NIAW – Repressed

A high-school friend of Sparring Partner’s and her husband came to visit us over the weekend. We don’t hear from them often as she’s often jet-setting around the globe, but a few weeks ago during a long phone conversation she admitted to SP that they had gone to our very own reproductive endocrinologist for a donor egg cycle as well as an attempt at a subsequent frozen embryo transfer. She did not get pregnant. Dee (let’s call her Dee, shall we?) asked if at a later date she could pick my brain about it, and of course I’m always up for a good brain-picking.

While they were visiting the topic did turn to infertility and going through treatments. We compared notes and swapped horror stories about progesterone in oil (PIO) shots. I shared the time I had hit a vein (or something) with the needle and blood shot out of the hole on my ass; she shared how she had to have an infected subcutaneous mass, which was most likely due to her PIO shots, surgically removed from her ass. She won that “Which Sucks More” contest. We went on to compare costs, the number of eggs retrieved and transferred, protocol, etc., etc. Dee and her husband are now considering adoption and overseas surrogacy.

After they left, Sparring Partner told me that our conversation had brought up a lot of unpleasant memories for him. Things he admits he had forgotten about. Was glad to have forgotten. I can’t say I blame him.

These are not things I think about every day. Not any more, and for that you have no idea how relieved we both are. My life revolved around infertility and miscarriages from November 2004 until July 2008, just a little over four years. For some, a very short time; for others? An unimaginable waste of time and energy. Reading posts from my old blog always brings back very painful memories. Some so painful, I wonder how in the world could I have forgotten them until the moment I read those words again. Forgotten is probably not the best word for it: Repressed is more accurate, don’t you think?

I read very few infertility blogs now. When my friend Serenity wrote about an anonymous commenter suggesting she should be happy with what she’s already got (paraphrased in regards to secondary infertility (SIF)), I got my rage on. I remember tackling that topic so many times and reading her words once again brought out all those feelings I had repressed. I dug again in my archives and stumbled into one of my posts that actually was never published on my blog, but through a blog that no longer exists, created by Dawn Friedman. To create the link, I have now published it on my old blog (which if you still have in your reader, you’ve already seen). I would really love for you to go read it as I think it’s one of my better posts when it comes to SIF.

Dee’s visit coincided with this week being National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW), April 24 – 30, 2011. I don’t advocate myself as much as I use to when it comes to infertility, and in many ways I regret that because the camaraderie and support from my fellow IF bloggers was (and still is!) second to none. However, at some point, I’ve both consciously and subconsciously made decisions that distance myself in order to protect what is left of my sanity. New worries and concerns (a son with ADHD and possibly ODD) (cancer) (eventually a child who needs to know her donor story) replace what has been archived. But I will always – ALWAYS – make myself available for questions, conversations, and debate when it comes to infertility and miscarriage issues.

I am grateful that I don’t have to deal with infertility issues every day like I did in the “good ole’ days”, but I am more grateful that when they do come up, I can offer a shoulder, words of encouragement, and most importantly when it comes to infertility – an ear to just listen.

7 thoughts on “NIAW – Repressed”

  1. I love this post. We are talking about trying for a baby this fall and I have heard over and over again just be happy with what you have. I never wanted just one child but right now, I am once again not ovulating or ovulating very randomly and so the possibility exists that we may have to start down the treatment road again. People just don’t understand that it can be just as painful the second or third time around when your heart longs for another child.

  2. I never, EVER understood how infertiles could be so judgmental of those struggling with SIF. The way I looked at it, I could cope better – I could recuse myself from friends with kids. J and I could go away for the weekend and reconnect at a whim. I didn’t have to see pregnant bellies at daycare or school or hear my kid ask for a sibling.

    And now that I’m here, it’s a DIFFERNT heart-wrenching. Instead of being panicky that I’d never be a mom… now it’s hard because I KNOW what those embryos we transfer MIGHT be. Yes, my eyes may be wide open, but I can no longer look at embryos as “chances” like I could when we were trying the first time. They’re babies, little people.

    It’s awful. And part of me wants to just quit and move on so that I CAN have some distance from the Fail. I know J wants that, for certain.

    But yes, Summer’s right. Infertility is infertility, and it’s sucky and painful no matter who you are. To quote a no-longer-blogging-blogger (Smarshy) from back in the day, it’s a bag of ass no matter which type of infertility it is.


  3. I sat her slackjawed when I read that SP had forgotten the painful memories. It speaks volumes about the difference between men and women.
    BigD and I actually have entirely different memories of our IF days. I remember the anguish, the devastation after each loss, the painful treatments and surgeries and on and on and on.
    He, on the other hand, remembers having to “perform on demand, like a f*cking stud horse” (Yeah, in his dreams). He seriously said that. Eight years of all the crap that IF brings, and THAT is what he remembers. Jackass.

    Having friends that are going through IF really does bring it back. Being there, and lending a knowing ear and heart is the best thing you can do.

  4. I saw your post on your old blog and read that before I read this post here. I also didn’t know whether to comment on that post/blog or not and am glad I have a chance to say something here.

    Years ago, when I first started reading blogs yours (one of your older ones) was one of the first ones I came across. I read a few of your posts and decided I couldn’t follow you because you already had a child. I didn’t believe I could connect with you because I was sure as someone who already had a live child and trying, you couldn’t possibly understand or feel the same pain as someone who has never had a child and trying (yes, I played the pain olympics). Sometime later, I found your blog again and this time around I had the sense to realize there was no difference between what you–and anyone else who already had a child but was struggling with infertility to have another– was going through and what I–or anyone who didn’t already have a live child and was struggling with infertility–was going through. I realized how ridiculous it was that I had assigned that distinction between us. Infertility is infertility. It doesn’t matter what phase of your family building experience you are at, infertility hurts the same and it sucks the same.

    You taught me that and that is why I have been stalking you ever since.

  5. I’m sorry your friend did not meet with success, and that SP had to relive some of the unfortunate memories. Both posts were fantastic – I didn’t know if I should comment on the other one, so I’m complimenting you here.

You can say it here.

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