Putting it out there

Something has been brewing in me for a while.  Sadly it is not a foetus.  However, the jumbled collection of thoughts and feelings is starting to strain to get out and assembled in some form of order, and I think I need to let it have its wings and see what transpires.

Perfectionist me would never let something like this see the light of day until it was all done, and, of course, perfect.  Perfectionist me says stuff like “OMG, are you making a fool of yourself?  What will people think when they see this?  Are you trying to write a book or something?  Stop embarrassing yourself!  There are other, much better books than your not-even-a-book already out there.  Who wants to hear what you have got to say?  What makes you think you could do it, anyway?  And how embarrassing if you just say this stuff and then nothing ever comes of it?  If it just ends here?  All you’ll be is a failure that was stupid enough to expose herself as a failure.  Are you insane?”

But luckily, with the help of my family, my friends, my husband, my therapist, my own consistent practice and awareness, and development of self-kindness, and guideposts from authors in all sorts of genres, perfectionist me hasn’t got the hold she once had.

And authentic me is starting to break through.  Authentic me says stuff like “You know what?  It’s ok if this is all this is.  Who knows what the outcome of creativity can be? Why do you have to know the ending right now?  You don’t have to have any expectations, this can be enough.  I don’t know what is pushing me to express this stuff, and why now, and it’s ok not to know.  What is not ok is not to listen to my needs.  To stuff them down because Perfectionist me is uncomfortble expressing them.

I need to say this stuff, for whatever reason, and I want to say it here because I feel safe.  I also want to say it here because this is a community in which many people share some of my experiences with infertility.  And I want to hear from them.  From you.  I have no idea how much the ‘reply’ sections will hold.  Maybe you’d like to create a word doc and email it to me.  Maybe you wouldn’t.  Whatever.  I’d love to hear whatever you want to tell me.

Ok.  So here goes:

Vulnerability and Shame- the heart of Infertility

Brene Brown describes shame as a ‘silent epidemic.’  I think the shame of infertility is very silent, deep and pervasive.

I’ve read a few books on infertility (how-to-fix-it guides; success–stories-with a battle-in-between; process-of-how-we-did-it tales; life-goes-on-after-it memoirs)

I’d like to read a book full of stories that talk solely about the experience of infertility from the point of view of how it feels.  Not on having the focus of whether there was a baby at the end of it, and “oh it was hard but oh-so-worth it”.  I think there are plenty of them.  I want to hear stories that come from the heart, that (gently) expose this shame and vulnerability to the light, and reassure us that our responses to these situations are NORMAL.  So that people going through this terribly isolating and painful journey may find themselves in these pages and feel they are not alone, on an experiential level.  Not just intellectually, but really connected by feelings.  To bring some understanding to how these feelings affect every facet of our lives, and what we can do with them to help us acknowledge them, own them and let them go.  And, just maybe, as a bonus, it can serve also to explain this whole set of complex circumstances and reactions to the people who love us, so that they are able to support us more effectively.

Through the telling of these stories, I would hope that the shameful component is lessened.  By bringing it out of the dark, hidden closet of self disgust and self-loathing.  Through the feeling of being connected.  Through speaking our truths about our authentic selves.  By sheer volume of shared experience.

Where is this book?  If you know of it, please pass that information on to me!  If nothing like this exists, then maybe we should write it.

I want to feel heard.  I want to feel less alone.  I want to feel like I am allowed to have a voice.  I want to feel like someone wants to hear it.

What do you want?

What I have outlined below is not exhaustive, not even of my own experiences.  It is just the tip of the iceberg.  It is what simply burst out of me this afternoon because it refused to stay contained one more minute.  I would love you to contribute what you feel strongly about to any of the categories below, and to add your own situations and categories also, in whatever way suits you.

What emotions are felt by those of us immersed in the world of infertility?

