Sunday, July 12, 2015

An Open Letter to My Sisters Hurting from Loss and Infertility- Feeling Joy For Others


     I hear it all the time.  From support groups or Facebook pages, or in conversations with those in similar situations.  " I'm a bad person because..." and then a story follows.  Stories about situations that are painful, or offensive- triggers that caused us to cry in our car for an hour afterwards.  Whether the story is about a 18 year old drug addict who is having her second baby with lasting damage from a careless pregnancy, or hearing the news that her sister is having her third baby in the time since they've been trying for one, a story about a friend pretending to shoot herself with her fingers as she announced her 4th pregnancy, or someone saying "at least you only have one, you don't know how lucky you are." You are embarrassed by how much weight you've gained from clomid, or depression.  You dread going home to another day of self-injections, just to expect disappointment at the end of yet another cycle (while a coworker happily tells you that her pregnancy was a "whoopsie!")  You survived one more visit to the OB office (barely) with a less-than-sensitive provider, and a waiting room full of big healthy bellies and complaining expectant mothers, swapping pregnancy horror stories.  I've heard all of these and more.  I've experienced some of them.  We share these stories and then comment on how "we are bad people" because even though we know that new baby coming into the world should be a joyful thing, it ruins our day.  And that sucks.  No one wants to feel like that.  Likely you didn't feel like this before struggling to have children that you very much want.  A baby announcement used to be the happiest, most exciting thing in the world, and now a paradigm shift in your life has changed your response and you feel robbed of that joy.  I'm not immune to this, in fact, I've struggled with it quite a bit.  Some may call it envy, or trigger factors, but whatever you call it, it's relentless and it takes a lot of work to overcome.  It's a struggle to react sincerely when you feel like someone just knocked the wind out of you and you wonder "Will it ever be my turn for a miracle"? You worry about offending someone with your reaction to their happy announcement, or other news regarding healthy babies.  You envy their conviction that without a doubt those two lines confirming pregnancy, will in fact, result in a live birth. They mark a due date on the calendar, sure that by that time they will be full of life and ready to deliver. Why does it hurt when you are SO happy for them?  Because you ARE so happy for them, right?  Do you actually question this on occasion? I've thought a lot about this and I want to share my thoughts.



     The difficult and sad part about infertility/multiple losses is that you have to feel your own pain before you can swallow it and feel joy for others.  You can try to push it aside or ignore it, or tell yourself you're a "bad person" for feeling that stabbing hurt with every pregnancy announcement before you can force a smile and remind yourself to have empathy and feel that joy.  Eventually that joy does come, usually for me it's when I get to hold a newborn baby and wonder to myself how the announcement of their existence ever caused me to feel bitterness or anguish at all.  But it's not really the existence of another sweet child, it's the lack of existence of my lost ones that makes me hurt.  And sometimes, I think it's the lack of understanding or compassion we wish to be shown by those we are trying so hard to show happiness for.  Some people may get so used to your infertility, that as the years go by, it becomes "normal" to them, and maybe they assume it is hurting you less instead of more as time passes.  That pain demands to be felt when a trigger is presented, regardless if that trigger is positive or negative- hearing a friend's pregnancy announcement, or, for me, seeing that a patient in the ER is losing her baby.  Really, the pain from that trigger is the same, but we feel SO much worse about feeling sad because of someone else's joy!  But the longer I've worked at it, the better I am at swallowing that intense shock and hurt, and putting it aside to feel it later in a private moment.  I focus on feeling that intense joy for them- regardless of their ability to understand- because that's the support that I would want to be shown.  Who wants to feel sorrow every time they see a newborn baby?  It used to be the most blissful experience for me and I don't want it tainted.  I only miss my own lost angels.  For myself in trigger situations, I find it helpful to take a deep breath, then exhale and imagine those destructive feelings leave and try to find peace within myself.



     Other couples you may see having as many children as they desire is not a personal attack on you or your dreams (even though I know it really feels that way).  It is what should be "normal" if everything in this world worked ideally.  That feeling of "not being able to do what is natural and what all women should be able to do" is the part that hurts.  Sometimes taking a step back and asking myself "why is this bothering me" is helpful for me to identify the true culprit of why I am upset.  You may feel like an outlier, or even the outcast at work, in church, or maybe a "mommy group".  People may say hurtful or judgmental things to you, but in the end I remind myself "that family having another child really has nothing to do with me at all, why am I letting myself feel offended?" 

     It's true I long for the life that I see other mothers living that I pictured for myself.  My dreams have been pretty ordinary.  I never wanted to be President or play professional sports, or be a world famous musician.  I wanted to be a mother.  I wanted to have a large, happy family.  It would be my focus and what I would dedicate myself to.  I wanted to feel that amazing joy as I gave life to child after child and watch how they grow as part of our family.  Having children appears to be a pretty common ability, so you don't plan on that dream being so difficult or feeling so impossible- unobtainable.  Still, year after year, it feels so far away.  Patience is hard but I become increasingly thankful that I AM a mother, and that I have a child to pour that love and nurturing nature into.  I'm fortunate that I truly know what a blessing he is. 

     Before I stop to scold myself for feeling sorrow as I watch others live my dream, I have to remember, "What kind of mother would I be if I DIDN'T feel sorrow for my lost ones or my empty womb?  What if I didn't care?" What I'm feeling is mourning, and how a mother's love can hurt.  It's just as natural as that intense joy you feel as a mother.  Allow yourself to feel the intense pain, give yourself time and space, and avoid triggers if you need to- but also allow yourself to feel joy for others!  Imagine the burden that would be lifted from your life if you could learn to share in the joy of others, despite your pain.  Imagine the day that miraculous joy becomes yours and you want to feel that love and support from others.  It's no wonder there are "post-infertility" support groups.  These moms struggle with a new kind of guilt that they are now "one of them" and they don't know how to place their feelings. 

     We as women should try as hard as we can not to place a dividing line between us.  We are all in different places and have different struggles (some that we may be insensitive to others about without even knowing).  We can't hate women around us for having blessings we desire while we overlook our own blessings.  We are all daughters of God, we need the love and support of sisters all around us.  Don't hate yourself for feeling that pain, because it is a true and necessary part of this awful struggle.  If it was easy, it wouldn't be hard,  But, try not to harbor bitterness, you will be so much happier if you don't feed that part of your pain.  It's going to hurt- more than you could have imagined- but don't make infertility your whole identity, or fertility the whole identity of someone else.  It's a shallow way to think of ourselves ladies- there is so much more to all of us.  We all deserve to be loved and treasured- and we deserve to love ourselves.  I am not in a place to offer advice pretending that I am perfect.  This is an issue I have struggled with again and again.  Writing this is a huge reminder to me of the goals I expect myself to live up to.  I may not understand your pain or situation, but Christ does.  Turn to him in your darkest hour and remember that you are not alone in this heartbreaking journey, He is there with all of us, despite any of our shortcomings.  I wish all of you peace, strength through pain, and every miracle.