Join the Movement: Challenge Someone’s Thinking, Grow Their Understanding

April 25, 2013 / / 10 comments
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It’s easy to become desensitized to causes, to no longer see the badges, banners, ribbons, stickers and Facebook covers. After a while they all blur together.

That’s why the narratives behind causes matter. Stories resonate. They grow our wisdom and understanding not only of others but of ourselves. After all, it’s not the disease or condition that galvanizes attention. What really captures hearts and opens minds is the drama that accompanies it; the difficult questions raised along the way.

That’s why during this year’s National Infertility Awareness Week, I’d like to focus on (and discuss) what infertility does to us.

Let’s start with the basics. It’s daunting to be diagnosed with infertility in large part because it’s complex. We’re not raised or socialized to expect it. Not all require (or can afford) multiple rounds of medical intervention. Fertility treatments work for some, for many others of us they lead to new forms of heartbreak. Surrounding the biological mystery, there’s wave upon wave of emotional turmoil. Add to this combustible mix societal judgment and misinformation and it’s no wonder most people who experience infertility choose to remain silent about it.

That said, it would be an interesting exercise to engage those not directly affected by infertility and ask them to contemplate, deeply, some of the very questions that we’ve had to consider. (There’s one ground rule: park the glib answers outside.)

QUESTIONS

What shifts inside upon learning that your reproductive organs are malfunctioning? How far would you go to unravel the mystery? What fears arise in the process? What conventional wisdom gets turned upside down? How does infertility change your view of yourself, your relationships?

There are no right or wrong answers.

LESSONS

Regardless of how infertility is resolved, those of us who have confronted it firsthand come away forever changed as a result. This was the focus of a recent conversation documentary producer Irina Vodar and I had recently as we continue to exchange ideas and make progress on a new film that explores infertility in ways not seen before. Here are just some of the lessons we’ve exchanged in emails and phone calls:

  • Infertility forces a re-think of priorities and life’s milestones.
  • Infertility teaches us about our limitations.
  • Infertility challenges our sense of what’s possible.
  • Infertility makes us vulnerable and and emotionally fragile.
  • Infertility also makes us resilient and strong
  • Infertility moves us off the beaten path.
  • Infertility teaches us patience and grace.
  • Infertility gives us a way to bond deeply with others.
  • Infertility stays with us always.
  • Infertility, if we allow it, transforms us for the better.

This is just the beginning. There’s clearly more we can add to this list. We welcome your contributions and comments.

By the way, you can see the film’s elevator pitch here. We’ll keep you updated on progress over the coming months.

Also, when you get a minute, click on over to see my latest contribution to the Seleni Institute: A Guide to Infertility Etiquette Part I: How to help your friends and family help you.

Finally, learn more about Infertility and National Infertility Awareness Week:

Category: Different Than I Expected, Documentary, Linking Around, What I Wish I'd Know Then / Tags: , , ,

Grief Is a Form of Love

April 8, 2013 / / 14 comments
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It’s been a few years since I first began to pick up the pieces broken and splintered off in the tempest of infertility.

Because there were no instructions for reassembly, no “how to cope with infertility” imparted by elders or learned through societal observation, I’ve had my fair share of trial and error.

There were times when I tried to force a piece into place in a well-intended but bungled attempt to hurry the rebuilding process. For instance, feigning happiness at pregnancy and birth announcements before I’d fully come to terms with the impact of my own alpha pregnancy losses. My disingenuousness only served to make me feel uncomfortable in a different sort of way.

Back I’d go to the proverbial drawing board for more reflection on my messy emotions, more working out the complexity of fitting into a world that didn’t always want to (or know how to) make room for women like me: the unexplained infertility case, the involuntarily childless.

The truth is this: I didn’t realize I was in the early stages of confronting my grief and neither did those around me.

It was only in experiencing firsthand “twinship,” a concept that Dr. Marni Rosner explained as “relationships that provide the feeling that there are others like me in the world, someone who understands me” that I was able to release and explore what had once been bottled up inside.

A few recent articles help further illuminate the importance of participating fully in the grieving process.

In a New York Times op-ed titled, “Diagnosis: Human,” Ted Gup writes about the death of his son due to a fatal mix of alcohol and drugs. He questions why society is so quick to reach for a pill to cure all of our ills. He cautions that the D.S.M. 5 (the latest American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) may be overlooking the basic need of humans to learn to cope, to become resilient and to grieve.

