Posts from — October 2009

I am slowly emerging back into the world of the living, by which I mean that I am contemplating taking a shower and eating something more than a banana.  Since I don’t have the brain power to discuss the dafookness of TLC’s My Monkey Baby, I am instead turning this over to a discussion on commenting in honour of IComLeavWe.

I have often bitched that the almighty comment gets short shrift.  Posts win awards.  Posts get Kirtsy’d.  Posts are talked about and dissected and read aloud.  Posts get projects named after them and inspire Writer’s Block and make some sites millions of dollars (millions and billions and trillions of doll-ahs!).

But what does the comment get?

People complain that they don’t get enough comments or they wish they could have more comments or that they can’t think of anything to write in the comment section.  People delete comments.  We ball them up like garbage and toss them out sometimes.  And people use the beautiful comment box to spew hatred or shit on someone’s day or write about a! great! new! penis! enhancement! tool! you! should! know! about!

We took back the comment with IComLeavWe, and that’s a good first step.  But I think we need to write and think and speak about comment leaving much in the same way we write and think and speak about blog post construction.  Obviously I think that or I would write so fucking often about it (I know, some of you are rolling your eyes and saying, “great, Mel talks about commenting again.  I wish she’d get back to anagrams or return to vomiting up breakfast.”).

Where were we?

I think there are six main areas that need discussion and these correlate to the chief harbingers of questions: who, what, where, when, why, how?

I’m going to talk about the first three (who, what, where) in this post, and the last three (when, why, how) in the next post.  These are my thoughts on the topic, and I’d love to hear yours too (hey!  In the comment section!) because it’s a topic that deserves its own discussion.  Really.

Who

Some people are squeamish about commenting on a site if they haven’t commented before.  Or jumping into a discussion on adoption if they’re doing IVF.  Or comforting someone after a loss if the commenter has children.  And all these things are thoughtful ideas, but the flip side is that a lot of good thoughts then go unsaid (probably some terrible thoughts also go unsaid though).

The reality is that if people have a comment box open, they are welcoming feedback or support or accolades.  Comment boxes are easy to close–even on a post by post basis.  I do think it’s a good idea to hang back for a post or two if you don’t know the blog at all and get a sense of the author and his/her story before doling out advice or opinions.  But insofar as simply leaving a congratulations or an “I’m sorry”–those I don’t think require a special understanding of the author.

It’s thoughtful to try to save the other person hurt feelings from seeing support come from someone who is very much the polar opposite of the situation at hand (a parent comforting someone going through pregnancy loss, a newlywed comforting a widower, etc), but the answer is not to ignore the other person.  They just spilled their heart on the screen; it seems cruel to just click away.  The answer is to be simple, take the focus off of you (you don’t have to link to your blog with some commenting systems), and know that while few want to hear criticism from someone outside (or inside) the community when they’re processing something difficult, most would not be angry to receive unconditional support when it is worded simply and thoughtfully.  And those who don’t want comments at all tend to close their comment box on a post.

But those are my views, and they’re based in a belief that good thoughts often come from places where we least expect them.  Another Iffer is probably a great person to offer comfort after a failed cycle.  But there are also people outside the community who simply have empathy.  And some of the best advice I ever received and used to get through infertility had nothing to do with my reproductive organs.  I simply took dating advice or job advice and applied it to a different situation.

Everyone needs to have a first time commenting on a new blog and if we all hold back and wait for another person to comment first, we’ll never start the conversation.

What

What is pretty straightforward: it’s the definition of a comment.  I’d define the comment as a verbal hug.  A written head-nod.  Comments can be critical, when the criticism is used to address a point with the purpose of coming to new understanding.  In other words, just as you’d point out something in a person’s line of reasoning if you were having a conversation with them, you’d do so in the comment box.

What comments are not: bait to reel someone towards a different space, real estate on another person’s blog to talk about the commenter, or a hate speech receptacle (whether it is directed at the author or a larger group of people).

Where

Er…usually at the bottom of the post.  Sometimes at the top of the post.  A lack of comment box means that the writer probably doesn’t want to hear from other people.

Okay, now discuss.  Remember, I’m talking about commenting used right–not commenting used wrong.

Since where is pretty self-evident, start with what does commenting mean to you?  What are your thoughts on new commenters (if they do so thoughtfully) especially those outside your experience (for instance, someone commenting on an adoption post though they’re doing IUIs)?  What about long-time commenters leaving simple comfort on a post when their experience is far outside your own (in other words, a person with children leaving a comment on a IVF cancellation post)?  Do you ever close your comment box on a post?  Do you feel comfortable commenting on a new blog and what makes you feel like a comment is welcome vs. strangers keep out?

