To be honest, I felt like the air was knocked out of my lungs after I blogged about fertility. It was kind of scary, and I wondered why I had just posted things about my uterus to the entire world. Uh, hello! Sure, we all know that dudes have boy parts and girls have lady parts, but did you need to know that much about me?
Yeah. You probably did.
You see, we live in a fertile world. Hallelujah, this is a good and right thing! God created us so we can procreate. If you know the details about how a human life is made, then you know how amazing this process is. Thank God most folks easily make offspring. But… when you can’t make babies, this fertile world becomes overwhelming.
As it turns out, there are pregnant bellies and babies everywhere.
You know how, when you’re shopping for a new car, you start noticing that same vehicle everywhere you look? Dealing with infertility is kind of like that. Except way worse. There are, in no particular order:
- Negative pregnancy tests for you.
- Positive ones for your friends and family.
- Facebook announcements (giant groan).
- Baby showers.
- Baby showers you are asked to host.
- Commercials for diaper ointments.
- T-shirts that boldly state, “I’m so crafty I make people!”
- Cute tops in Target that you didn’t realize were maternity (whoops!).
- Aisles upon aisles of baby items that you carefully avoid.
- Conversations about pregnancy.
- Conversations about pregnancy food cravings.
- Conversations about labor and delivery.
- Conversations about diapering choices.
- Conversations about breastfeeding.
- Etc.
- Etc.
- Etc.
Here’s the thing, fertile friends. I don’t want you to stop enjoying your pregnancy because of me. You should never feel guilty about getting pregnant, about being pregnant, or about having a baby. Never ever ever. Even on my darkest days, I believe that pregnancy and childbirth and beautiful squishy babies are gifts from God.
But here’s the other thing: I don’t have to join the conversations about stretch marks and midwife visits and nursery decorating. Sometimes it’s a matter of self-preservation and I will quietly remove myself from a potentially painful situation. Ask any gal dealing with infertility about how she feels about Facebook announcements and you will learn that she will write her congratulations directly on someone’s wall rather than on a thread. Because even if she’s thrilled for the new mother, she knows better than to join a thread where she’ll be reading, “Congrats on the baby girl!!!” for the next five days straight. It’s just too painful.
So what can you do to love and care for your friends struggling with fertility issues?
You can, in private, get to know them. With a gentle and understanding spirit, ask them how they are feeling, how they are doing, and what is and isn’t difficult for them. (For example, a friend of mine doesn’t want to know anything about a birth story whereas I would join you in the delivery room in a heartbeat if you’d ask me.) Listen carefully and don’t push for answers. If your friend is uncomfortable talking with you, switch subjects and honor her desire for privacy.
You can respect their choices. Invite them to the baby shower, but be respectful if they need to opt out. If you have mercy meals at your church, allow them to sign up to deliver one to a new mom rather than asking them to do so.
You can practice empathy. Try to put yourself in their shoes and imagine how it might feel to not be able to conceive month after month. Consider that type of suffering and amp up your prayers for this friend. Send a compassionate note or an encouraging email. A little cheer, a little hope, a little good word goes a long way.
You can share in their sadness. If you are close friends, let them know you have a shoulder to cry on at any hour of the day. While you can’t have this depth of relationship with many people, you need to offer yourself to the friends you already have. Make sure the shared suffering part is a two-way street though. No one ever wants to be the only crier, the only soul-exposing one in a friendship!
**To those who have dealt with infertility, what did I leave out?
**To those caring for friends dealing with infertility, what did I leave out? Was this post specific enough? Would you like more questions answered?
More to come.
17 Comments
Krista Mar 11, 2011 12:48 PM
Same sort of thing applies to those of us who are single and still searching for the right one. Sometimes, when we haven’t been on any dates in a while, it can feel like we’re traveling in a desert desperate for an oasis but only seeing mirages.
happygirl Mar 11, 2011 1:35 PM
Tact, sensitivity and kindness are a limited commodity these days. I hope you have dear friends to care for your through your life.
Barb Mar 11, 2011 1:40 PM
I can’t tell you how I appreciate your posting these heartfelt and honest reflections. They have enlightened me and touched my heart. Even the comment by Krista touches me. Sometimes, our hard places are invisible to the world.
Sarah M Mar 11, 2011 1:49 PM
Thanks for sharing, again, Rebecca. These reflections are so touching, and really courageous that you’re putting yourself and your emotions out there. I pray for your peace and comfort.