He points out that, “Challenge and hardship have become pathologized and monetized. Instead of enhancing our coping skills, we undermine them and seek shortcuts where there are none, eroding the resilience upon which each of us, at some point in our lives, must rely.”

Rather than try to contain grief or treat it artificially, he writes:

The D.S.M. would do well to recognize that a broken heart is not a medical condition, and that medication is ill-suited to repair some tears. Time does not heal all wounds, closure is a fiction, and so too is the notion that God never asks of us more than we can bear. Enduring the unbearable is sometimes exactly what life asks of us.

Powerful stuff.

Across the continent and the Atlantic Ocean, Jody Day, a writer and advocate for women in transition, adds still more insight to the importance of grieving in the company of others. In her post called, “You’re Not Crazy, You’re Grieving,” she writes:

No one can grieve alone, inside their head, because that’s not how grief works. Grief is a form of love, and it requires company – it needs to see its reality reflected back to itself from the heart and soul of another human being. Just as love does.

I wholeheartedly agree.

Whether it’s Ted or Jody or you or me, we all benefit when we have a healthy and productive way to integrate loss and hardship into our lives. In helping each other to develop coping skills and resilience we, in turn, can heal and grow and find peace.

Today I understand more than ever the concept “that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” I appreciate more fully that we function better by integrating loss and sorrow in a supportive environment.

For now, I leave you with another story, “Older People Just As Happy Without Children,” and a link to the study behind the article titled: Childlessness and Psychological Well-Being in Midlife and Old Age. It contains this nugget:

Although infertile persons may go through a phase of finding life empty and unfulfilling (Callan & Noller, 1987), there is little to suggest that involuntary childlessness may cause a continuing sense of loss, as some have suggested (Beets, 1996; Matthews & Matthews, 1986). Childless adults appear to adapt well to their situation, finding companionship, support, and a sense of meaning and significance in other ways (e.g., Rempel, 1985).

Grief, like love, is a powerful emotion and can take us to new places of growth and understanding.

For more on what I’ve learned, you’ll find this interview on the RESOLVE New England website, A Conversation On Life Beyond Children.

As always, welcome your thoughts.

Category: Different Than I Expected, Linking Around, Remembrance, What I Wish I'd Know Then / Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Why Do We Pretend Away Infertility?

March 25, 2013 / / 29 comments
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Warning: This post may disturb those who still believe in fairy tales.

Humans don’t do well with emotional discomfort of any kind. This has been proven time and time again, but no more so than with infertility. It can be traumatizing on many levels, but I guess I didn’t realize how difficult an infertility diagnosis can be on other people.

They just do not want to see it, hear it or talk about it. They prefer to pretend it away.

Are you cured? Boy, I sure hope so because that means I can finally relax.

This universal sigh of relief was made abundantly evident in a recent post called The Magical Cure by Cristy (one of the most eloquent and sensitive infertility bloggers I know). She gave me insight into an experience I never had: sharing news of a pregnancy.

The responses she encountered made me shake my head in disbelief (as did a few of the comments). Cristy writes:

All the sudden, those who were distant are actively trying to enter our lives, wanting to share in the excitement. Yet too often, this excitement is prefaced with people wanting to ignore the past, ignoring the scars that are still very visible. Worse yet are those who are quick to offer the ‘see, you just needed to do X’ or ‘it all worked out for the best.’

Don’t even get me started on the ‘G_d’s will/plan” explanations.

 

Avoidance or denial seems to be society’s preferred way of coping with infertility. You can just hear the thought bubbles forming overhead…

What? Use the experience of watching a friend, family member or colleague confront a difficult diagnosis to reflect on how someone else might wanted to be treated? Instead of my perfected duck and run move you want me to try to understand this prolonged period of infertility uncertainty and loss? You mean you want me to be an adult about it?

Well, yes actually, that would be a nice change of pace.

It made me wonder how emotionally-stunted people manage with other hard-to-process diseases or unpleasant realities. Apparently, this “pretend the infertility away” syndrome doesn’t just happen when pregnancy occurs, the pattern repeats itself as evidenced by S.I.F. who commented about the radical behavior change she witnessed following her recent adoption.

