Sometimes, you get things wrong
Sometimes, you get things wrong.
Particularly when you have been through the IVF track. For those who are fortunate to not have had to have IVF, it goes thus: People peering up your hooch. Needles. Hormones. Extreme crying. More people looking up the passage. More needles. Extra needles. Hot flashes. Various tablets put up your backside (or frontside) to melt as needed. More fanny exams. Big needles, complete with happy drugs. Two weeks of agonizing wait (complete with several weeks of agonizing weight, courtesy of the treatments). If you pass that hurdle, three weeks of agonizing wait. Then you get the next 8 months of people peering inside of you and you jumping at every little twitch and nudge.
For the “average couple” having a baby is about a takeaway curry and a drunken snog leading to unprotected sex, which then leads to peering at various pregnancy tests and then agreeing eh, fuckit, now is as good a time as any to have kids. Or so I’m told.
And these two worlds, while operating for the same end result, are often polar opposites.
While in Wales I bought a copy of the Observer (Sunday’s Guardian, known as “the Grauniad” as they used to be fairly poor at the ol’ spell check). The Guardian is known as being a slightly pink, made-for-hippies-and-teachers kind of newspaper (and they have Lucy Mangan, whom I adore). I have been sampling Sunday papers for my periodical of choice, and while I like the Guardian a lot, they haven’t won me over as a Sunday reader. While I am immature and can get behind a newspaper that says “fuck” a lot, I do rather prefer my newspaper to have some news in it.
That, and I came across a column written by Mariella Frostrup.
Here’s my time card, I’m checking out of that paper, thanks.
She wrote a little ditty, which you can find here, about advising an IVF family.
The problem was thus:
The dilemma: My husband and I have been trying for a baby for five years, with one 11-week pregnancy to show for it. We have had tremendous support from my family. My husband’s sister has had three successful pregnancies during this time, and we have welcomed and loved each addition to the family. However, she did not tell my husband of her most recent pregnancy, leaving it to their mother, when she was six months pregnant, and neither of them told us of the arrival of our latest niece (my husband found out a few days later, when he rang his mother). We are dealing with IVF (as my in-laws know), and feel that we are not only surplus to requirements from his family’s point of view but also the ghosts at the banquet, a downer. I realise that they want to focus on their grandchildren, but it is an added strain that they cannot include us in the picture. My in-laws seem to feel that our failure to produce children equates to our failure as human beings. Should we continue to engage with these people, or should we go it alone?
Whereby everything proceeded to go right off the rails, in my opinion.
The thing is, unless you are that person in that place, you can’t know how to deal with it. My sister-in-law was blissfully pregnant and rubbing her large stomach while I was trooping off to the bathroom to replace blood-soaked pads from miscarriage #2 at one point, but since they didn’t even know we were trying it’s fairly impossible to get angry that people weren’t being “respectful”. When I read the reader’s problem, I thought: Actually, had that been me I would have been glad that they kept it from me for a while. It’s going to hurt finding out early or late regardless, but them not telling me immediately means that they know this is going to hit me hard.
I thought Mariella’s advice was fairly rubbish and more than just a little bit “all about Mariella”. The comments online though, those made my blood boil. There it was, fairly early on –
The fact is that the planet is bursting with children and I have hardly any sympathy for couples who go through IVF for years on end and not wanting to adopt. If you really wanted children that much then you could adopt. You and your husband are not a failure, you are just very narcissistic and self centered.
Ah yes. Just adopt. That old chestnut. Because children are hanging out of balcony windows and agencies hurtle babies at open arms with a gleeful sigh. Or, it could be as a rather lone voice of reason in the comments states:
It’s wearisomely predictable that when someone says they’re going through IVF, they get slated for not adopting, as if wanting to have their own kid is somehow abnormal and they’re evil for not wanting to look after someone else’s.
But here’s the thing – the comments were divided in how to handle things. On one side it sounds as though half were people who viewed things as simply a mis-communication and a need to sit down and talk. On the other hand, it sounds like the other half of the bandstand was filled with “just-adopt-what-the-fuck-is-your-problem-you-oversensitive-cow” folk.
