going nowhere
I try not to look at the larger picture, because, actually, it isn't really all that pretty. About a year ago, I started reading a fairly long list of blogs. Now, almost every blogger on that list who wanted to be pregnant or to have a baby, is, in fact, pregnant or has had a baby.
You're welcome to argue about it in the comments, but my own view is that I have only a limited right to complain about this, given that I already, um, have a child. Still, the internet, which used to be a source of community and shared experiences, is beginning to reinforce my feelings of isolation, making me feel more alone than I was when I started.
57 comments:
I can understand what your saying. I was thinking that myself about all this virtual pregnancy going on. But on the flip side, it's pretty darn impressive how nature appears driven and that so many have gotten lucky. I find I have big picture days and small picture days. Maybe this is a small picture day? As a by-line, spring is in the air.
As (possibly) one of those bloggers, I want to tell you that I've been there, I may know what you are feeling and it sucks. I was blogging for almost a 1.5 years before i got pregnant and i know it can feel isolating. I guess all i can say is that you aren't crazy... and say that you should feel free to complain as needed.
I totally get this. If you'd like to consider a subset, please put me in it. Bitch all you want. And hey, not to isolate *me*, but at least you're *talking* about things. I'm off in no way forward land. Blogging can at once be so supportive and encouraging, and also reinforce everything about your (in the general, everyone's) situation that is so particularly, awfully, unique.
I know exactly what you mean. Two and half years ago so many women were struggling. They still are, except it's with late night feedings, sleep issues and toddler tantrums. I'm still stuck in the struggling realm period. There aren't any joyous struggles - no debates between me and my husband about who is going to get up this time, or who is going to go to the dr's.
Dammit it hurts. I know exactly how you feel.
As you know, I disagree strongly about the extent of your right to complain, and for the same reason that I dislike it when people infer that the subsequent baby makes everything ok-- my children, your children, any children, they are not interchangeable.
Having Monkey didn't make it less horrible to loose A, as I think having your son didn't make it any easier (at least at the time) to loose the twins. In my case it made the grief different, for sure-- I didn't have to worry about never having a living child in my house, for example, but I don't think it made it easier per se-- different, but not easier. By the same token, I don't think the next baby, should I have one, would make up for loosing A either. I am sure that baby would bring joy and love, but it won't be to replace A.
As for now, your feelings are very very understandable. I was starting to feel left behind as well at the end of last year. Mostly not because of the blogs, I think, in my case, but more because of where I saw myself in a year when A first died. That was why I kept pushing to have a cycle before the anniversary.
I so so hope that your next cycle brings success. I know the pregnancy would be terrifying, as it is for all of us after. What I hope for, though, is that the shared experience and support come again, and for good, happy reasons.
And of course, I think you have the right to complain as much as you want and as often as you want. To the extent that it is possible for those of us who seem to have sailed ahead to support you even now, I hope that I can do that, at least.
I'm afraid of staying here too long. Afraid that I will not get the support I need after some time has gone by. Afraid that I will feel jealous or envious. Afraid that I won't belong anymore.
And I see the fact that you have a child as having no bearing on your right to complain. Hell, I have two and I couldn't possibly bitch louder or longer. I always will. It's hard not to.
Gorgeous photo, Niobe. Gorgeous.
There are still some of us who have who have gone nowhere in this journey. I hear what you are saying, it can be tough when everyone else has moved towards something and you are still stuck.
You know, I was JUST thinking about you this weekend, wondering if already having a son reduces the amount of pain you (or anyone) feels. But you've also lost two children, and anyways anyone can complain as much as you like. There is no such thing as entitlement to pain, and losing a child, even if it's in the form of infertility or miscarriages, even if you already have one or two or twenty, is painful.
As an aside that has also been in my mind this weekend, I saw someone comment on a miscarriage that it was like wrapping up a dream and putting it aside. But I disagree totally. I think miscarriage is losing a child. Not something you can tidely wrap up and put away in a dark cupboard.
Oh, and I'm sorry you're feeling isolated. That sucks.
Here's the heuristic I used to determine that, in my case, having a kid makes it easier to bear my loss.
Would I, if I had the choice, trade places with someone who had one loss and no kids? Absolutely not. On the other hand, would I trade places with someone who had three losses and two kids? In a heartbeat.
As they say, your mileage may vary and your feelings may be totally different than mine.