Since bringing Cheeks home, I have been AMAZED at the people who have suddenly warmed up to me in major ways, after being cold or distant for a long time. It honestly shocked me, but then one of my close friends (who was there for me all along) finally said ‘Those are the people who just didn’t know how to handle your infertility, or how vocal you were about it. Now that you have a baby, they feel like they can be friends with you again.’

Seriously!!?

To use one my favorite Irish expressions, it’s time to give out — and I’m not just aiming this at the fertile world. Some of the worst offenders in perpetuating the myth that babies (or extended travel or therapy or a new outlook) cure infertility reside in the infertility community. If I could assemble all the “curists” in one room, here’s what I’d say:

Life is not a Disney movie, people. Infertility stays with you, always. You survive it. It changes who you are, how you see the world and where you fit in, among other things.

Contrary to conventional wisdom there is no magic formula that delivers TV-talk show closure. There is no tapping our heels together three times and, voilà, cured! The truth is it takes time for the many wounds to heal — and sometimes they re-open. Each of us comes to terms with infertility in our own way, but even that can be complicated by the weird way society expects us to pretend away something that has shaken us to the core. It’s only when we can give voice to our infertility experience and be heard that we can find our north star and move forward.

One more thing (and this may be a particularly hard concept to accept): children are not the elixir for happiness. Beyond being massively unfair to expect any child to shoulder that burden — making you happy — it’s important to remember that happiness comes from within, as does finding peace with all the messiness of life.

For those for you still in avoidance or denial mode, please give my regards to the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny.

Now back to living and relishing my life (infertility scars and all) — grateful for women like Cristy and others who aren’t afraid to tell it like it us.

Category: Anecdotes and Studies, Relationships, Society / Tags: , , , , , ,

Sheryl and Erin Mix it Up

March 20, 2013 / / 9 comments
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Very few women (or men for that matter) reach the lofty business heights of the latest Mrs. Alphas in the headlines: COO Sheryl Sandberg and former CFO Erin Callan.

Sheryl, 43, has been on an extended book tour to encourage young women to lean in to their ambitions and speak up so their voices are heard and embrace success, while Erin, 47, has offered a cautionary tale about what leaning in can take away in an op-ed, “Is There Life After Work?” (She set aside starting a family while on Wall Street and is now deep into fertility treatment.)

Each has been ruffling feathers in her own unique way and together remind us that life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

I’ve known plenty of men and women who have leaned in and not achieved all they set out to do. Inevitably, hard work and dedication only get you so far. Luck (good and bad) has a way of arbitrarily determining winners and losers.

Singular efforts — regardless of whether you’re doggedly climbing the corporate ladder or pursuing the dream of acting or throwing everything you’ve got and then some at starting a family — usually means you’re tunneling in to the exclusion of most all else.

Erin explains, “Inevitably, when I left my job, it devastated me. I couldn’t just rally and move on. I did not know how to value who I was versus what I did. What I did was who I was.”

You don’t have to live in a board room to become one dimensional. You could apply this same one-track thinking phenomenon to those pursuing motherhood or fertility treatment.

I’m all for setting goals and making my voice heard — leaning in as Sheryl advises. But I also believe it’s healthy to assess what’s working and what’s not, and to learn from failures as well as successes.

Ironically, in her recent essay Erin was echoing my own thoughts from a few years ago when she said: “Perhaps I needed what felt at the time like some of the worst experiences in my life to come to a place where I could be grateful for the life I had. I had to learn to begin to appreciate what was left.“

Put another way, and with the help of some old proverbs, I would add: it’s not healthy to put all one’s eggs in one basket; to lose sight of the forest for the trees, nor to pursue success at any price. Sometimes the cost is too high.

What say you readers?

For more responses to Sheryl and Erin:

  • Maureen Dowd offers her take on Sheryl’s quest to be “The Pompom Girl for Feminism.”
  • Alexandra Chang and Kara Swisher parse the critics, respectively, in “Why You Should Lean In to Sheryl Sandberg’s New Book” and “Old Media Doesn’t Get New Media.”
  • Beth Greenfield on work-life balance, “Former CFO Regrets Not Having Children, Reignites the Work-Balance Debate.”
  • There were more choice observations coming from across the pond. The Telegraph’s Allison Pearson wrote the piece: “Women’s Have-it-All-Fantasy Often Spells Heartbreak.”

You can also read a Q&A with me and longtime blog friend, Lori Lavender Luz, about the writing of Silent Sorority here. It comes as we approach the four-year anniversary of Silent Sorority’s debut. Lori has her own book coming out this month, The Open-Hearted Way to Open Adoption.

