22 March 2009

Just a little more frustration

Now I want to preface this post with the fact that I love children. Babies especially. I wouldn't have tried for almost four years to have one of my own if I didn't love babies. Do you believe me?

I really hope that you do after you read this.

Yesterday was my hubby's cousin's son's 5th birthday (did you follow that?). And of course I knew that the house would be filled with babies and fertile couples. Last year I even missed the party because I just couldn't handle the pregnant women and I also had the convenient excuse of an assignment that I had to finish for the class I was taking. Honestly, I tried to search my body for an ailment when I woke up, but I just couldn't come up with an excuse. And besides, the birthday boy was asking for his Aunt JellyBelly, so I couldn't with good conscience avoid the party.

My heart dropped as soon as we walked into the house. The birthday boy's little brother as well as a friend's baby were on the floor in the living room. The birthday boy's cousin followed in soon after.

And I never felt more barren in my life.

All of the moms are around the same age as I am and we usually have so much to talk about, but I honestly couldn't for the life of me find something not baby related as conversation topics. I was really happy to find a bowl of lime flavoured nacho chips that was far away from the baby action! I'm also grateful for the NCAA tournament being on and having the excuse of being a HUGE fan to be absent from all of the baby-love.

When we tried to make an early exit my hubby's aunt laid a guilt trip on us. "Why do you have to go? You know the birthday boy only turns 5 once!"

Honestly lady, if you knew how empty my soul feels right now you'd let me go and watch my favourite basketball team. I didn't know if I wanted to kick her or cry.

So I had to put on a happy face and watch the birthday boy open his gifts, blow out his candles (but we couldn't sing "Happy Birthday" because it would be too loud. I suspect the kid is mildly austistic, but that's another post for another time). Oh yeah, I couldn't have any of the cake because it was made with all of the things I couldn't eat! Yay! Score another one for the barren, allergy afflicted JellyBelly!

Now I don't expect everyone to be sensitive to the fact that we're infertile. I also don't expect pity. For goodness sake, that's the reason we've been so quiet about our IF struggles. But this family knows what we've been through, how many years of disappointment and anguish that we've had to endure while EVERYONE we know have babies, even the previously infertile couples!

Three babies under the age of one is a lot to take for an infertile. They're lucky that they got me out of the house in one piece!

I really don't know how much longer I can "suck it up" around my fertile family members and friends. I really don't.


  1. I hear you loud and clear. Those parties are killer.

  2. I feel your pain. They are unable to see that their joy and our grief don't mix. They can see beyond the tip of their joy the way we can't see beyond the tip of our grief.

    No hard feelings, but count me out. If the stories of the infertile women in the bible don't give you a glimpse as to what I might be feeling. Then stay away or deal with my grief.

    Gosh that sounds selfish, but I just can't do it anymore.

    I feel your pain and the anguish it must have caused you.

    Are you sensitive to sugar? I was VERY sensitive to sugar now I eat it like champ! Ugg!!

  3. We should not have to make excuses, it should simply be put that my soul would crush, that sometimes we are just not that strong, that's it (and today I have to go to a neighbour's house who is pregnant and has a 2 year old). I don't know how I'm going to do it, and I tried already to excuse myself as I really do have an assignment, and I'm getting heart palpitations thinking about it...I went to a party like that before, but, I knew that one of the women was dealing with secondary infertility and my heart went out to her, because she couldn't escape it, like we can.

    Let me guess, no flour, sugar or all those nasty things that make us sick?

  4. Those guilt trips are what make me cringe, wasn't it enough that you were there? Would they expect someone that just lost a baby come to those things? Well, that is what it is like being infertile, every month. I hate it that family are the ones that understand the least. Geesh. I hope you treat yourself to something really great today. I would have gone home and drank a bottle of wine.

  5. All I could think was "Ah hon, it sucks that your family isn't more sensitive." I'm so sorry. You deserve a spa day for making it through! I'm praying for you and your family.

    It didn't know that you were also dealing with food allergies. Which ones?

  6. I have had to work myself past this feeling as well. It sucks to be the one who doesn't have a baby, but I can't blame anyone who wants to celebrate their child's birth or birthday. It isn't their fault I'm barren. What I ended up doing was asking people to talk to me on the phone and invite me to these things, so I could talk it over with them and find out more about what was going to happen. Then I would decide how long I wanted to be there and be up front with people about it. I had to own up to my pain and let other people help me get through it. Now I do really well around other babies and kids, and I'm still not pregnant.

  7. When will people realize that their joy doesn't take away from our sadness?

    How many times have I gotten the distinct feeling from other fertiles that, if only they "force" me to hang out with their baby long enough, I might just get so swept up in how great he or she is that I feel better for myself?

    Am I the only one who feels like this is what is happening in their minds?

    You are a better person than I am for enduring this party.

    After this is all over, we might have lost some friends, and maybe other family members will be bitter we were no shows for certain things.

    But it isn't something we can't apologize for later by saying something simply like, "it was a difficult time in my life and I am so sorry I couldn't be there for you. I hope you will understand."

    I am SO sorry you had to endure that but I know exactly how you felt!

  8. Hi, I found you through Pam's blog.
    I could've written this post, exactly. I went to a party(late on purpose) where there were, literally, 6 babies under 1 and 10 more between 1-3. And it wasn't a kid party, it was a holiday party.

  9. Yarg. It's so unfair the way infertility has made me hurt when I hang out with kids, which I used to love doing. Damn infertility.

  10. Ugh... I am SO with you on this one. This is one of the hardest parts of IF - trying to navigate the fertile world, which is all around us!!! And for some reason is always in our face!

    This past Sunday at Mass I was introducing my parents to one of the priests at our church. This priest doesn't know us well and starting inquiring about children and how long we've been married. It's all seemingly harmless conversation to them, but soooo painful for us. I HATE how we look like the birth-controlling couple who is not open to children. And yet at the same time I'm not about to go into our IF story to this 70-year old Msgr in the middle of mobs of people after Mass.

    Anyways, I can totally relate to your story about the party! Sorry dear!

  11. So sorry, it is totally grim. You should have kicked her. Really, I think it might be the only way to make a difference to these people.

    I carried my dead baby into my doctor's surgery in a tupperware bowl this Friday and came face to face with a happy couple plus their parents carrying their new baby out the door (literally, the father was holding the baby and was very tall so it was face to face). It's just cruel.