Loved what Barb said–“our hard places are invisible to the world”–so true.
S
Jen Mar 11, 2011 1:52 PM
I think the best thing you can do, Rebecca, is tell me what I can do. Too often my heart aches for someone dealing with this issue, and I feel helpless, yet don’t want to make it worse by seemingly insensitive words or offers of help. You are equipping me to love well.
charity Mar 11, 2011 2:00 PM
I totally agree that it’s different for everyone and the best thing to do is ask. For me, I enjoy talking to friends about their pregnancies and kiddos, but when it comes to three to four women doing so, it’s too much.
And reiterate about being understanding if I bow out of a baby shower or party where it’s largely parents with babies.
Bethany Mar 11, 2011 2:00 PM
Agreed with everyone else who’s commented to thank you for writing about this. Any time someone is grappling with grief of any kind, it is hard for one outside the grief to know how to love well. So thanks for giving us insight into your heart.
andy Mar 11, 2011 2:11 PM
No facebook helps. Honestly I think being a guy helps. I never get the shower invites and am happy not to go. Painful on this side of the gender divide as well.
Rebecca Mar 11, 2011 3:12 PM
(Important note to my good friends: I am doing fine right now. If I was in a dark place, full of longing and jealousy and sadness, there is no way I would write blog posts about it. Okay, carry on. I love you, too.)
Sarah Mar 11, 2011 3:34 PM
thank you for continuing this topic. it is encouraging and enlightening to read, RT. thank you for your honesty.
Aubrey Mar 11, 2011 10:28 PM
Here are some things that aren’t helpful:
1. Saying things like “just relax.”
2. talking about your friend who couldn’t conceive and then adopted and got pregnant.
For me, one thing that was hard sometimes was going to this bible study with several other women who were all pregnant – one of whom would continually rub her belly. She wasn’t doing it to be mean and I don’t even think she knew we were trying, but eventually I just stopped going because it was too hard.
I also agree that while sometimes I enjoy being able to talk about it, there are also times that I don’t want to – it already feels like a problem that I can’t ever get away from. I don’t always want to be asked about it, but an occasional “hey how are you doing?” is nice.
Infertility feels different to everyone, and different things bother different people, so your advice to be understanding was spot on.
Excellent post, again. Thanks.
sommer waite Mar 12, 2011 11:10 AM
I think it was such a sweet time going to the Mill late on a weekend night and talking about “infertility” and what it is like specifically for you. You have done such a good job in creating a safe “vibe” in doing this. I think that’s also important. I think you have given freedom to invite me in to ask. Also, been thinking a lot about what you two said about Molly Pipers blog and how she said don’t say, “I can’t imagine what that would be like.” Because chances are if you “imagined” what it would be like you would have a pretty good idea what it would be like. Much love to you Rebecca. Looking forward to dinner soon with you are your sweet family.
alina Mar 13, 2011 8:36 PM
Hey Friend,
Thanks for sharing this. This is so helpful for those of use who don’t walk this same path but have friends and family who do. Such good points…Thanks for your graciousness and bravery.
Rebecca Mar 14, 2011 7:59 AM
Krista, thank you for bringing up singleness. There are definitely similarities here and I’m glad folks are talking about it. Read my lovely friend Lindsey’s post here:
You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You
tasha Mar 14, 2011 8:56 PM
aww dear friend….you know how i feel….(like to hide the belly under a rock) but like i’v told you in the past i’m hear to listen to you….and i have a uterus you can borrow…well soon….and tell mr tredway i’m serious!!
Rebecca Mar 15, 2011 11:24 AM
Oh Tasha, I love your pregnant belly that houses sweet baby Anna–can’t wait to meet her! And, if surrogacy ever sounds remotely good to me, then I’m calling on you. :)
Jill Mar 23, 2011 4:54 PM
While I see her point, I’d like to respectfully disagree with Krista. It might be similar if someone told you you’re NEVER gonna meet that special somebody, and you have to live the rest of your life knowing that.
But anyway, I think my two biggest pet peeves are:
a) new and expectant mother parking
b) single flowers handed out at businesses on Mother’s Day (but the people handing them out usually insist on giving me one, even though I’m not a mother, which is sweet of them)
I also belong to a church with a young and seemingly fertile membership. For a period of about 4 months, I think we had baptisms every week. While I know and agree that it’s a sacred and blessed event, it kind of feels like a kick in the teeth some days.
Love reading your blogs about this subject, Rebecca. :)