Category: Linking Around, Society / Tags: , , , , , ,

Let’s Make a Documentary

March 7, 2013 / / 47 comments
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“I don’t know how to deal with this…”

That’s a common response, albeit usually unspoken, for people in the throes of reconciling an infertility diagnosis.

Curiously, those are also the same eight words that pop into the head of someone who isn’t dealing directly with infertility when they learn someone close is swept up in the dreaded infertility maelstrom.

And this begs important questions:

 

How can we talk about infertility, how can we help someone process infertility if we lack a common language or socialized behavior to do so?

Some life experiences — birth, marriage, illness, death — are universally understood. That’s because we are socialized in how to respond to them. We have words and rituals. We share common behaviors, norms — etiquette — that allow us to navigate and move through them with either social celebration or social healing and empathy.

Infertility? Just whisper it and everyone runs for the doors. No one knows what to say, how to react, what is expected.

Until now anyway. We can change that.

How? By supporting the need for an articulate, well-formed, thoughtful documentary that examines infertility in our society. What can you, kind readers, do to help advance this project?

  1. First, show support. Please take a moment to provide a Facebook Like forVodar Films. (You’ll know why by the end of this blog post).
  2. Second, share a comment below about why you think the time is now to develop a full-length documentary that realistically and compassionately explores this taboo topic. This will help in the grant writing and funding development process.

IrinaNow, meet talented documentary producer, Irina Vodar.  I interviewed Irina earlier this week by phone. I ended the call agreeing to join her advisory board. Here’s a window into our conversation.

Why are documentaries so instrumental in changing attitudes?

There’s a great power in seeing reality.  Documentary is a way to look at the world around us, at the reality with penetrating glasses on. It’s a fascinating medium because it uses everyday occurrence as the building blocks and reflects how we perceive ourselves.  It offers a powerful way to understand and grow.

Your first documentary was about a beauty pageant in a Siberian prison shown at the Berlin Film Festival, what’s been the response to your latest project idea?

Yes, I have one documentary under my belt. It was very successful and people were very excited to hear what would be my next choice of story. When they asked me, “What are you doing?” I would say, do you want to see? I have [a link to] a trailer. And they would say, “Yes, yes. Let me see. Show me.”

The usual reaction to my trailer was complete silence.  At some point I learned to distinguish whether or not someone I knew already watched the trailer because there would be this different quality in the way they looked at me. Like they really would not discuss it in any way or acknowledge that they saw it. In some instances people actually denied that they had seen it.

Later, when I conducted the first round of fundraising efforts from traditional film funding sources the response I got was that it’s not an art, it is an energy-sapping subject and too personal for a big platform. I stand to change this attitude.

I’ve seen how infertility can evoke strange reactions, too. Even hostility, why do you think that is?

First people are very uncomfortable with the subject because they don’t know how to relate to it. That’s something I see across the board. People are also uncomfortable, in general, seeing somebody else suffering.

We know within our culture that a time comes when a human being is born and you celebrate and you have baby showers, and you know there is a time when a loved one departs and it’s the time for mourning and it’s the time for condolences. People know how to behave in those situations.

The basis for human culture – civilization – is creating a means for people to relate to each other. Infertility simply does not have that kind of culture or language associated with it so you cannot blame people for misdirecting their concerns.  They offer what they think are quick fixes, like “why don’t you adopt?” or dismiss infertility entirely and they think they’re being helpful but in fact they’re really hurting. That’s why it’s really important to establish a culture, a language that teaches people how to handle the situation.

When it’s infertility, there’s no, how do the lawyer’s say? No material facts. It’s all within the realm of expectation. You think, you hope to have the child. And the expectation is very real for you because you’re so involved in it. You’re the one counting days, administering all the shots. You’re the one going through all these incredible ups and downs. When it does not happen, the loss is also real.  It’s directly tied to your expectations and hopes, and not everybody understands what a huge impact it creates on you, the person experiencing it.

You’re facing strong headwinds. What drives you to continue with this project?
Infertility is still taboo. It’s important to develop respect, care, awareness and leadership around issues of infertility. It’s important to make it an accessible subject free of guilt and negative connotations towards the ones who go through the experience. It’s important to de-stigmatize it and make it a part of societal dialogue.
We need to create a language and culture of understanding about what is going on. First and foremost, on a deep personal level so we have a way to connect empathically with family and friends in the time of need. So they know a way to relate to us without causing more damage.

