How have you maintained close friendships with friends struggling with infertility/loss?

[Anonymous]

I struggled to get pregnant and finally had DD after years of TTC / IVF. I've been on both sides of the issue. A dear friend recently had a miscarraige in her 11th week - she was devastated. She told me about the miscarraige but was really out of touch for a few weeks as I think she and her husband grappled with their sorrow and grief. During that time I reached out to her, let her know I was there for her, and that I was thinking of her. I never heard anything back.

But I didn't take it personally. Some people need that time to themselves to cope and to heal. Fast forward a few weeks and she reached out to me to get together this weekend. I'm looking forward to seeing her. All of which is to say, don't assume just because your friends have withdrawn for a bit that they're not good friends. They may be trying to grieve, heal, and function in the way that works best for them - let them. And let them know all the while that you are thinking of them and are there for them.

[Anonymous]

Be there for your friends. Ask them to lunch and get a sitter or even better - do a spa day. Then listen. Truly listen to what is going on. And whatever you do, please do not try and problem solve. If I hear from one more person that I will get pregnant if I relax or take a vacation, I think I will scream. I have had plenty of vacations. Let me tell you....it doesn't always work that way. Do not ask them if they are considering adoption IVF etc. If they want to let you know, they will tell you. Just be a friend and let them know you are there for them.

[Anonymous]

Infertility and stillbirth are two incredibly isolating experiences. Even if you know others who going through it, it is rare to find someone IRL going through the exact same thing and who really understands your feelings - someone may be doing IUI but have an excellent prognosis, someone else may have secondary infertility, someone else may have had a series of losses. Your friends won't be able to fully reconnect with you until they've grieved their losses, however long it takes for them to get there. If they are still TTC, the grieving may not be over until they've stopped (for whatever reason), because each period, miscarriage, or failed fertility treatment is another loss to grieve. But if you do stick with it, and are sensitive about what you say, they will come back eventually.

If you can get them into a support group they might find that really helpful.

[Anonymous]

It is also helpful to recognize that infertility is, in many ways, like any other serious illness. The most noticeable, public effect of the disease is not having a child. But, there are many other serious consequences to any prolonged medical struggle. Besides the obvious effects of continually grieving losses and feeling terrible from the medications, I had to turn down jobs and promotions over the six years that I went through infertility because I had to go to the doctor's office three times a week for months at a time. In my profession, that disqualified me for many jobs. This illness made me fall behind my goals at work and feel less professionally successful. Also, it was expensive and meant that my husband and I put off other things in our lives, like home repairs and savings goals. It also put us out of sync with our peers and our families when friends and siblings moved on to the next phase of their lives and we felt stuck in a rut. One of the most irritating, if small, consequences is that people tend to treat childless people like they are whatever age that person was when they had their first kid. So, you are 36 but people treat you like you're 25 in all areas of your life, even areas that have nothing to do with kids.

There seems to be small contingent of people on DCUM (and in real life) who seem to think that people struggling with this illness don't have a right to feel bad about their struggle. I don't get this thinking. It is like saying that you can't feel bad about having cancer unless you actually die of cancer. Of course you can. You can go through a long struggle with cancer and come out the other side in full remission and still be changed by the process of going through cancer treatment. The same is true of infertility. You can make it through to the other side and have a baby, but you are still marked by the journey. I am definitely not the same person I was before this happened. In some ways I am worse off, have a bit of scar tissue that makes it hard for me to quite the optimist that I once was. But, in some ways I am a better person. I am more compassionate that I was, more able to give people the benefit of the doubt when I don't know their backstory, much more careful to try to include people on the margins of my social life because I know what it is like to be left out. I think that anyone who has been through a big trauma/illness gets a bit more perspective.

I don't think I lost any friends because of infertility, but I have always been careful in picking friends and only have a few very good ones. I was always immensely happy for them when they had children because I would never want anyone else to go through what we went through. But, that doesn't mean that I wanted to hang out with them at their mommy and me group. I did bow out of child-centered activities sometimes. Good friends are always understanding of this need for separation.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:It took me five years to get pregnant and during that time I went into a very deep depression and withdrew a lot from many people. One friend in particular was there for me like no one else. While I was struggling she had two healthy children. We remained very close because she listened, she let me know she was there for me, she did not complain about how hard it was to have children or talk constantly about her children. She did talk about how hard it was once in awhile but also said that she reserved those conversations for friends with kids. Friends who could relate and friends who were not desperately trying to get pregnant. We of course did talk about her children but she really seemed to let me lead the way. If I called her crying about yet another failed IVF cycle she didn't say stupid things like "want one of mine?" She just listened. Looking back, I am certain it was a pretty uneven friendship there for awhile with her doing a lot more reaching out and a lot more listening then I did. I am forever grateful to her. We had years and years of friendship behind us by this point so I think that may have been part of the reason she was so patient and considerate with me. We both had a lot invested in the friendship. I am now lucky enough to be a mother and she is still my best friend.

+1. I had a friend like that when I went through infertility. She never once said, just adopt. I think just adopt = just shut up.

