his parents hugged him too much. But all of the wondering won’t do a damn thing. And really, if all of the questions are answered, will it matter? Will it bring back those who died in such a horrific way? Will it erase the nightmares of the survivors? Will it take away their guilt for surviving when their best friend or brother or neighbor didn’t? No, it won’t. I couldn’t imagine my children being taken from me, in such an innocent venue, in such a vicious way. There would be no excuse. There would be no explaination that would soothe me.

Anyway, I know that these two subjects are vastly different but they are what is on my mind right now.

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About Tricia #GrowingUpNelson

First grandaughter, mother of two, lover of books and bad music, aspiring to be a mostly vegan always vegetarian. Nearly 365 days Xanax free and hating it. #GrowingUpNelson

7 responses »

  1. Your post is so raw, so heartfelt and so true. I want more than anything to take away some of your pain but I can’t. I do want you to know that I’m sending you all kinds of love and that I understand 100% that a take home baby – be it an adopted or biological child – is not a cure for infertility and does not erase the pain. I am also sending just a sliver of vibe that your husband gets whatever nasty case of the poops that Mr. Husband and I had this week 😉

    Reply
  2. I’m so sorry to hear about this fight. That’s a hard one. That said, thank you for writing about your feelings. I think this post is a must read for any couple who has been on the infertility road. Too often, one partner shares their journey publicly despite the discomfort of the other. The justification ranges from “get over it” to “it’s my journey too and I should be able to talk about it” all the way to “we need to open up so infertility isn’t a taboo issue.” I’m all for breaking the infertility myth, but I also believe that couples need to be on the same page about what to share. Infertility is traumatic enough.

    I hope that you are able to find some peace over the next few days and that when your husband returns you are able to come to some understanding.

    Reply
    • It is not that I am against sharing, I’m very open about our struggles even though I don’t share this page with too many people IRL. It is just that in this situation, with a new, professional relationship, it is hard to hear the story over and over. It is a story that makes me sad. Yes, it happened, but we don’t have to tell every single person that we meet. And also, truthfully, I sometimes I feel that he uses it to gain business. Not in a feel sorry for me give me business way, but in a we’re best friends I tell you everything type of way. I don’t know if that makes sense! =)

      Reply
  3. Wow. This post got me thinking… and, yep, I’d be super pissed off at my husband if he had behaved this way and then told me to get over it after I expressed my feelings. Double whammy. I think your feelings are so very valid, and he just needs to listen to them again and think about it from your point of view until it sinks in. Sucks that he’s off to party it up and is not likely to be giving any thought to the fight or the issue behind it. I hope he’s overcome with guilt at some point and comes home early with a big gift and a bigger apology.
    Thinking of you, sending strength and hugs.

    Reply
  4. My wonderful husband surprised the hell out of me by announcing, to the guy cooking our takeaway kebab dinner, that we would “soon” be trying for a child. I say “soon” because IVF is still about 20 months away for us. I didn’t know whether to be pleased he was discussing it or maddened that he had just announced our infertility to an entire bemused shop of kebab-eaters.

    I’m sorry your husband responded like that. It’s easy to forget that the husband doesnt take the same exact journey as the wife :S

    Reply
  5. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. It’s one thing to share a couple of times with people you know and trust, but over and over with a room full of strangers is a completely different story. I hope he realizes what he’s doing to you. And maybe gets the poops.

    Reply

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