Remembering
I finally got around to watching the Kellie Coffey video everyone's been talking about. I pretty much agree with everything Jody had to say, and the commenters too--the song itself is nothing special, and the lyrics are totally banal. The abortion/adoption bit in the first verses, along with the "something she would regret" reference, set my teeth on edge right away. And speaking of whiteness, Jody, did you notice that the only non-white people in the whole video were the interracial (black man/Asian woman) couple--like, heaven forbid they show either of them paired with a white person!
And yet.
I cried. I totally cried. It was the signs that did it--button-pushing, yes, but such a simple, powerful visual (if you ignore all the pregnant teenager/abortion stats in the beginning and the "gave up my career"). They made all the pain and heartache and frustration of infertility--feelings I haven't felt in a long time--come flooding back.
I have to confess that infertility is not a place I live anymore. Often, I am simply too caught up in the day-to-day of caring for an infant while working full-time to dwell on what it took to get here, other than, nearly every day, snuggling Bat Girl close and being thankful to have her--but I'd like to think that I'd feel the same way even if I'd gotten pregnant instantly.
The IF blog community has been so important to me over the past 3 1/2 years, and I still try to keep up with everyone--but looking at my blogroll, I realize that nearly everyone on it is now either a mother or is pregnant (which is an amazing and heartwarming thing). I would like to add some new TTC bloggers to my feeds and continue to give back some of the incredible support I have gotten over the years, but since people who are still TTC are, for obvious reasons, not likely to be hanging around commenting on my riveting posts about baby poop, nor on the new-mom-after-IF blogs I frequent, I don't often come across new bloggers. I love everything that Mel is doing to bring our community together, but I just don't have the time to click through her long (amazing! so well-curated!) list of blogs, reading and discovering, the way I used to do with Julie's big list.
And, to be brutally honest, even when I do click through to a new blog, it's sometimes hard for me to relate. I am not swimming in that bitterness anymore. I do still sometimes get angry when I see pregnant women, but more often than not it's not because they are pregnant, but because they are out walking the streets enjoying life while pregnant, something I never got to do. But the wrenching disappointment of the BFN, the canceled cycle--I understand it, but I don't feel it the way I used to. I still consider myself infertile, but let's face it--I've got the prize. I have what I wanted for so long, and so for the most part, the wounds of infertility have healed.
But watching the video made all those feelings rush back. And I hope that I never completely forget what it was like, no matter how healed, how whole, I am.
And yet.
I cried. I totally cried. It was the signs that did it--button-pushing, yes, but such a simple, powerful visual (if you ignore all the pregnant teenager/abortion stats in the beginning and the "gave up my career"). They made all the pain and heartache and frustration of infertility--feelings I haven't felt in a long time--come flooding back.
I have to confess that infertility is not a place I live anymore. Often, I am simply too caught up in the day-to-day of caring for an infant while working full-time to dwell on what it took to get here, other than, nearly every day, snuggling Bat Girl close and being thankful to have her--but I'd like to think that I'd feel the same way even if I'd gotten pregnant instantly.
The IF blog community has been so important to me over the past 3 1/2 years, and I still try to keep up with everyone--but looking at my blogroll, I realize that nearly everyone on it is now either a mother or is pregnant (which is an amazing and heartwarming thing). I would like to add some new TTC bloggers to my feeds and continue to give back some of the incredible support I have gotten over the years, but since people who are still TTC are, for obvious reasons, not likely to be hanging around commenting on my riveting posts about baby poop, nor on the new-mom-after-IF blogs I frequent, I don't often come across new bloggers. I love everything that Mel is doing to bring our community together, but I just don't have the time to click through her long (amazing! so well-curated!) list of blogs, reading and discovering, the way I used to do with Julie's big list.
And, to be brutally honest, even when I do click through to a new blog, it's sometimes hard for me to relate. I am not swimming in that bitterness anymore. I do still sometimes get angry when I see pregnant women, but more often than not it's not because they are pregnant, but because they are out walking the streets enjoying life while pregnant, something I never got to do. But the wrenching disappointment of the BFN, the canceled cycle--I understand it, but I don't feel it the way I used to. I still consider myself infertile, but let's face it--I've got the prize. I have what I wanted for so long, and so for the most part, the wounds of infertility have healed.
But watching the video made all those feelings rush back. And I hope that I never completely forget what it was like, no matter how healed, how whole, I am.
posted by electriclady at 9:28 PM
6 Comments:
Thank you so much for the encouraging words on my blog. Your story in particular is what I think to when I get discouraged. It gives me hope because you had success with PCOS and a UU. Please feel free to add my blog to your blogroll.
I loved your most recent post. I can't imagine a day where the pain of infertility isn't consuming my every thought. It's so refreshing to think that one day infertility won't be something I deal with on a daily basis anymore -- that you do get past it.
Two questions: I am will be doing my first all injectibles cycle on Follistim next month. Did your doctors seem hopeful that would give you a good shot? Did you ever ovulate on your own on your good side prior to your successful Follistim cycle?
Take care,
Becca
Yeah, I did notice that -- gotta keep the racial mixing contained, apparently. Ugh.
For me, the only thing that still lingers is the weirdness of seeing women walking around, visibly pregnant. I spent all my days after 20 weeks in bed, on my side, and I never had that awareness of my belly, or the public acknowledgment of it, that I'd wanted for so long. I still miss that, especially when someone I know is pregnant and glowing and public.
The other thing that shocked me a little is that it's been a long time since I looked at my kids and recognized them as the long-pursued miracles they are. I've fallen into taking their existence for granted, which I never would have expected back when I was TTC.
I guess the pain never really goes away. We know we want another child-but the thought of going thru all that again is a little overwhelming right now. But I know that I will venture down that path again.
Thanks so much for answering my questions.
I have ovulated on my good side a half dozen times or so in the time we've been trying, so it scares me as to why it hasn't happened yet -- like if it's an odds thing or I'm just never going to get pregnant. Who knows?!
Becca
Perfectly put. I sort of think of it like my knee injury which isn't really on my radar until it rains. And then the pain pokes up and I think, "damn...I really hurt my knee all those years ago." It may not be your day-to-day, but it's part of who you are.
It's nice to hear that maybe one day, we'll all feel this way. Cuz sometimes I worry I'll never get past it. I know I don't ever want to forget it, but I would like to have the wounds heal as you said so eloquently.
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