And there’s the problem. “Handling” people who are going through treatment. Not only is treatment hard on the family, but it’s hard on the psyche. Throw into the mix the fact that people don’t all react in the same way – while I would have been ok with not being told about the pregnancy out of deference to my own struggles, I can see that others would view that as a type of treason – and how the hell is anyone supposed to know the best way to reach out and talk to people they know and love who are going through treatment? Isn’t the best advice for the woman to sit down with her family, tell them how she’s feeling, see if they can all agree how best to communicate? And when unicorns and leprechauns stop dancing jigs over the rainbow and reality sets in, can we at least understand ourselves what we want and need from people?
Even then you can get it wrong.
As I did earlier this week.
I said in a post this week: I like my sort-of-stepmother-in-law very much, but she’s slightly special. Having never had children herself, she’s not always the easiest person to be around with youngsters.
Oh for fuck’s sake, Shannon.
A lovely email came into my inbox from J (chiding me in the single most graceful admonishment I’ve ever received) about that sentence. And rightly so. What a seriously insensitive thing for me to write. My stepmom doesn’t have kids but so badly wanted them. Her inability to have them, combined with family troubles, means that my comment was even worse. She’s not good with babies, but I didn’t have to multiply it by a factor of ten.
You remember what it was like, don’t you? J said very kindly (really she was kind, I’m not being ironic here, it was a lovely email). And that’s just it – I remember it all the time. All the fucking time I remember the dashed hopes, the tears, the yearning for a family, the bleeding, the pain at seeing absolutely everyone get pregnant (and actually sometimes that one still hurts). I remember it all. So for that, I am truly sorry for my stupid comment earlier this week.
And this is how it is – when you are dealing with someone who is going through IVF, sometimes you get things wrong. Even people who have been through IVF get it wrong. And we’re the ones who should consistently be getting it right.
Mea culpa?
-S.
PS-the ever fabulous Mums Rock has another post of mine up. Enjoy (or hopefully enjoy, anyway. Hope I’m not getting ahead of myself there.)
I like to think I’m pretty easy going – you know, live and let live. Until today, I didn’t quite get why people would go through the pain of IVF instead of adopting. After all, I’ve never been in that position, I’ve never had to make a choice like that. But people make their choices and I don’t have a whole lot to say about it. But I did wonder. You’ve explained it perfectly – you might very well want your own and not raise someone else’s child. Something that I suspect would come back at you a lot. I think I get it, as well as I can get it from this perspective. Thank you.
You’re not getting ahead of yourself…I love that I can read you in two places! Please don’t stop linking to your other writing!
You’re a wee star! And yes, it really is bizarre how some folk seem to think that it is the duty of the infertile to take on someone else’s kids. In the UK, adopting a child almost certainly means taking on a child who’s been through a world of hurt, may or may not have significant learning difficulties (and you might not know that when you take them on), will probably have huge emotional and behavioural issues and is going to need MASSIVE amounts of support. That’s the reality of it, and it’s really not for everyone!
This is why I keep my mouth shut and my arms open. As they say, better to let them think I’m an insensitive asshole then to open my mouth and remove all doubt. Doesn’t mean I haven’t about bitten my tongue in half doing it, but it is a nice mantra for me at least.
omg is that ever true!! I’m definitely guilty as sin when it comes to “opening my mouth and removing all doubt”. Great guest post!!
I come from no point of personal knowledge on this, but we need to remember that the person chose to write to an ex-celebrity in a national newspaper for advice, not the numerous fertility support groups available online, nor the general support groups and services – for what reason I do not know. Frostrup chose to answer the question in the best possible way she could, admitting that she hadn’t the same experience. Being modern media, the story is then placed online for anyone to comment. Online there are idiots, misinformed, and naive as well as the wise, informed and educated.
One of the things I am most proud of on this fair isle is the freedom to express views and debates. Your arguments are valid and you have an insight that many others do not. I hope you commented and provided reasoned argument on the site to educate those people that don’t have the same level of insight as you. As well as highlighting this to your (I presume) already informed readers.
