The grass is not always greener

Warning: This brings up disturbing issues

I’m listening to coverage of a trial of a woman who killed her three children in a city I know well. She and her family had immigrated to New Zealand only weeks beforehand. She had apparently suffered post-natal depression, and had gone through sixteen IVF procedures to have her daughter, and then four years later twin daughters. She was under severe stress, and apparently texted friends and family regularly about wanting to kill her kids. People dismissed it and thought she was joking. Because they knew she loved her children.

I feel for this woman. Sixteen IVF procedures, with only two successes, would have put enormous physical and emotional and financial stress on her and her husband. She would then have felt enormous pressure to feel grateful, and not complain. Sixteen IVFs! I can’t get over that number, that a clinic would allow her to go through sixteen IVF procedures. That she might not have been given support. Her life is now ruined. Her children are dead. Her husband is back in his homeland. I can only despair for her.

It shows me once again that none of us know what anyone else’s life is like. It may look like the perfect outcome to an infertility survivor – three beautiful daughters after years of infertility. But there is always so much going on. Just as someone going through infertility might look at my life, and decide I have nothing. When I have so much.

It also reconfirms for me that none of this is about worth, about deserving to have children or not. Becoming a mother is a joy to some, a nightmare to others. None of us know what life might have been like for us if we had had children, how we might have responded to stress, whether our children would have been easy or hard, whether we would have coped, or not. Likewise, not being able to be a parent is indeed a loss, but it can also open the world to other opportunities and joys.  The grass is not always greener on the other side. All any of us can do is focus on what we have, seek help when we need it, and give help to others. And above all, I think, we can try not to judge others, so they won’t judge us.

 

A No Kidding Grumble

Okay, today I’m going to have a gripe. Nothing major, but just some things that have irritated me.

On FB, I have a number of friends I met during a time of loss. A number of these friends have gone on to have children. I’m very happy for them, and enjoying seeing the occasional photo and hearing about their parenting stories, the ups and the downs. I feel a special bond with a few of their children, and have met some of them. But just occasionally, they post something that I feel like responding to them with just one word. “Seriously?” Infertility amnesia in action.

One of these women puts up a lot of parenting posts. She is an avid follower of a particular parenting style, and I actually find it interesting to occasionally read posts or articles about the philosophy behind it, and how to put it in action. But she shared a video about a woman giving birth, commenting that she had found childbirth to be an amazing experience. (Well, duh!) But seriously? Did she forget about those of her friends who would have given their right eye to have had the chance? Yes. That’s the answer. She forgot about us all! Because I don’t want to contemplate the possibility that she just didn’t care. Sigh.

Another friend seemed (it wasn’t clear) to have established a part-time baby photography business. So random babies appeared regularly on her feed. I love to see photos of her son. I remember her pregnancy, as well as the losses that preceded him. I feel, in an odd way, connected to him. I feel less connected to the children she had and hid when we first got to know each other, and I certainly don’t love to see photos of random babies. And I don’t like that I feel like a grumpy old woman when I have to look at these. One link to her photography site, on the other hand, would be fine. I’d feel like supporting her then. Bah humbug. Yes, that’s me.

And unrelated to those friends, but continuing the grumbling theme (lol), a gripe about someone I know personally. They tell me all about their friends’ kids. I’ve heard about the friends for years, met them once or maybe twice, but never their kids. It’s nice they all have close relationships. But I don’t really want or need to know all the details about these kids. Talk about rub it in!

Okay, grumble over. Life will now resume as normal! 

Complicated choices lead to childlessness

Sue at Childless by Marriage recently wrote a piece titled Childless by Marriage vs Childless by Infertility. She concluded that the main difference between being childless by marriage rather than by infertility was choice. I didn't comment on her post, (though I read and comment regularly on her blog, and would love to see her here), because this one felt very specifically directed towards people who see themselves as childless by marriage. I understand the comfort that can come from talking to people who understand, who have been through similar experiences, and I didn't want to disturb that. Rather, I thought I might explore this issue here, putting my slightly different point of view.

When my husband and I got married, I was young, just graduated from university. I wasn't prepared at the time to discuss children, because I was far from ready, and I couldn't and didn't guarantee I would ever be ready. My husband married me anyway. So he was childless by marriage for years. Little did we know that when I would be ready, my body wouldn't be.

I have heard this this a lot. Women who talk about how carefully they avoided pregnancy in their 20s, only to find in their 30s that they had difficulties conceiving or carrying to term. I don't know if I had tried to get pregnant when I was younger if it would have been possible. It's a pointless question now anyway.