I don’t think we will come to a consensus, nor do I think that one philosophy should trump others.  But this is food for thought for how you guide commenting on your own blog in the future.  Consider posting what you need insofar as comments at the bottom of the post (“I’d love comfort, but no advice, please”) or closing comments from time to time.  I try to always listen to the wants of others (though I can’t help it if I’ve missed the request).  If a person says they hate seeing comments from people with kids, I don’t comment over there.  If they mention how much comments mean to them, I do my hardest to make sure that I leave one from time to time.

Of course, we are all cramped for time so this is not to make you feel guilty for not leaving more comments (seriously, I need to work on this too), but to talk about using the comment box better.

As for myself, I welcome new commenters and old commenters–both inside and outside my personal experience–because it’s through that back-and-forth that I always learn something new, see my own words in a different light, or gain insight into the way I’m seeing the world.  The advice I’ve gotten from the comment box is invaluable–better than any backyard fence.  The hurt I’ve also gotten from the comment box is fodder for a different post because this is where I want to talk about what we do right–how we use commenting to create an ongoing conversation.

We have become immobilized zombies.  I am writing this Thursday night.  Today we spent 45 minutes collectively contemplating a square foot of carpet.  We all just sat together staring at it.  Then we moved upstairs and collapsed into bed and watched three hours of Nascar.  We’ve never watched even three minutes of Nascar in the past.  This is what H1N1 does to you.

I wrote that Show and Tell post days ago, hence why it is coherent.  I’m writing this post in the haze of swine flu.  At first we thought we had a run-of-the-mill cold.  Because the beginning of swine flu feels a lot like the beginning of any flu.  It’s just the middle and ending that are so completely different.

I’ll say two things about it: it is terrible and the media has made it out to be something more scary than what it is.  If you don’t have an underlying medical condition, it is just like a very long, very intense flu.  I am writing this on one of the peaks–because it sort of goes in peaks and valleys.  You’ll be throwing up and shaking and then ten minutes later, feel somewhat fine.  And then go back to coughing and shivering an hour later.  So it feels like every peak is a little trick and I’m not sure when this is ever going to be over.

My two favourite gems that we’ve heard this week are “you’re so lucky to have gotten it at the same time” (um…are you not considering the fact that there is now no one capable to taking care of anyone else in this house at this moment?) and “at least you don’t have to worry about finding the H1N1 vaccine” (um…no…because we freakin’ have the disease that the vaccine was supposed to keep us from getting).

All of us have experienced it differently.  None of us are hungry and we all have fluctuating fevers and coughing.  But the Wolvog has become quiet and dazed.  All he wants to do is sleep or lie on his side and stare at the wall or fall asleep watching Nascar.  Josh has recovered the fastest, having it hard and fast in two days and then recovering enough to take care of everyone else.  The ChickieNob has been vomiting a lot but she is incredibly cheerful.  As in, she vomits up bile and then does a little ballet a few minutes later.

We were watching Nascar and she lazily called out, “I think the red car will win.  No, the yellow car.”  There was a pause, and then she shot up in bed and said, “oh my gosh!  Any car could win!”

And my silent thought was: “and any car could lose.”  I’ve googled it for a bit and haven’t been able to find anyone else writing about this symptom, so if you have googled H1N1 and depression and landed here, I’m glad I was honest about this so you know that you’re not alone (unless no one googles this and lands here and I really am alone).

This flu has made me feel incredibly sad.  Overwhelmingly sad.  And detached and anxious.  I stayed up all night on Wednesday with my mind racing through terrible ideas.  I am impatient and frustrated.  Some of it is tied to the exhaustion, but I have been exhausted before without this crushing sadness.  It’s not tied to anything.  It’s not like I’m worried about the twins because I think they’ll be fine in a few days.  I’m missing stuff and I’m down about that, but this is different.  I can’t explain it.  And I can feel it lifting a bit tonight as the flu lifts a bit, which makes me think that this is tied to the flu.

So I am not in Marlton, NJ tonight for the reading because I doubt anyone wants to be around me.

Thank you to my mummy for bringing us food and supplies.  I’m not sure what we would do without my parents.

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The clue for Blogger Bingo today: 10/23–a post that contains a photo of the blogger from any time (posted 8:59 a.m.)

