|abyss of the disheartened : IV by Heather Landis|
Every so often Patrick and I have little detox venting sessions on our back balcony. They usually go something like this:
-List of reasons why this is all unfair (we are young; both come from historically big families; we are good people?)
-List of reasons why we need things to happen sooner rather than later (ridiculous US FMLA/leave regulations that leave me potentially stranded in this job for "fear" of getting pregnant and needing the benefits and not wanting to get a new job that wouldn't give me those until being with the new place for a year; aging parents; etc)
-List of stupid things people say, list of stupid things we say, list of stupid things we feel (with all of our friends having babies, are we missing the "baby train" within our little community? No. I guess not. But it feels that way.); frustrations of this turning into the elephant in the room
What do you say when a friend (doesn't read this blog, at least I don't think so -- and if she does, I love her very much and she knows that) says in response to your disheartened infertility frustrations that she would happily carry a kid for you if you couldn't do it? Because it is a lovely sweet thing to say. But how do you reply carefully that the idea of that being my option is devastating to me. Not personally, but situationally. It's not just wanting a kid -- it's wanting having a baby myself. Just me and my husband. Not me, my husband, and my friend. And I know lots of people, particularly in the GLBT community, have to do things that way. But I feel like at least that's understood when you have a relationship that's same-sex -- from the getgo I guess you sort of know that if kids are going to happen it's going to be atypical (???). With me, that's a big psychological U-turn to approach -- I'm not there yet, but I don't want to get there.
Nothing personal. But I don't want this to be a community event.
And how do you explain that we cannot "just adopt" ($$$$$) (also, sociological/emotional ramifications of all parties involved = big, big undertaking) -- and that I don't know if I could ever be emotionally tough enough for fostering (I grew up knowing people who went that route and it looked like a never-ending emotional and legal battle every.single.day). Nobody wants to say that because I guess it could be construed as saying "I don't know if I'd be a good parent" but that's not it -- I don't know if I'd be a good foster parent, just thinking about my own self -- could I love somebody and risk losing them every day? Could I foster/adopt knowing there's potentially a parent out there who wants them? And of course, we come back to the problem of being young. From reading, I don't know if we'd even be eligible to adopt right now. If we'd be passed over.
Invasive infertility treatments? I don't think my insurance would cover it. And we don't even have the recommended three months of living expenses in savings -- we certainly can't blow that all on a chancey treatment.
I think part of the trouble is finding people my age who are also going through this IRL. My groups of friends can be put into these boxes:
-Single/casual relationship peeps/people not anywhere near kidlet-having
-Married people having babies*
-People who have kids
While this is all fine and dandy, it's hard to find people in the same situation. I can certainly talk about it with other people, but it's not...the same, I guess, is what I'm trying to say?
Part of the problem in finding others is that it's not something people talk about. There are tons of people who don't know we're going through this -- it creates this problem of what we perceive to be stupid questions (you guys having kids soon?? Better get on that! Gotta try more than once!), even when the people asking don't know because we haven't shared. And because we're young (25/28) I think we're a smaller subset in our peer group than we would be if we were 35/38.
In short, it's kind of lonely. (Online peeps going through this stuff, ILU. Thank goodness for the internet.)
On the bright side, if I do get pregnant one of these months, the longer it takes the more likely it'll be to have a kid not in winter. I like throwing outdoor parties so this is a Serious Timing Concern. ;)
* I am super stoked for this. I think it's really hard to convey that a) I am sincerely happy for people and excited to tickle baby toes because HELLO BABY FEETS and b) I'm going through my own issues that make me self-absorbed about my own frustrations baby-wise and c) B does not negate A or make my happiness less than sincere.