As you point out we all get it wrong. We need to educate, not condemn.
Touche Jack, touche! ;)
I have birth children. I’m adopting and fostering children.
I don’t really see a difference between the two, and it is why I don’t talk about the subject at all.
Yes.
The adopt tag mostly comes from people who DON’T adopt, but go merrily on to have their own genetic children. Easily.
It’s a natural urge and advice about infertility from somebody who’s never experienced it is about as helpful as advice on deep-ocean diving from somebody who lives in the middle of the sahara.
g
We all get hurt and hurt back. How we respond when our hurting others is brought to our attention says so much more about our character than the fact that we erred to begin with, I think.
Not sure that made sense other than in my own head.
You are good inside. If you see or think you have done wrong, you say it. I admire you. You continue to do the right thing, and you continue to impress. Those of us without babies and know how think you are amazing…
As someone who went through the crucifying hell of infertility and eventually made the choice to “just adopt”, that phrase is the biggest bunch of bullshit ever uttered. There is no JUST about it. I’d like to say, however, that my son IS my OWN child. (Yes, words have meaning.) He’s MY child; he is HER child. He is OUR son. I’m “looking after him” in the exact same manner that those raising their biological offspring are “looking after” them until such time that they look after themselves.
But to the point – I think the advice / comments are all about trust. I noticed the comment about your MIL but I trust you. I know the place from which you come, so I was able to see it for how you most likely intended it. From someone I have no trust, I immediately go to that dark place where I want them feel the burn of a thousand splendid sons. I have to agree with Jack about someone looking for advice from a celebrity column. As my grandmother would say – consider the source!
Yes. Just adopt, because it’s JUST so easy. Sigh.
Oh and I meant to mention, we conceived our son after 16 months of trying. Naturally, luckily. OH so luckily. When I was 6 months pregnant and being hospitalised for (yet another lot of) bleeding, my SIL announces that she is pregnant. How far along? Oh about 2 weeks behind me. I was bitter. I would have wanted to be told, even though she kept it from us because we’d been having trouble.
She also didn’t get any morning sickness, and her kids all slept through the night. Good thing I like her or I’d want to stab her.
I have to say, if someone characterised me as “not having children so not the easiest person to be around with youngsters”, I would be fuming. Nay, spitting.
Yes, our house is not very childproof, and yes, Mr Spouse got cross when a favourite ornament of his, placed out of child’s-arm-reach, was given to my niece when quite small to play with, and it was chipped. But I hope we are able to play with visting children and do some fun things with them, even if we can’t let them run at will and pull things off shelves, and even if we don’t have stacks of toys.
I hate to add fuel to the fire, but I must say, I do think it’s unfair that people who have gone through the no doubt incredibly difficult and and heart-rending process of IVF believe that anyone who hasn’t must automatically be an insensitive, blissfully ignorant cow.
I haven’t gone through IVF. I’m currently trying to conceive my first child. I’ve only been at it for a few months, but still every period that comes is difficult. I have no illusions and no doubt that IVF can be one of the most difficult things to go through in life, and I fear finding out that it is necessary. It’s not something I want to go through, just as I’m sure you would have preferred not to have to go through it either.
My husband and I are trying to conceive after thinking it through, examining our lives and our finances, and deciding that yes, now is the time. We certainly haven’t had a single drunken snog and rumpy-pumpy session, and then a whoopsie, “guess we have to deal with it” moment. Yes, that does happen, but I know that there is a middle ground, because I try to live it. I don’t pry into the lives of my friends who have been married for some time and have no children. I don’t ask everyone I meet, willy-nilly, when the time will come for them because I am sensitive to the possibility that perhaps they have been trying, desperately, for longer than anyone would guess. I keep my heart and mind open, and hope I can support my friends through any situation. I will admit that I feel jealous, sometimes to a shocking degree, when I see a bump, or hear an announcement. I want that to be me, but I don’t blame them for getting there sooner.