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I don’t have the brain power to write long descriptions tonight, but I didn’t want to not put these out there.  I promise you, these posts are very good.  I read them during the week and I thought about them for a while after I closed them.  And you will not regret it (hopefully) if you click over to read them.

A+B, Waiting For C has a post about anonymity on the Internet.

Last American Girl Standing asks how did you feel going into your first IVF cycle and tells you how she feels.

The Baby Chase has a post about being pregnant after infertility.

And The Sun’ll Come Out Tomorrow, I Hope has a post about how she is pulling away from a friend.

I am going to go lie on the sofa and stare at the wall.  I will be back when I am in a better mood and I can talk with people without snapping.

Show and Tell is wasted on elementary schoolers. Join several dozen bloggers weekly to show off an item, tell a story, and get the attention of the class. In other words, this is Show and Tell 2.0.

Everyone is welcome to join, even if you have never posted before and just found out about Show and Tell for the first time today. So yank out a photo of the worst bridesmaid’s dress you ever wore and tell us the story; show off the homemade soup you cooked last night; or tell us all about the scarf you made for your first knitting project. Details on how to participate are located at the bottom of this post.

Let’s begin.

Dreaming of Quiet Places posted the start of her hamsa collection last week which reminded me to take a picture of the one that hangs over our bed (which actually hangs over our ketubah, which hangs over our bed).

I’m probably going to fail miserably at the retelling of this because it was told to me on a car ride from Tel Aviv to Isfiya where I had to pee very badly.  But the Druze place an eye in the center of the hamsa to not only ward off evil (get it?  The eye sees it before it can harm you and zap!), and the hamsa is blue because blue in the Druze religion is the colour that symbolizes potential.  Hamsas have special meaning in the Druze religion because there are five colours important to their beliefs and they correspond to the fingers of the hand.

I think.

Don’t quote me on any of this.  All I know is that we have superstitiously sewn blue Druze glass eyes into the hems of clothing to protect the wearer (I pinned it in my bridal gown) and hung one over our bed.  And I love sleeping under it every night.

What are you showing today?

Click here or scroll down to the bottom of this post if this is your first time joining along (Important: link to the permalink for the post, not the main url for your blog and use your blog’s name, not your name. Links not going to a Show and Tell post will be deleted). The list is open from now until late Friday night and a new one is posted every week.

Fluish

Bluish

Cleaning up spewish.

All four Fords down.

Three things I want to clear up from the last post:

Actually–I think I need to state this point again in case it was missed: I want awareness, I want remembrance, but I don’t want to stop there.  I want action too.

I used October 15th as an example of an awareness/remembrance day in the same way I used breast cancer awareness month–simply as another example of a place where the lack of clear purpose means that the full impact of the day/month/event isn’t realized.  October 15th has the potential to be a great rallying cry of a day for the loss community, but it hasn’t found that voice yet collectively even though some individuals use that day to educate though the formal event for that day is the candle lighting.

It doesn’t really work as an awareness day–a candle lit in a house in the evening doesn’t invite others to learn more about loss.  It does work well as a remembrance day, and I think advocates would do well to reinforce the idea of remembrance instead of mixing it up with awareness.  It is a great, community building, comforting project.

I wouldn’t want to expand the meaning of October 15th to include infertility and honestly, I wouldn’t want to establish an awareness day for infertility at all.  We sort of have one that moved from the fall to the spring last year.  I think awareness days are great if they’re a first step to something else.  Even Resolve has recognized that it’s better to use that energy to establish action (such as Advocacy Day) rather than use that energy to establish awareness.  Resolve has sort of held off on huge events during awareness week and instead uses Advocacy Day as its big rallying point.

So just to reiterate–October 15th is a loss remembrance/awareness day.  And loss is tied to infertility in some cases because pregnancy loss is part of the textbook definition of infertility (three losses or trying for one year without a pregnancy).  Some people come to their diagnosis of infertility via loss.  Some infertile men and women also experience loss.  And some men and women experience loss, but not infertility.

Which brings us to the second thing: people mentioned the good points about breast cancer awareness month and while no one can say that remembering to do a self-breast exam or being more aware of risks is a bad thing, neither of these things directly benefit those experiencing breast cancer.

