Thursday, June 23, 2005


(Warning: Long and somewhat whiny post ahead. Probably not as pretty as a long and winding road.)

Last night when we were lying in bed (which is when I always start deep and important conversations - it’s either there or in the car on a long drive -- something about being stuck there with few other distractions I think) I explained to J why I was sad.

I feel really alone in all this, I said.

Not only am I lacking in friends (outside the computer, that is) but I’m the one who is really invested in this process. It’s not a blame game, it’s just that for the most part it’s my body that’s subjected to tests and procedures and the possible side effects of drugs, so I’ve done more reading and more obsessing and he’s coming along a bit more slowly. He’s doing his part as best he can, I think, it’s just that he’s not in the same place I am. And I feel very alone.

The only local friend with whom I’d discussed all this fertility stress is now the Newly Pregnant Friend. NPF is also really early on - she told me at something like 6 weeks, and so I’m both a little incredibly jealous of her and a little worried that something bad could happen. I’m worried that I’m not ready to be that positive friend to her, both because of the jealousy and because I can’t quite grasp the concept of a smooth, uneventful pregnancy. Oh sure, I know they happen. But I have a hard time believing them to be normal. (Kind of like that elusive second line - I know it exists, but I’ve never seen one.) And then of course, I don’t know how to talk to her about my fertility woes now that she’s pregnant. Plus she lied to me - not that I would expect her to tell me they were trying, but she told me they weren’t yet. I know, it’s not a big thing, and she probably thoguht it would hurt my feelings, but there I was offering advice (I think it was advice and not assvice, though if she was already trying then it was just pointless) and being a listening and supportive friend. But whatever. I’m not angry, I’m jealous. And I don’t really know how our friendship will be right now. (It doesn’t help that she just moved 45 minutes away, though we still work on the same campus.)

Also, I broke up with my therapist, because she’s on campus (which I’ve never really liked) and has a professional relationship with NPF. And so I didn’t feel comfortable going in there and venting about NPF - it just didn’t seem right. Plus, she didn’t know about the NP part of things, and it’s not my place to tell her. So I explained all this as best I could without crossing whatever imaginary line I’ve drawn, and now I’m without a therapist. I mean, if I don’t have friends to talk to I should at least be able to buy a listening ear, right? (This was always my theory about my hair, too - short of surgery, I can’t just pay money to fix my body, but I should be able to get a decent haircut that would make me look stunning, right? The theory never quite holds true, though I do like my most recent stylist - and at the price, I’d expect nothing less.)

I read an article the other day about how hard it is to meet other couples, and I really think they’re right. There are systems and rituals in place to meet a mate, and while they don’t always work, it’s a place to start. But how do you meet new friends? I mean, ideally I’d just be able to drop by and hang out with all of you lovely people (you know, bring ice cream or vodka on a bad day, take you out to celebrate good news, commisserate over obnoxious medical people - all that good stuff) but that’s not so convenient for most of you. So, how do you make new friends as an adult? Work is out - those are a diferent category of friends - social and collegial, but not the kind of people you can call when you’re leaving the doctor’s office and can’t reach your spouse. (Or for when you need to vent about the aforementioned spouse. I mean, of course we have a perfect relationship and never need to vent about each other. No, never. Um, yeah, right.)

I’m not sure what the point of all this was. I’m not actually as depressed as I sound from all this. A little stressed out with school things (major papers to be written, and NOW), but otherwise mostly okay. I think lonely has just become normal, and that’s really sad.


  1. Well, you know I know exactly what you're talking about. I would totally bring you vodka and give you my cell phone number, if I lived anywhere near you, that is. It doesn't count as whinyness if we all think you're right. Right?

  2. A little assvice from the other coast :) Talk to your RE about getting a referral to a therapist that specializes in infertility. It made a HUGE difference to talk to someone who "gets it".

    When I told my regular therapist that I had been diagnosed with high FsH, I had to explain to her what it meant. I then started seeing an infertility therapist and when it shot up to 32 and I told her she handed me a box of tissues and said... I'm sorry.

    Also, check on to see if they have any support groups in your area. You can meet other women/couples going through the same thing and maybe meet some new friends that way.

    I met a group of wonderful women through fertility friend and I'm still in touch w/them.

    Bottom line... you always have us :)

  3. Julie has a great idea about finding a therapist through the RE's office. It'll be better if the therapist gets it.

    I know exactly what you mean about finding friends when you're older. I've mostly found friends through work, but you say that's not an option for you.

  4. Infertility is a lonely dark place. And husbands, though they try, don't get it. Mine has just started really getting it these past few months. And I wish I knew where to meet friends, for I only have a few, and my best friend is due any day, if she hasn't already had the baby (her second).

  5. I feel a lot of the same things you do..I don't have many friends outside the computer either. Truth be told, I like my computer friends better. They "Get it"

  6. It may not be pretty, but it's so, so true.

    It means the world to me that I've found the Infertile Heathers and the whole world o' blog to help me cope with this.

    If only, if only we could hang out with a bottle of vodka (ok, several bottles) for a little Internet Infertiles sleepover.

  7. Yep. If it weren't for my friends inside the computer I would feel very much alone.

  8. I have not made any good friends since high school, and I graduated 9 years ago. Like you, I have no idea how one makes new friends. I am friendly with people from work, but being as they are all 20-30 years older than me I can't really see us forging an everlasting friendship. Thank god for bloggers.

  9. I am right there with you. So many times I wish that my online friends were closer. Living in the land of the uber-fertile, no one around me gets it. There is a frequent discussion of planning baby #2 as if it will all work out perfectly, the lack of trying any of them did, how perfectly spaced their children are.

    If I could, I would bring over a big vat of ice cream and we could cry and rage against the fertility gods together.

    Huge hugs,

  10. I had to make friends when I moved to the US 12 years ago. I knew absolutely no one, and broke up with my partner of 3 years when I left the UK. It was incredibly tough but eventually I had no pride, and introduced myself to a woman I met in a bookshop who seemed cool, the following night she called me and introduced me to a bookgroup she was part of - that group became the centre of my social life, and provided me with friends who are still a very important part of my life.

    It was really hard, but it was worth just saying, "what the hell" and introducing myself to people. I'm pretty shy, but I'm glad I did it. Is there anywhere like a cool bookshop near you where you could do the same?

  11. It's odd that we can make connections so easily through the computer, but 3-d friendships are hard to come by.

    I have friends who try (and do a pretty good job) but no one I actually know gets it. I'm lonely too.