[Anonymous]

Once in awhile a good come back is needed, for an obnoxious "friend" One of mine said just take mine, and I replied "Yours? That is an arguement for not having kids at all. Never!" She was the Queen of the insensitive remark.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:It is also helpful to recognize that infertility is, in many ways, like any other serious illness. The most noticeable, public effect of the disease is not having a child. But, there are many other serious consequences to any prolonged medical struggle. Besides the obvious effects of continually grieving losses and feeling terrible from the medications, I had to turn down jobs and promotions over the six years that I went through infertility because I had to go to the doctor's office three times a week for months at a time. In my profession, that disqualified me for many jobs. This illness made me fall behind my goals at work and feel less professionally successful. Also, it was expensive and meant that my husband and I put off other things in our lives, like home repairs and savings goals. It also put us out of sync with our peers and our families when friends and siblings moved on to the next phase of their lives and we felt stuck in a rut. One of the most irritating, if small, consequences is that people tend to treat childless people like they are whatever age that person was when they had their first kid. So, you are 36 but people treat you like you're 25 in all areas of your life, even areas that have nothing to do with kids.

There seems to be small contingent of people on DCUM (and in real life) who seem to think that people struggling with this illness don't have a right to feel bad about their struggle. I don't get this thinking. It is like saying that you can't feel bad about having cancer unless you actually die of cancer. Of course you can. You can go through a long struggle with cancer and come out the other side in full remission and still be changed by the process of going through cancer treatment. The same is true of infertility. You can make it through to the other side and have a baby, but you are still marked by the journey. I am definitely not the same person I was before this happened. In some ways I am worse off, have a bit of scar tissue that makes it hard for me to quite the optimist that I once was. But, in some ways I am a better person. I am more compassionate that I was, more able to give people the benefit of the doubt when I don't know their backstory, much more careful to try to include people on the margins of my social life because I know what it is like to be left out. I think that anyone who has been through a big trauma/illness gets a bit more perspective.

I don't think I lost any friends because of infertility, but I have always been careful in picking friends and only have a few very good ones. I was always immensely happy for them when they had children because I would never want anyone else to go through what we went through. But, that doesn't mean that I wanted to hang out with them at their mommy and me group. I did bow out of child-centered activities sometimes. Good friends are always understanding of this need for separation.

That is a wonderful summation of infertilty. Thank you.

[Anonymous]

While I can sympathize with the struggle of infertility, I don't understand why the infertile woman is allowed to be a bitch and you are supposed to just take it. Why is that okay?

[Anonymous]

Can you sympathize? No one said anything bitchy and caalling all infertile women bitches is unfair.

[Anonymous]

I just made sure to keep reaching out to them for things that had nothing to do with kids. Let's go get pedicures together! Let's grab the husbands and go to dinner together!

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:Can you sympathize? No one said anything bitchy and caalling all infertile women bitches is unfair.

Didn't say all, but some really play the victim and expect you to cater to them, never giving anything in return. You're expected to never talk about your triumphs, your children, your happiness, etc without fear that they will take offense or think you're rubbing it in their face. It gets old. In some fashion or form, people get dealt shitty hands. Be an adult and learn to deal without making everything about you.

[Anonymous]

OP, one of the best things my friends did for me was to not take anything I did or said personally and when I was ready to be friends again, they let me pick up right where we left off. For me, (and like others) I withdrew and couldn't bear to be around moms, pregnant friends or anyone. I was always angry, bitter at the world, at God, at everything. So, I wouldn't call my friends back, wouldn't get together and when we would, I was often sad and difficult to be around.

Fast forward to when I became a mom, I slowly tried to rebuild the friendships I had let slip. wouldn't you know it that my loving and absolutely wonderful friends, embraced me and acted like nothing was wrong and let me come back into their lives without questioning me, making me feel guilty or bad. I treasure these friends more than anything.

So, my advice is to let them know you are there for them, but that you also understand if they need to step away for a little bit, that you'll be there for them when they are ready.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Can you sympathize? No one said anything bitchy and caalling all infertile women bitches is unfair.

Didn't say all, but some really play the victim and expect you to cater to them, never giving anything in return. You're expected to never talk about your triumphs, your children, your happiness, etc without fear that they will take offense or think you're rubbing it in their face. It gets old. In some fashion or form, people get dealt shitty hands. Be an adult and learn to deal without making everything about you.

I really don't think this is what the OP is talking about. There are insensitive, self-centered idiots who are infertile, just like there are insensitive, self-centered idiots who are fertile. But, painting all infertile women with the same negative brush because you happen to know an infertile idiot isn't really fair.

[Anonymous]

I agree with 13:31. The best thing a friend ever said to me is "I'm here when you need me." If I call her out of the blue after not returning calls/texts for weeks, she is very patient with me. I do call myself out when I know I have been an absent friend, and she says "no problem" and is there when I'm up for it. I would never expect this from anyone, though. TTC without success has been cutting into my heart, and I have neglected so many friendships. I haven't been a great friend. So I really appreciate how this particular one is hanging in there with me.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:OP, one of the best things my friends did for me was to not take anything I did or said personally and when I was ready to be friends again, they let me pick up right where we left off. For me, (and like others) I withdrew and couldn't bear to be around moms, pregnant friends or anyone. I was always angry, bitter at the world, at God, at everything. So, I wouldn't call my friends back, wouldn't get together and when we would, I was often sad and difficult to be around.

Fast forward to when I became a mom, I slowly tried to rebuild the friendships I had let slip. wouldn't you know it that my loving and absolutely wonderful friends, embraced me and acted like nothing was wrong and let me come back into their lives without questioning me, making me feel guilty or bad. I treasure these friends more than anything.

So, my advice is to let them know you are there for them, but that you also understand if they need to step away for a little bit, that you'll be there for them when they are ready.

Glad to know your friends aren't as selfish as you are/were. Seriously, you should be ashamed of your behavior; I hope you at least had the decency to apologize when you finally deemed them worthy of your time and attention.