I eventually felt so alone and isolated that I sought therapy several years ago. That did indeed help as it was clearly such a relief to have someone really HEAR what I was saying. Listen to me describe my pain unabashedly. To reflect back to me what they had heard, and to acknowledge and validate my very real pain. That therapist recently retired, and that made me very sad. What if I have a relapse of depression and feelings of deep isolation and I have nowhere to turn?
Several months ago, a very good friend of mine was staying at my house with her adorable and sweet daughter. I was very excited to have house guests and to entertain a young person. Many (not all) of my wounds have healed. I can walk through life now with a thicker skin and a different perspective. But infertility has completely changed who I am fundamentally. I know that now. As I spoke with my long-time friend in my kitchen, we started to talk about difficult things that we had undergone in our lives. How we lost loved ones. The ensuing pain. The feelings of loss. I started to cry as I mentioned my painful path with infertility. My friend asked me questions and I was relieved to be asked, and to finally tell someone I loved the struggles I had undergone. As she asked me why I didn’t adopt, she kept interrupting my answers. Finally, she said rather loudly in my home within earshot of her child…
“Cathy, I don’t want to hear about your infertility ANYMORE!”
… silence ensued. My jaw dropped. I sunk back in my chair, and thought, “of course. NO ONE wants to talk about infertility… not willingly anyway.”
I took a deep breath. Looked my friend in the eye, and tried to explain the concept of empathy. I reminded her that good friends are there for each other when the chips are down. How could she ever support me, how could we ever feel close again, if she was unwillingly to ever understand my pain? She said that she would never understand. There is certainly some truth to that. But we ALL understand feelings of loss. We ALL understand that life is not all roses and butterflies sometimes. We ALL can be a little more loving and compassionate to each other, can’t we? I believe we can.
I listened to an audiobook this weekend. In it, the author said:
Listening is an act of love.
Amen to that! My dear readers, if you feel you have nowhere to turn, and no one to talk to as you traverse your own personal journey of family creation, please remember that you are not alone. There are online support groups such as Resolve, there are blogs such as this one or one of my favorites, “Silent Sorority” as well as a book of the same name. There are so many places to turn, even when you think you are isolated and alone. I know that you might not feel like it’s going to be OK right now, and that’s normal and fine that you may feel that way. Many of us know that feeling. My friends, please take care of yourselves and your hearts anyway that you can. Be kind and forgiving to yourselves. You can find a world of love and support if you look.
Please join me next week to hear more about my personal journey down the infertility path. I look forward to speaking with you. And I wish you the best on your journey.
Warm regards,
Cathy