I'm 2.5 years into trying. I'm about 18 months into reading blogs. I have absolutely no idea when I will be able to move forward with anything, but it's looking like I probably have to wait 6 years. In 6 years I'll have been married for 9 years and trying for as long. I feel incredibly isolated because at least everyone else is moving forwards, while I live in a stupid cycle of hope and despair, month after month, year after year...
I guess I am now one of those bloggers you refer to. I can only say that, at least on some level, I can understand your feelings totally.
Because we both waited, and then had a miscarriage, most of the other loss mom's I met, either in real life or online, had subsequent children much faster than I. I certaintly had feelings like that. I also had the feeling that everyone else had their baby, and it might never happen for me. I felt very alone at times.
You have an unlimited right to your feelings, niobe.
Oh Niobe, I know exactly what you mean and, in fact, wrote about it last summer in my blog after a spate of BFPs.
The thing about dealing with IF is that the acute pain doesn't last forever - there are a myriad of ways one can work it out. Loss, however, is a different story. But you are a smart, strong woman and I know you will figure out a way to resolve the IF issue and manage the profound loss with both grace and determination.
As someone that has had 4 miscarriages and no children, I would give anything to have one . . . just one child. To be blessed just once I think would be enough for me.
No kids here, many have "moved on" whatever that means. I too, hate being still here. I continue to look for more blogs when the old ones get too far "ahead." but also forcing myself to keep reading, so I know there is no finish line and there are no easy endings. Adjusting my reading list is easier than adjusting my heart, but both can change. Eventually.
I am sorry you are feeling isolated. You have the right to complain as much as you want. This whole thing just sucks. Beyond words.
I am sorry your isolation, but also completely understand it. Please add me to your subset of blogs in the still trying with no success category, to help you feel less isolated. I've had 4 friends give birth in the past 2 weeks. I know what you are feeling.
Feel free to complain all you want...I mean that.
Gretchen
A-fucking-men. I feel like the entire blogosphere has passed me by. I've cut most of the blogs with new pregnancies from my blogroll for my own sanity.
I definitely understand where you are coming from on this. The situations might not be similar - but the feelings are the same.
I get you.
And yet, you are not alone, as I hope the comments you receive will show. While not everyone is in the same place, we all come to share in your experience (as much as one can through a blog -- so thank you for sharing it with us) and to help lift you up out of that isolation. Or at least that's how I like to see it.
As for your right to complain... a loss is a loss. It hurts. True, you may not wish to trade places with another who has no child. But in my mind that shouldn't diminish (in the "lessen the importance" sense) the pain of the loss you have experienced. Perhaps what you are feeling is different because you do have a child, but it is no less valid.
I'm so sorry. Time for some new blogs?
And the issue of your already having a child, well, I WOULD argue strongly that that doesn't dis-entitle you to any of your hurt or longing.
I am right there with you in the left behind group.
It does get hard not to feel left out when visiting all those preggo and parenting blogs out there. Sometimes they do seem like a reminder of what SHOULD happen and just hasn't.
I was blogging two years during my pursuit of child number two, and yes, I saw not only birth #1 for some, but birth #2 as well.
No one has an allotment on the pain or anger that comes from dealing with infertility, whether it's "secondary" or not. It's not the arriving that matters, it is the journey...or however that saying goes.
Ditto Julia, she summed up my position, cause I know that having previous children doesn't change the loss and desperate need to try again.
But hon---you are making plans to move forward, and I sincerely believe those plans will work, so try to focus on that. You have hope, however tentative it may feel. Hold on to it. As for loneliness, there are a number of bloggers on Mel's list or in the Pregnancy loss Directory who are where you are, not pregnant, not with a new baby and they just might want your support.
And you might want to read some of them so that you will feel less isolated.
I know you have visited my blog from time to time, so I am not sure if I am one of those people you are refering to.
I have had a child since my loss, but it doesn't mean my loss hurts any less. It almost hurts worse since people think I should be over it by now.
Even though I don't fit into the same category as you, I still identify with you. I also completely agree with Julia and Aurelia.
I am sad to hear that something that once gave you solace is now hurtful.
I might fit your description too. Although being pregnant is a ways from having a baby . . .I am there. Yet it took 3 years from our loss until we had what looks like a viable pregnancy so I know that feeling of other people moving on and me just having more failures. It really hurts. It still hurts because not only did those other people not suffer as long, but they got their genetic child.
I don't know why things go the way they go, but I don't think you are alone.