As I wrote long time ago, at the beginning of my struggle, “my world is crushing and what I read in the press bewilders me. I thought, well, maybe they just don’t know what it’s like.” The problem runs deep, because it’s an innate psychological need of people to feel good about themselves and their surroundings, and ignore what doesn’t feel good. But as culture teaches us, the greatest humanitarian lessons come from the times of greatest challenge.

So it’s a powerful positive quest to make this world a better place.

~~~~

Couldn’t agree more…now, dear readers, it’s your turn. Please share this post far and wide and let us know in the comments: What’s been your experience with infertility, and why do you think this documentary needs to be made? (and please, like Vodar Films). Stay tuned for more as this project continues to unfold.

~~~~
Irina Vodar, 43, was born in Moscow but has spent more than half her life in the U.S. (Chicago and now New York). She established Vodar Films and produced Miss GULAG (2007) to premiere at the Berlin Film Festival to critical acclaim, featured on Entertainment Tonight and NPR, broadcast across the world and selected by the Cambridge University Department of Russian Studies. Watch it on iTunes or purchase educational rights at Women Make Movies.

 

Category: Different Than I Expected, Documentary, Indie Script / Tags: , , , , , , ,

Keeping It Real

March 1, 2013 / / 9 comments
Jennifer Lawrence

Oh to have the charm and confidence that Jennifer Lawrence exhibited this past week as she tripped and then recovered on her way to accepting the Oscar for Best Actress.

I marveled at the grittiness she showed in Winter’s Bone. I admired her stoicism and determination as Katniss in The Hunger Games, and I became a bona fide fan watching her light up the screen in Silver Lining’s Playbook. Her best performance, hands down, though was the press conference after securing her Oscar. 

Jennifer kept it real and reminded me that as often as I err on the side of biting my tongue, every once in a while we need to say what’s really on our minds. So here goes:

Dr. Nancy Snyderman: I caught your recent NBC Nightly News segment … where did you get that medical degree again? A mail-in catalog? I’m no Chief Medical Editor, but even I know that when reporting on IVF it’s important to fact check and get your terms right. While you were busy gushing about the latest science in embryo watching (in a weirdly Peeping Tom sort of way) you voiced over, incorrectly, a reference to “implanting” embryos during an IVF procedure. After 30 years of IVF there’s no excuse for you (or your reporting staff) not to know this medical terminology. Let me set y’all straight, embryos are “transferred” — it’s up to Mother Nature whether they implant or not.

And while we’re offering constructive criticism about your reporting, next time try to get more balance in your piece. This new embryo technology is experimental and in limited use without much understanding about how it influences the outcome. What was the news value again (other than making the procedure more expensive)? As for expense, why didn’t you offer up a range for what an actual IVF cycle costs? It’s easy to get an average ($12,000 to $15,000 — or more depending on a variety of contributing factors and associated medications, rarely covered by health insurance).

And, while you were busy making sure to get the IVF twin babies in your money shot, why didn’t you take the time to mention the percentage of IVF treatments that fail, and how little is still understood about what leads to successful conception and pregnancy? You would do all viewers a service by not sugar coating what’s actually involved.  Next time, Dr. Nancy, keep it real.

That leads me to a New York based non-profit, the Seleni Institute, an organization that IS taking a more balance approach to the topic of fertility and the impact it can have on women’s emotional well being. Kudos to the health reporting team for, yes, keeping it real. I was honored to be among the women who contributed to the launch of the foundation’s new website. You can read my piece, Why I left the fertility treatment roller coaster and where I found my place in a motherhood-mad world here.

Also in the keeping it real file this week, a shout out to Karen Malone Wright and Laura LaVoie for their work on a terrific website call TheNotMom.com. In a recent blogger profile Q&A with Laura, I realized just how far we’ve come in creating a community for women who are not mothers to congregate, communicate and celebrate all of our contributions.  I’ll be returning the favor with Karen and Laura, and feature them in an upcoming blog post as well as interview Irina Vodar, a documentary producer who is putting together a proposal for a film on infertility. Lots to share on that in the coming weeks. March will also bring me together again with the fabulous Lisa Manterfield and later this spring, I’ll get to see Klara on the Dalmation coast.