• Shame
• Failure
• Loss
• Pain
• Grief
• Hurt
• Anguish
• Despair
• Hope
• Foolish for hoping
• Ashamed for failing
• Isolated
• Bereft
• Adrift
• Lonely
• Confused
• Jealous
• Spiteful
• Frustrated
• Angry
• Incoherent
• Full of rage
• Anxious
• Abandoned
• Dismissed
• Inconsequential
• Crazy
• Debilitated
• Betrayed
• Outcast
• Sidelined
• Marginalised
• Ostracized
• Segregated
• Overlooked
• Powerless
• Out of control
• Like a loser
• Embarrassed
• Grasping at straws- desperate
• Depressed
• Miserable
• Shaken
• Devoid of confidence
• Suffocated
• Stifled
• Churned up inside

What kind of situations/events/occurrences impact on our emotions? (obvious and not so obvious). How do the losses/failures/isolation/invisibleness make them feel?

• Other people’s pregnancies (when this happens, I feel cheated.  Why the fuck isn’t it MY turn? I feel angry.  I feel resigned to and sad about losing my friendships to motherhood.  I feel judgemental “how come that crack addict deserves a baby and I don’t?”  I feel ashamed that I am not happy for them, but sad for myself).

• Our own pregnancies (when this happens I feel scared, anxious, apprehensive.  I wonder how it will end -chemical, ectopic, miscarriage?  How far will I get?  Who will I/won’t I tell? I feel stupid, embarrassed, like people will judge me for being careless to let this happen when I know what I’m in for.  I feel guarded against other people’s enthusiastic and excited responses, because they act as if I am actually going to have a baby.  I know I am not, so their response feels more to me like they are thrilled I am about to have another miscarriage.  I feel murderous rage towards their insensitivity).

• Baby showers (when this happens, I feel awkward, because nobody has ever invited me to one.  I feel conflicted.  I wouldn’t want to go anyway, but I feel segregated and ostracised and embarrassed by the reason for my omission).

• Births (when this happens, I feel angry that people send me huge files of pictures of their newborns from every angle, I feel like they are not being sensitive to me, I feel unimportant.  I also feel jealous as hell).

• Mothers’ Day (when this happens, I feel invisible and unacknowledged.  My ten children do not exist.  They do not bring me breakfast in bed or draw me cute cards.  No one speaks of them to me.  They do not count, they are nothing to the rest of the world.  Other people get to parade their gifts and share their joy.  I feel abandoned, outcast, sidelined, angry, resentful, and very, very sad.  I also feel shamed into silence because it is not publicly acceptable to speak these truths for fear of making other people uncomfortable.  I feel rejected).

• Christmas (when this happens, I feel dread.  Like I have to pretend to be fine with my siblings about being with their kids, having their kids as the focus of everyone’s attention ALL DAY like there was nothing else important in the world.  I feel small, worthless, sidelined and stifled in my expression.  This makes me feel resentful.  I feel like a loser- why would we have Xmas decorations up just for the two of us?  Christmas is for kids, right?  We don’t have kids.  I feel left out).

• Our own Birthdays (when this happens, I feel like another year has passed without me achieving my goal, realising my dream.  I feel impotent and angry and ashamed for failing).

• Family gatherings (see Christmas and add in the feelings about Mother’s Day).

• People’s comments on what you should do about your infertility (when this happens, I feel outraged, indignant, frustrated, attacked, judged and found wanting, not good enough).

• People’s comments on how other people have successfully had children [so you will too!] (when this happens, I feel overlooked; angry that they can’t take the time to think about how their comments may be perceived by the recipient; weary that I have to take the time to spell out how and why these comments are less than helpful to me.  I feel completely unsupported).

• People’s judgements on what you are doing/have done/have not done on your infertility journey [See above. Thanks Aunt Jane].

• People’s inability to take on board information about your infertility journey/procedures etc (when this happens, I feel belittled, dismissed, of no importance, not worth the effort).

• People’s unwillingness to say anything because the whole thing makes them feel uncomfortable (when this happens, I feel invisible, dismissed, unimportant, ashamed, abandoned.  I feel like the elephant in the room).

How do these feelings then affect our life?  Our behaviours, our decisions, our thoughts, our self-messages? Our relationships?  Our sense of identity? (and any other category you care to name- go ahead and add it).

I ran out of puff right about here. Who wants to start?!  I think this might be a thesis.