You've got unlimited rights. You're not somehow knocked down the grief continuum because you already have a living child. I think you know that cerebrally, but maybe you just don't feel it in your heart. I know what that's like.
If we carry on from your point of thought, then you've got at least double the right to dwell and despair and feel isolated than I do - I have one older child and one twin living, one twin not.
But there's no almighty scorecard. We're all trapped in these bodies, behind these filters over our eyeballs that we stare through all day. The only experience we know is our own, and even those people who have had completely oblivious experiences becoming mothers pity themselves for all sorts of things we might find trite or superficial.
Everything's relative. Losing a child - or more than one child - is just plain effing horrific. It doesn't matter what cards you hold going into that experience - you are gutted.
I know it sucks to feel like the rest of the world has it easier, or is moving on. It's okay to feel angry about that, or frustrated, or alone. But whatever you do, don't deny yourself the right to voice those feelings. Please don't.
A long time ago, a blogger coined a phrase that sort of encapsulates your feeling of isolation. She described herself as being "infertile by infertile standards." It applies for secondary infertility as well as any other.
Come visit me as much as you like - no kids, dead babies and very little hope..... I know what you mean about the isolation though, I'm even avoiding updating my blogroll because there are just so many pregnancies, subsequent pregnancies and babies. I really do feel like the loser on the sidelines.
i agree with Julia.
if you had 12 children, two dead babies wouldn't hurt any less. plus, you can't change what bothers you or what feelings you have.
until very recently, i started feeling like a loser to. like i had failed a grade.
not that you need it, but i want you to know, that though i'd be sad, and i will continue to read your blog, i give you permission to quit reading mine. k? i mean that.
i hope you join the 'winning' side soon. very soon.
I understand this. I did not think I would ever be in a different place.
But I feel honored to have met certain women in the blogging experience, and you are one of them. Please do not feel alone, for we are with you in spirit.
i'm sorry, babe. i can see how it would hurt.
I think the scenery tends to stay the same. At any given time there is loss for some and joy for others and anticipation for many.
I think what changes is the observer. Things strike us differently depending on where we are.
And, Niobe, though you may feel alone, you are not.
I totally get this post.
But, it doesn't matter how many you have, if it's not as many as you planned/wanted, you definitely have bitching rights
Um, secondary infertility is as real and difficult as primary. And it's what you want, another child, that is. So of course it hurts. And you're allowed to be hurt.
I was in your shoes. The group of women that I hung out with during the infertility dx and tx all, to a one, got pregnant before I did. One even ended up with Irish twins - 13 months apart. And it hurt.
I started blogging before I got on this weird wagon that I'm on. And I can't say I'm even on the same wagon as you - I haven't had any definite losses. But I can't get pregnant to save my life.
But I've thought about moving on anyway. I don't want to be the last one here wondering where in the world everyone else is.
I'm sorry you're feeling so isolated. There is really nothing suckier than feeling alone in the midst of the crap.
About a year ago, I felt the exact same way. When I wrote about it, I found that I wasn't alone, that there were others out there still "going nowhere" and the ones who had "gone somewhere" were still there to support me because they understood the going nowhere feeling.
I hope you find the same in the responses here.
And for whatever it's worth, you're not alone. I have yet to get pregnant again since I found out I was infertile.
There are some blogs that I read casually. Check in now and then, look at a few archives, leave a supportive comment...that sort of thing. When that blogger gets pregnant, I tend to tune out. Not out of any ill will for the writer. I just tune out.
But there are some blogs to which I'm very attached because I've connected more with the writers and feel invested in them. If that makes sense. Those are the ones that don't make me feel as alienated when they've gotten pregnant. I keep reading them.
It also helps if the content is "meatier." I can't stick with a blogger whose pregnancy posts are limited to statistics - all countdowns, heartbeat rates, and measurements (that sounds rather bitter, doesn't it?). It's just too hard for me.
You're an amazing artist, by the way. I love your photographs.
This must be very difficult for you.
Hopefully, if all goes well with your carrier, by the end of the year, you too will be posting about a new little one's arrival or pending arrival.
**Waving from my side of the platform as the pregnancy/baby train pulls out and disappears around the bend**
you are not alone, though sometimes it may seem that way. I'm sorry you're feeling so isoalated. I have also felt that way.