What are you doing to keep it real?

Category: Linking Around, Strength Personified / Tags: , , , , ,

What Would Kate Middleton’s Life Be Like If She Couldn’t Conceive An Heir?

February 21, 2013 / / 15 comments
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In the late 1990s Crown Princess Masako of Japan faced enormous pressure to produce an heir, such pressure that some believe it changed her life for the worse and contributed to mental illness.

If you had told me 15 years ago that stories on the value of the royal womb would be playing out in the news in 2013, I’m not sure I would have believed it.

I remember reading about Princess Masako (we’re the same age) long before my battle with infertility did a number on my psyche. I recall thinking how sad it was that an accomplished woman was so demeaned and devalued because she had trouble conceiving, and in the end, couldn’t produce a son.

Once it became apparent that I couldn’t conceive I took solace in knowing that my life as a family of two could bring its own happiness. I shudder even today to imagine if I had had to face the kind of public scrutiny and judgment that Princess Masako did.

And what of the newest royal to capture headlines? The Duchess of Cambridge, Kate Middleton, is at the center of a dust up — this one concerning some unkind comments taken out of context from a recent speech. Booker-Prize-winning author Hilary Mantel described how Kate has gone from a mannequin entirely defined by what she wore to:

These days she is a mother-to-be, and draped in another set of threadbare attributions. Once she gets over being sick, the press will find that she is radiant. They will find that this young woman’s life until now was nothing, her only point and purpose being to give birth.”

While Mantel raised ire for her perceived criticism of Kate, elements of her speech raised some interesting questions: How would the public and the press have reacted to Kate (once they lost interest in her wardrobe choices) if she and Will were simply unable to have children?

Would the media, the general public that today lavishes attention on them accept the couple as a family of two? Would they embrace and celebrate them as eagerly? Or would they hound Kate as mercilessly as they did Princess Masako, make her believe her value lay solely in her ability to conceive and produce an heir?

Mantel sized up the situation more bluntly:

We have arrived at the crux of the matter: a royal lady is a royal vagina.

Yes, as much as we might want to think society has evolved beyond medieval days, or even from last century, to quote Yoggie Berra, “it’s déjà vu all over again.”

One day perhaps we can be comfortable with this observation from Gloria Steinem: “Everybody with a womb doesn’t have to have a child any more than everybody with vocal cords has to be an opera singer.”

Category: Different Than I Expected, Society / Tags: , ,

Your Sanity Matters More Than You Think

February 8, 2013 / / 14 comments

episode20This post is dedicated to the newbies arriving after listening to the Bitter Infertiles podcast Episode 20.
(If you’re new, I hope you’ll see it’s quite pleasant here; that contrary to conventional wisdom, flowers grow. Laughter is encouraged. All in all we strive to make it a happy blog. A place where women, mostly those who are not mothers through chance or circumstance, gather and kibbitz about the world as we as see it, how we can make it better. Sometimes we discuss movies, books, dish, ya know.)

If you, dear regular readers, haven’t yet tuned in to the podcast (and please do), let me set the scene. While millions prepared last weekend for the Super Bowl, four women fired up Skype to have a conversation normally reserved for the closest of friends. Episode 20 started at midnight in Israel (Mo), 5:00 pm outside of Toronto, Canada (Loribeth), 2:00 pm somewhere in view of Mt. Ranier in Washington (Cristy), and 2:00 pm for me, located a 45-minute drive south of San Francisco.

Far from shy, we near strangers plunged deep, starting with talk of “lady parts.” Our discussion broadened from the bio to the psycho to the social. (Hat tip to Tracey Cleantis aka LaBelette Rouge who first described infertility as a bio-psycho-social syndrome in a recent panel about letting go of biological children. Tracey: we put your syndrome under a microscope. We taught it a lesson! We testified…)

Trying to recap the full conversation, I fear, will flatten the spontaneous interplay.

msinfertilityWhat I will say is that I was startled by the willingness, the openness of the hosts to go where most women in their early 30s, keenly familiar with infertility losses, fear to tread. Warm, intelligent and inquisitive Mo and Cristy wanted to know it all and then some. They broke new ground. How?

I don’t know that there has ever been this level of honest, taboo-busting public discourse with women in such different places in the infertility world. It was initiated by women still pursuing motherhood, unafraid of infertility’s stigma and eager to uncover the truth. Along the way the hosts questioned the wisdom of their peers who, in pursuit of children, abuse their bodies and their sanity, who throw away what they do have for something they might never have.

