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.

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.

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

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.

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.