I'm in the still trying while everyone else gets pregnant category. I had a small online group of women who suffered late term losses around the same time as me 2 yrs ago. we've kept in touch and supported each other. we're all in different situations -- 2 have kids, 2 of us don't. we've each had complications -- 1 got bad PGD results, 1 had multiple m/cs, 1 lost 2 babies late. I never got pg again. and now with 2 of them pregnant, I'm the only one who may be facing a childless future. what was once a unifying supportive community now just makes me feel worse...
ah well, just wanted to say you are not alone. this journey just makes us feel that way...
~luna
See, I am such a bitter bitch and have a black heart that I keep thinking that it is only a matter of time before something bad happens to some of these pregnancies.
I don't trust nature. It hasn't worked in the past for me -- why should it work well for anybody else?
The last couple of years have taught me that our own pain is real to us and we have the right to feel it. Comparisons with other peoples pain and whether we are deserving is at best unhelpful.
Feeling isolated is hard. I think sometimes looking for those you thought you had similarities with makes it even worse, because you start to realize all the differences. There's nobody quite like you in the world.
As for the right to complain, of course you can -- you got a raw deal, it is unfair that you are without the twins now. If it helps, complain away. I'm not even trying, so I feel I'm not entitled to complain. Yet, it hurts.
Amen. This is not the perfect analogy by a long stretch but I am worse off than the "always a bridesmaid never a bride" because the wedding invitations (aka pregnancy announcements) keep arriving and yet unlike the hapless, hoping bridesmaid, I know for a fact that I'll never, ever be walking down the aisle myself. As the permanent infertile, I don't even get to keep the ugly dresses. Not sure what I get to keep actually. There doesn't seem to be a consolation prize in this weird quandary I find myself in. Like you I came to the blogosphere a year ago for understanding among those who are in my shoes, but it seems that the vast majority who were once in the "WTF do I do now?" category are off getting preggers on me. Sigh.
not knocked up AND depressed about it. Trust me...you are not alone.
2+ years of blogging and virtually all of the women I started with are knocked up with baby #2.
xo
I am not you and your experiences and feeling are unique, but i think I get it. It has to hurt.
take care.
I feel pretty much the same way. But I have no kids. All of my losses were early, though. I think those are easier to get over, at least it would be for me. I'm losing an idea rather than a person. But my accumulated losses and the fact that I am still not expecting nor do I have any children does make me feel very isolated in this community.
I don't have a baby! Hey, hey, look at me, my blog is a baby-free zone, of sorts, and likely to stay that way for a while. I know I don't update that much but I'm working on it.
It makes no difference that you have a child. You still lost your babies that you wanted. I'm sorry you are feeling isolated. It is horrible when it feels like the whole world has moved on except you.
i know a little of the feeling you speak of, though in person...three new babies all on their way in my immediate family now, all utter accidents, all announced around the time of or since my own pregnancy and loss in the fall. it makes me feel alone and afraid it will never happen again for me, like there's a zero sum economy of babies out there and mine is being swallowed up by theirs. crazy. but hard.
and i have a living child. still hard. when i lost my first son, i was sure you were right, that having a living child at home would make it somehow easier. now i realize it doesn't, really...it erases the one specific, brutal, awful fear of never getting to be a mother at all...but it doesn't actually hurt any less. it's not a quantifiable thing.
so go gentle on yourself.
I'm sorry. That must be really hard.
Just because you have one wee one doesn't mean you're not allowed to want more. Most of us have visions of what we want our lives/families to be like; we're allowed to mourn the loss of our vision if things don't work out the way we want them to.
Hey, not me. When you started reading me (or at least commenting), I wanted to get pregnant, but then I realized the idea of reopening that can of worms just FLIPPED ME OUT.
So I'm not. Pregnant, that is.
Not saying it won't happen this year, but it's not physically possible before June. Not even accidentally. And I'm not gonna be blogging about the process, either, or making any announcements of success before what is traditional.
So, my blog: free of procreative rejoicing for at least another seven, eight months, and probably a lot longer.
How's that for a promise?
I think this is one of the worst parts of life after loss...feeling the need to complain because of the injustice we feel and yet be slapped with the guilt that how dare we complain because we should be thankful for what we do have.
You are human and entitled to all of your feelings.
Its been awhile since I blogged or even read other blogs but prior to my break, its exactly how I felt. I was feeling more and more alone and more and more shameful because whatever I did seemed to end in failure and everyone else around me (in real life and in blog land) seem to find success. Just wanted to let you know you're not alone.
Oh man I so feel this. One list is growing and the other is getting smaller. And here we stand in the smaller group.
You are never alone! NEVER!
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