So we then dealt with pregnancy loss and infertility. The issues were mine - I kept having ectopic pregnancies, and then after the trauma of my second ectopic, my body effectively shut up reproductive shop! I have an online friend who had a compatibility issue with her husband that caused their combined infertility. But in most cases, the issue usually lies with one partner or other (or is unexplained). So the other partner, in our case this was my husband, then became childless by marriage. He wasn't infertile, after all. He was childless only because he was married to me. I worried that he would leave me, then I worried that by staying with me, I was denying him the children he so wanted. I wasn't alone in these thoughts. I've seen many many women grapple with the same issue over the years. My husband made the decision to stay, in just the same way as any of the childless by marriage partners who also chose to stay with the one they love. He had a choice. 

If we had lived elsewhere, there might have been more decisions or issues to discuss. Should we go further with IVF options? Should we look at donor egg, or surrogacy? These weren't issues in New Zealand, where assisted reproduction is carefully regulated. But at each step, there are choices to be made. Should we try? How much do we spend?  And at each step, there is a risk of opposing views, or differing limits, and doors closing.

We discussed adoption. Briefly. We had differing views on this. But I knew that I wanted my husband in my life more than I wanted any potential adopted child, knowing how difficult adoption can be. So did our roles switch then? Was I childless by marriage? Potentially. I might have had a choice, but it didn't feel like one. There was no question for me. I chose my husband.

So, we don't have children. Infertility/pregnancy loss is just one of the reasons for that. Anyone who has been through this can see that it can be very complicated. Whether someone is childless by marriage, chance, or circumstance, or all of the above, there will be a list of reasons why they don't have children.  They probably don't know for sure if infertility might have been one of those reasons - after all, none of us assumed infertility would be a problem until it was. We assume we are fertile until evidence is presented that proves otherwise. Does it matter? Not really, because none of these choices feel like choices. Those who are childless by marriage might choose love, and not having children becomes a consequence of that, rather than being their first choice. Life is very complicated, and the issue of choice is really complicated too. I guess it's why I don't really like labels, because things are never quite as clear-cut as they might seem.

I don't feel that how we got here is as important as what our lives look like now. We have all faced difficult decisions and difficult circumstances, and will continue to do so in this pronatalist society. Which is why I feel real solidarity with those who are involuntarily childless for whatever reason. And hope that we can all live full and happy No Kidding lives.

Monday Miscellany: No Kidding version

I'm having real problems commenting on blogger (blogspot) blogs at the moment, when I'm logged into my google profile. I even can't comment on my own blog! I don't know what's going on, but I'm trying to keep commenting either under a different login, or my Separate Life profile. Maybe I just need to upgrade my browser? I always use Firefox for No Kidding and ALI blogs, and Chrome for my other blog (so I can be logged in under the two different profiles at the same time). I wonder if anyone is having trouble commenting here? (I guess if you are, you can't tell me about it - doh! - or maybe you could do it as Anonymous.)

(Edit: I've rebooted and run a cache cleaner etc and refreshed my browser, and seem to be able to comment again. Yay!)

I just had some physiotherapy on an arm issue I've had for about 8 months, and aside from appreciating the neck and arm massage, I had a lovely chat with my physiotherapist, who was talking about becoming a women's health physiotherapist. She has fertility issues, and her mother had unexplained fertility issues, and we talked about the need for women's health to be top of mind, both in terms of treatment, politics, and education. It was great to find a kindred spirit. And I hope she gets to overcome her issues. As she said, she wants to have the choice. 

The Aust/NZ Childless/Childfree Fbk group I have joined keeps me amused with interesting articles and commentary, and funny memes. It's much more upbeat than the other generic (UK based) group I belong to, and helps us feel both understood, and good about our no kidding situations. That's invaluable. The discussion is real, honest, and often points out the benefits of not having kids, as well as the pitfalls. The humour is a little irreverent in an ANZAC way, and I really like that. And of course it reminds childLESS and childFREE of the commonalities of our lifestyle, and of society's views of us. If you're an Aussie or a Kiwi, check it out.

The aforementioned social media group let me know that there's a new book coming out from a Wellington author. I'm going to get her book (if it means a trip to the wonderful Unity Books, I'll go there personally, because their website isn't helping me order it at the moment!), but if you can't get it, this article is excellent. I love the title, "No Miracle Baby to See Here." Isn't that perfect? Because so many of us complain about articles about infertility that end in the miracle baby! She debunks a lot of myths (adoption, etc), and I loved her section where she talked about people assuming she has kids.  She said, 

"...if I like them, I rescue them. I’ll say something like Maybe you’ve seen me with my niece and nephew. But most of the time I just let them flounder. They’ve assumed I’ve got kids because they do, because most people do. Or maybe they assume I’ve got kids because I seem like someone who understands the true meaning of love, and they’re flustered to discover I don’t. Hey, I think I’ve earned the right to make that joke."