Mo and Cristy raised concerns about the “healthiness” of those parenting in today’s society, those who glorify pregnancy but overlook the responsibilities of parenting, who view children as accessories. They acknowledged that, perhaps, women like me and Loribeth who never achieved motherhood got it right. Despite all our best efforts and repeated attempts to conceive over an extended period, we came away winners with our sanity, our self-respect and our willingness to embrace life.

I went into this Skype call nervously, much as Tracey described in a recent blog post, feeling like “the proverbial skunk invited to the garden party, or the divorce attorney invited to the wedding expo.”

But skunk nothing. I came out of it, blushing, feeling like an adored big sister.

Courageous? Selfless? Founts of sanity?

Come again? These are not descriptions my people are accustomed to hearing.

Cristy shares more of her thoughts, post-recording, in her blog and offered thanks to those in our little corner of the blogosphere. Stand tall, my friends, as our stories have:

taught me so much about life and helped me see that though I can’t control what happens to me, I can control how I chose to confront each disappointment and moment of pain. You’ve taught me that from the ashes we can rise like Phoenixes and pursue a life that is full, filled with purpose, happiness and joy. Saying ‘thank you’ is not enough

That leaves me with another lesson in my blogaversary week:

Lesson #3: Blogging makes the world a smaller place; offering us platforms to reach out and touch others in ways we never imagined.

Cheers to all who embrace defeat and course corrections in life as an opportunity for growth.

Category: Indie Script, Society, Tapestry of Voices, What I Wish I'd Know Then / Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Not All Mothers Are Sanctimommies, Hooray!

February 5, 2013 / / 7 comments
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As part of my blogoversary week of lessons learned…

#2 The Blogosphere Can Foster Strange Bedfellows

One of the toughest aspects of being part of a group routinely held up for scrutiny (e.g. women without children) is facing detractors who feel perfectly at ease casting aspersions or passing value judgements on our lives. I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly relish being put on the defensive.

That’s why it was with some relief — and a smidge of amusement — that I found myself witness to, rather than in the midst of, fur flying across the Internet. In this case the topic concerned a letter to a childless woman and, curiously, some of the most spirited protests came not from non-moms, but moms.

It began when writer and mother Janine Kovacs — who has since apologized — wrote “Maybe You Are Ready for Kids, You’re Just Not Paying Attention,” as part of a call for submissions to address the question, How Do You Know You’re Ready for Kids?” (ignoring I might add, the fact that not all can conceive, nor is adoption a sure thing for all who attempt it).

In her attempt to be “hip and edgy,” Ms. Kovacs copped to “trashing” what we later learned was a fictional friend, Doris. In reality Doris was a convenient literary device, a  punching bag composite representing women unsure about motherhood. The piece went viral and prompted more than a few angry comments and responses from writers, many of them mothers, taking Ms. Kovacs to task for:

  • making moms appear “condescending and self-righteous,” per Linda Sharps
  • and pointing out that “maybe the pressure she [Doris] feels to have children comes from a culture that values mothers, but not middle-aged career women.” (Thank you, Kerry Cohen, for highlighting this reality)
  • implying that “raising children is the way to enlightenment, or that the alternate road leads to having nothing in life to care about…” (Kudos to Mary Elizabeth Williams whose Salon piece gave me the term sanctimommy for this headline).

What really lifted my heart is that after years of feeling maligned (can I get an “I hear you” from the non-moms?) in a society that dotes on parents, there were mothers like Sarah MacLaughlin eager to point out that:

…parenting is not the only endorphin-oxytocin-dopamine natural high out there. And it’s certainly not the only way for a woman to reach her highest potential—do you hold the same rite of passage to fatherhood as wholly necessary for a man? People everywhere soar high and engage in meaningful, excellent, and fulfilling lives without children.

Mary Elizabeth Williams added these friendly words of advice in her Salon piece, “The only person who can ever fulfill you is you, Doris. And you have infinite worth and value right now, just as you are. Don’t let anybody ever try to tell you otherwise.”

She also reminds us that:

 

zealotry springs not out of faith but doubt. If you’re cool in your own life choices, you don’t need to foist them on anybody else.

Words to heed. Amen, sister.