Do you see what I mean about the problem inherent in this awareness month?  It becomes all about me rather than about them.  I learn something that helps myself.  But how do people with breast cancer benefit from that?  I would rather have a day where I receive a message of not how I can protect myself with early detection, but how I can be a good friend to someone experiencing breast cancer.  I obviously know people who have the disease–help me know what to do.  What are good questions to ask?  What aren’t?  What are good tasks to do that could potentially help?  What are good intentioned tasks that might actually hurt?  Are there foods that are better or worse to eat?  Are there times when visitors would be more of a hindrance than a help?  And tell me why so I understand and can make other choices from that information.

It’s not a one-size-fits-all sort of thing so each person will have their own answers, but it can help get a conversation started between those who are uncomfortably clinging to the sidelines because there is just so much we don’t know and awareness months aren’t helping us learn.

Which brings us to the last part: When I stated that I hope there’s more action by next October, I didn’t mean specifically on October 15th.  I meant that I hope we’re not this stagnant a year from now.  Less talking and more doing.  My ideal would be “doing” moving in three directions: making family building possible, educating others, and making life better for those experiencing infertility.

And I’m firmly against starting new things when there are so many balls already rolling that could use energy behind them to make them successful.  So for the first, get behind Resolve and go to their take action page.  And then…er…take action.  They’ve already done the hard work of helping keep efforts focused on the important areas.  Don’t just talk about how you wish you had mandated coverage–be part of the movement that is working to get and maintain mandated coverage.

If H.R. 213 doesn’t pass, the adoption tax credit will drop on December 31, 2010.  Get involved in ensuring that adoption remains a financial feasible option.  People who are involved in adoption activism, what are other things people can do to put ideas into action?

Write letters, ask your local Resolve chapter how you can help with an organized effort aimed at your local congressperson, make phone calls.  Wait, wait, you got that part about not starting new things and splintering our efforts?  Get behind established organizations that have been doing work to ensure that your voice is heard.  And also, you have a blog–use it to spread awareness.

Those are all things specific to infertility (and in the case of H.R. 213, adoption).  In speaking specifically to the loss community, there is action to take too: support organizations that do active work to help individuals such as Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.  There have been ongoing efforts in states to create what are called “stillbirth bills” which are establishing certificates of birth resulting in a stillbirth.  You are better equipped to speak to what must be done; this is just a starting point from what I’ve learned from you about late term loss, stillbirth, and neonatal death.

In terms of the second part–education–get good writing out there to counterbalance the media coverage of infertility.  Get stories in local newspapers, send letters to the editor, pitch articles to magazines.  This is about establishing facts concerning the emotional, physical, and financial realities of infertility.  If people learn something that helps them too, all the better.

Lastly, in making life better for those experiencing infertility–well, I wish more people would work to understand infertility and gracefully allow those experiencing infertility to help themselves without guilt.  Especially as the holiday season approaches, which brings up so many emotional responses to external stimuli.

But I don’t expect a lot in this area, even though I want this very badly.  If we haven’t taken breast cancer awareness further than raising money for research or learning about early detection, I can’t expect infertility awareness to extend to people asking if they can bring over a meal during a transfer day or extend permission to skip a difficult baby shower.  And this is a reminder that I need to do better myself in asking friends with other health concerns how I can best support them.

I still wear my pomegranate string, but for me, this symbol has always been internal to our community.  A nod to others who recognize the symbol to open a conversation, exchange information, and provide support.  The symbol was chosen because it was inexpensive and readily available.  It could be mailed cheaply to others who don’t have access to craft supplies.  It was discreet and didn’t invite a lot of conversation.  I’ve worn mine for over three years–I have only had one person approach me about it.  Which is fine–it has done its job.

Do I wish we could take it to something less discreet–sure, but I also know that most people do not want to talk incessantly about infertility because it is a disease that not only affects themselves, but it affects their future child.  And while some people are comfortable putting information out there about themselves (I’m infertile), they’re not comfortable putting information about their child (he’s adopted or she’s a DI-child).  I am, and maybe you are, but not everyone is.  And beyond that, some people plain don’t want to talk about their reproductive organs.

Oh–wait–last thing.  I do have a fourth thing.  I am inclusive.  Not all organizations or people are.  Some people choose to only focus on biological infertility instead of also including situational infertility.  Some word things so you know they’re only talking about straight, married couples.  Some keep a very narrow definition of infertility.  I don’t.  I don’t think it’s healthy to exclude people (I think both people get hurt with exclusion) nor do I see the point when more can be gained by strength in numbers and strength via understanding.  I will support the hell out of those who have a different journey from my own in the hopes that they will also support me.