I don’t get offended when I read the blog of an IVF veteran who uses that same old characterization of those who get pregnant without intervention. I do think, though, that it is unfair to blame and name-call those who can. I know that you know that not everyone who gets pregnant without IVF is an irresponsible drunkard, and I’m sure that other infertility bloggers that I have read know that as well. It eventually becomes apparent though, after seeing nearly every infertility blogger trot out that same stereotype, that sometimes the responsible and sensitive couples who are lucky enough to naturally conceive are forgotten or just assumed not to exist.
@ Rachel – I just emailed you, but you’re absolutely right. There is a middle ground and I apologize if I may everyone who doesn’t have to have IVF seem like people who don’t give a toss if they conceive or not, that it happens on day 1 of trying. That wasn’t my intention, honest, I want instead to show that it feels like there are two camps – the “Can’t Have Kids Naturally” and the “Can Have Kids As Easy As Toasting Pop Tarts” camps. But the truth is, those camps don’t need to be structured the way they are, we can instead all be more supportive of one another. So I’m sorry if I came across as condemning. I really wish you and your husband the best of luck.
Shannon— it’s more complicated than that, even. I have friends who run the gamut from “She’s pregnant again?”* to “Well, they’re only doing the one set of IVF because she nearly died from hyperemesis”** to “He doesn’t want to have fertility testing because he hates the idea that there’s anything wrong with him.” I have friends who wanted to have a home birth, and every one ended up in the hospital with complications. (Umm… maybe you should wait until #2 to try home births. Just an idea.) I have a friend whose adopted child is the one most people say looks like her (she’s caucasian and married a filipino.) I even know someone whose latest child had a trisomy disorder and lived about ninety minutes after birth.
About the only reason nobody hates me at this point for foot-in-mouth comments is they know that I’m trying to say the right thing. And it’s been a long, hard slog to get to the point when I know to keep my mouth shut— MOST of the time.
*This is the one who had as many miscarriages as children. She’s had her tubes tied now, mostly due to other health issues that numerous pregnancies were complicating.
**Twins— and she lost fifteen pounds during pregnancy, despite the IV drip of anti-nausea drugs.
Hi, I am going to skip the IVF topic and just focus on Mariella.. I think her advice is usually crap. Every Sunday I say to my husband “why do we still buy this paper?” Also extremely annoying is Susie Boyt’s column in the FT. Have you ever read it? Every week such dribble!! How do these people get repeat gigs in major newspapers like the Guardian and FT? I would rather read you every Sunday! I love England, but really miss the Sunday NY Times being delivered to our doorstep..
{cue me stomping off…obviously this has been bothering me for awhile and I needed to vent, lol..please feel free to continue important IVF topic now..}
I agree with Kim – why would anyone write to Mariella Frostrup? Why not just go straight to Jan Moir while you’re at it?! As someone who has had 3 rounds of IVF (one of which resulted in an extraordinary mircale aka – our child) and someone who has spent the last two years trying to adopt I’m horribly qualified in this area.
So – if you want good support and kind advice go to fertilityfriends.co.uk not the Observor (it’s one step up from Jeremy Kyle – writing to a newspaper agony aunt, however posh she is.)
Secondly – it’s never easy ttc (trying to conceive) and actually many many couples live with a peculiar sort of sadness when they decide not to intervene in their journey/failure. This happens more than we would like to think, since there is a crazy idea now that if you want a baby you can ‘just do ivf’ – like it always works. It doesn’t, it’s costs thousands a go, and it ruins relationships. The saddest thing I’ve ever read is the thread on ff for women whose relationship has broken down thru fertility treatment.
If I thought IVF was hard, adoption is worse – you are at the mercy of politics, skin colour, policymakers, local jobsworths and the heat-breaking fact that most children these days are in care because they have ‘issues’. Something that makes the notion of adult baggage look like a breeze.
Lastly – when we were undergoing treatment I found hearing other ‘great news’ really really hard. I couldn’t have known that would happen, and it meant some people were understanding and some were just horribly insensitive. But none of it was deliberate altho I didn’t understand that at the time.
Sorry – went on a bit here!
x