Yes, it seems women over the centuries have proven highly skilled at finding ways to provoke each other — whether SAHM vs. work-outside-the-home mothers, childfree vs. mothers of all kinds, infertiles vs. fertiles (guilty as charged!) and the list goes on.

It’s only natural that we get highly territorial when we’re feeling threatened or maligned, and there are times when legitimate beefs arise deserving spirited discussion and debate. That’s one of the beauties of the blogosphere.

You’ll hear more about various life paths and room for greater understanding in the Bitter Infertiles podcast interview conducted yesterday. More on that when it’s available for download. Meanwhile, thoughts welcome…

Category: Different Than I Expected, Linking Around, Society / Tags: , , , , , ,

What I Wish I’d Known Then: Virtual Casseroles Feed the Soul

February 2, 2013 / / 20 comments
Six

February 3, 2007 marks a turning point. It’s the day I decided to reach outside my head, to wear my heart on my sleeve, and to seek some answers. Minutes after publishing my very first Coming2Terms blog post on that stormy night six years ago my stomach turned queasy.

After years of suffering silently in the wake of infertility I decided it was time to venture out, to try to find women I could relate to and who, in turn, could relate to me. In surveying the nascent IF blogosphere in 2007, I quickly learned that turning away from the path to motherhood left me in a distinct minority:

There are lots of discussions out there involving those in the midst of infertility treatments, but I think there is much to be aired and shared about what happens when it’s clear that no amount of money, medicine or prayer is going to produce the impossible.

This is about coming to terms with what comes next…

Amid all the cyclesistas swapping tips about how to reduce bruising when jabbing a needle full of hormones through thick skin (been there, done that), grieving alpha pregnancies that never made it to beta (awful beyond imagination), I searched for those who were unloading baggage on the way to a life that didn’t involve parenthood.

There was no Loribeth, no MLO, no Emily, no Mali, no Klara, no Jody Day, nor LaBelette Rouge or Lisa Manterfield. (They had yet to enter the blogosphere.) It would be many months more before I had a chance to meet, in person, Christina, Dr. Wendy or Dr. Marni — all of the above well-versed in course corrections, all now treasured friends. There was just me and it was, I will admit, pretty darned lonely.

blogaversary+4That was then. This is now.

The years since penning my first blog post have delivered not only new friendships, but hard-won wisdom and some valuable lessons. It seemed only fitting that I share a few of them this week. So on the eve of my blogaversary, here’s lesson #1.

 

Virtual casseroles feed the soul

Finding my place in the blogosphere didn’t come easy at first. In fact, I still recall the first time I publicly declared, at a BlogHer meetup, just what exactly I blogged about. That awkward encounter is described here.

While I was hungry for understanding and camaraderie, my appetite and expectations were in for some fine tuning. Not all the virtual casseroles proved to my liking — at first.

Did I get snarky when I encountered infertility bloggers who went on to successful pregnancies serve up blog posts or comments:

  • declaring, with certainty, how they would have found happiness if the unthinkable (no child) had happened to them?
  • encouraging, as a way to move forward, a celebration or commemoration of the decision to stop treatment?

The simple answer: yes. The well-meaning ideas seemed, like salt in my raw wounds, disingenuous. While their intentions were good I had to allow time to develop my palate. Today, as I have sampled more of what life has to offer, I hold a different view. Support of any kind delivered with goodness, as well as attempts to understand this less-discussed path out of infertility does smooth the road for those coming behind us.

Sure, it’s easy to dismiss those who haven’t developed the same blisters or encountered the same prejudice we have on our road to reinvention, but I have a new appreciation, six years on, for those who want to include us, prickly as we might appear at first blush, in the wider circle of bloggers serving up comfort food and wanting to make the world a more compassionate place.

Also on tap this week:

  • Tomorrow (my actual blogaversary — how appropriate is this?), I will join Loribeth and the fab gals behind the Bitter Infertiles podcasts to discuss what host Cristy aptly described as “a very misunderstood path of resolution from infertility and loss.”
  • I will riff further on the Bio-Psycho-Social syndrome that Tracey Cleantis (aka LaBelette Rouge) referenced during her talk on a panel called Letting Go of Having Genetic Offspring — a panel that also included valuable insights from Lisa M.

Meanwhile, as always, I welcome your questions, comments and ideas.

Category: Different Than I Expected, What I Wish I'd Know Then / Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
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