I saw another article, Who Does Better Aging Alone? It talks about the various networks older people living alone might have (family/kin based, child-based, limited, friend-based, or diverse), and who suffers from depression, satisfaction with their lives, etc. It's worth a read, and shows me that just because people might live with others, they are no more satisfied with their lives, and sometimes less, than those living on their own with a good network of friends. A key point was having people you could talk to about your lives, which I find interesting. Another reminder to build my friend network - mine is too narrow!

Monday miscellany: No Kidding version

There are lots of articles/blogs/columns about the Pope's comment that people who have pets instead of children are selfish. I'm not going to go into detail here as others have responded to this far more eloquently than I could. There was a particularly good response here, and I have read others too. Lots of comments about the hypocrisy of a church that requires its priests and nuns to remain celibate and childless, whilst berating those without children. I am just frustrated that such a view continues to be repeated - it is at least the second time he has made the "selfish" comment about people without children.

I was at a gathering on New Year's Day. Meeting a new couple, and along with the hosts, we chatted about all sorts of interesting things. It wasn't until another couple joined us - who knew the first couple through school kids - that the question of children came up. The guy asked it, not to my surprise. I often find that men ask this question. Perhaps they think they're trying to bring the women into the conversation (though my feminist sensibilities bristle at this idea), or perhaps his well of conversational topics was running dry (though he didn't seem to be someone who would ever be lost for words). Anyway, I digress. What was interesting, I thought, was the response of his wife, who turned to me and said that she felt she was moving into a different stage of life, as her children are about to leave home. The implication was that she could relate to me more, and she was being kind to include me in that, even though the two states (empty nest and childless) are very different (as I have written before). I appreciated her sensitivity.

Finally, another snippet of a conversation with my BIL. He was talking about his adult daughter (from his first wife), who apparently has decided to "stop contraception and see what happens." I said that I wished her luck, but that at her age (late 30s), "seeing what happens" is not always the wisest idea and that he should ensure she knows that if she has been actively trying for six months without conception, it might be worth getting checked out. "I'm sure that won't be necessary," he said. "Look at (my sister) and I. We did that, and everything worked out." "Yes," I said. "And so did (DH) and I. It's not always that simple." I was so frustrated. He could say that to me, of all people! But more importantly, I didn't want his daughter to delay seeking help out of a false sense of security. So I gave him some info - statistics related to age, related to infertility in the wider population, etc. His daughter was visiting a day or two later. I wonder if he broached the topic. But I did what I could. I'm pleased about that. For her sake, I tried.

 

A Pandemic and Infertility

I’ve been watching many of my international friends struggle the last few weeks. They are struggling with winter, with the pandemic, with the lack of hope, even though they know theoretically that there is hope that this will end. It is piling in on them, winter doesn't help, and it is really tough.

It strikes me once again – as it did last March when we all started going into lockdown – that there is much about the pandemic that is familiar to those of us who have been through infertility.

The lack of control is very familiar. The uncertainty and fear. Living in a state of limbo. Even the unhelpful and unscientific stereotypes that abound.

The exhaustion also seems prevalent, after 10 or more long months of this. I remember a former blogger, Beef Princess, commenting that she was Childless by Exhaustion. I suspect some people have caught or spread COVID-19 by Exhaustion too.

I shared the fears and uncertainty of you all in March and April when I was in lockdown. I used lessons I’d learned from infertility to help me through it, in the same way IP is using her hard-won wisdom here. But that has not been so necessary since then. I know I am lucky, through no effort of my own (other than following the rules). And so by now, I am well and truly on the other side of this pandemic. Not immune. Not cured. Simply not really affected day-to-day. I’m not truly experiencing this pandemic, in the way that some people never experience infertility, or think about it only as a future but unlikely possibility.

So I am having to learn something new – how to sit with you, to listen to your frustrations and fears without dismissing them. I say things like, “I can only imagine …” rather than “I can’t imagine,” and then I actively try to imagine what it is like, to understand what you are all going through, and to try to help in whatever small way I can. But I don’t really know how to do that.

I have one friend who tells me she wants to see photos and stories of life “as usual” in New Zealand, because it gives her hope and reminds her that life can be good. But that reminds me of hearing all those "success stories" and really not wanting to hear any more! So I fear others think that I am being unkind, or smug. So I try to stay alert to that. It’s a good reminder to me that those people who said insensitive things to me during infertility might have been trying to help, but – like me now – didn’t know how. I know they needed me to help them help me, even though at the time I was too exhausted and couldn't face or even resented the need to educate them. 

I'm trying to understand. I want to be able to help. I know nothing I can do though will change things. So I'm here, with you. Listening. Ready to talk if you want to talk. You're not alone. You'll get through this. You are resilient, even if you don't feel resilient, and don't want to have to be resilient because it sucks and it is hard work! You are strong, even if you don't feel strong right now, or because you are tired of being strong. Letting yourself feel vulnerable and rolling with your emotions is in itself resilience, and a how of strength. I hope you know that. And remember, too. You are loved.