Anonymous wrote:OP, your friend may be suffering from depression. I struggled with infertility for almost eight years before I had a baby from donor eggs. I thought I was holding it together really well and nobody could tell what a complete mess I was, especially in the last few years. After I had the baby and the fog cleared, I was able to see that I had almost completely shut down emotionally (and a sort of physically too). I could feel myself starting to reconnect with life and enjoy people and things the way I used to be able to. Your friend may not realize that her behavior is changing. Depression can really change how you act, but the person with depression doesn't always realize how bad things have gotten. With hindsight I can see how much I had withdrawn from life, but at the time I was making what felt like such an effort to stay engaged and not let people know what I was going through or have it impact our friendships. Luckily, I have some great friends who stuck by me. I probably had some not so good friends who didn't, but I didn't have the emotional bandwidth to worry about that too much.
Anonymous wrote:If you've never been through it, you have NO IDEA how incredibly difficult and painful it is. Please, just give her time and space. And in the meantime, if you are a believer, please pray for her.
Signed - been there, done that.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:maril332 wrote:I'm on OP's side. Her friend does not have to act like she's the first person in the world to have issues in life. Ignoring good friends doesn't make it easier.
I have to agree. I have secondary infertility and missing out on my friends' new children is anathema to me. I choose to think of it as an opportunity to flex my maternal side and grow the love around me, even if it isn't in the way I had imagined. I understand the pain people go through, but it is hard for me to understand what is gained by isolating oneself and pushing away people who want to love and support you. I have found that talking frankly about our situation has helped immensely, and that far from being "insensitive," my friends have proven themselves to be amazingly sensitive, gracious, and supportive.
I'm sorry but secondary infertility is different from not being able to have any children at all. You really don't understand that?
I almost think it would be worse for the person with secondary infertility because they actually know what it's like to create life and be a parent. People with primary infertility are wallowing in self-imposed misery about a concept that is completely abstract to them. I feel worse for the person who actually knows what it's like, chooses to do it again, and can not.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:maril332 wrote:I'm on OP's side. Her friend does not have to act like she's the first person in the world to have issues in life. Ignoring good friends doesn't make it easier.
I have to agree. I have secondary infertility and missing out on my friends' new children is anathema to me. I choose to think of it as an opportunity to flex my maternal side and grow the love around me, even if it isn't in the way I had imagined. I understand the pain people go through, but it is hard for me to understand what is gained by isolating oneself and pushing away people who want to love and support you. I have found that talking frankly about our situation has helped immensely, and that far from being "insensitive," my friends have proven themselves to be amazingly sensitive, gracious, and supportive.
I'm sorry but secondary infertility is different from not being able to have any children at all. You really don't understand that?
I almost think it would be worse for the person with secondary infertility because they actually know what it's like to create life and be a parent. People with primary infertility are wallowing in self-imposed misery about a concept that is completely abstract to them. I feel worse for the person who actually knows what it's like, chooses to do it again, and can not.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:maril332 wrote:I'm on OP's side. Her friend does not have to act like she's the first person in the world to have issues in life. Ignoring good friends doesn't make it easier.
I have to agree. I have secondary infertility and missing out on my friends' new children is anathema to me. I choose to think of it as an opportunity to flex my maternal side and grow the love around me, even if it isn't in the way I had imagined. I understand the pain people go through, but it is hard for me to understand what is gained by isolating oneself and pushing away people who want to love and support you. I have found that talking frankly about our situation has helped immensely, and that far from being "insensitive," my friends have proven themselves to be amazingly sensitive, gracious, and supportive.
I'm sorry but secondary infertility is different from not being able to have any children at all. You really don't understand that?
Anonymous wrote:Sometimes for women going through IF you get the worse reactions from well meaning friends and family.
1. "Just stop trying and it will happen"
2. The generic "everything will be fine"
3. Pity
4. Pretending that the issue doesn't exist
All of these suck and are never helpful! Sometimes the only way to deal with the desperation and sadness is to pull away.
Give her time, even though you understand her pain you did have a child so you can't REALLY understand, get it?
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I decided to be childfree and pretty much distance myself from friends with kids. It is never the same afterward.
But why? I don't understand the logic that deciding to be childfree means you can't be friends with people who have kids. We have kids and have lots of childfree friends by choice. Can you explain this to me?
Anonymous wrote:She has had several unsuccessful IUIs and is now avoiding me and her other friends with children in a very obvious way. I have sympathy for her, I can understand why she might be sensitive right now. I don't know what to do, I don't think there's anything I could say that would help. Before the peanut gallery weighs in, it also could be that I'm a jerk, who knows. Any suggestions or wisdom for me?
Anonymous wrote:Sometimes for women going through IF you get the worse reactions from well meaning friends and family.
1. "Just stop trying and it will happen"
2. The generic "everything will be fine"
3. Pity
4. Pretending that the issue doesn't exist
All of these suck and are never helpful! Sometimes the only way to deal with the desperation and sadness is to pull away.
Give her time, even though you understand her pain you did have a child so you can't REALLY understand, get it?
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:If you've never been through it, you have NO IDEA how incredibly difficult and painful it is. Please, just give her time and space. And in the meantime, if you are a believer, please pray for her.
Signed - been there, done that.
Yeah, pray for her while she gives you her ass to kiss. The world doesn't revolve around her infertility.
Would you be so callous if your friend was dealing with a life-threatening illness? What if she suffered a death in her immediate family? Why are you making someone else's hardship about your needs?
Exactly. No one would dream of using the phrase "wallowing in poor me-dom" to describe someone in those situations. It's because deep down, people (mostly those who've never experienced it) don't believe infertility is a good enough reason to experience significant grief or depression. It isn't worthy of our compassion in the way that other tragedies are. Instead, infertiles are told to "buck up" and "deal with it".