Category — Barren Advice

This is the twentieth installment of Barren Advice. You can ask questions that are fertility or non-fertility related.

Barren Advice is posted each Tuesday-ish. If you have your own question for Barren Advice, click here to learn how to submit. Please weigh in with your own thoughts in the comment section and indicate which question you’re addressing if there are multiple questions in the post.

Dear Mel:

How do you two stay connected amid parenting?

–Anonymous

Lots of sex.

There’s also this other thing we do that anyone can try regardless of how much their ass is dragging at the end of the day or how covered they are in spit-up or how unsexual they are feeling after an afternoon of parent-teacher conferences about behaviour.

Live like the Amish.

I don’t mean turn off the computer or television or strike up the kerosene lamps. What we’ve done is borrow the impulse that drives Amish philosophy. The Amish are against technology that splinters populations. Without cars, a family can’t move far apart from one another and not see each other. Ipods and cell phones keep someone from striking up a conversation with you. Electric lights and central heating mean that people can split up into different rooms in the house.

The point is to keep people physically together and leave lines of communication open in case conversation occurs. Therefore, from the time Josh comes home until we go to bed, we’re usually (with few exceptions) in the same room of the house. We’re not necessarily doing the exact same thing, but the option is always there to chat back and forth. We’ll read together on the sofa or watch a movie together. Sometimes I’ll be on the computer and he’ll be reading a book or I’ll be writing letters and he’ll be watching television.

The point is not to move together like Tweedledee and Tweedledum, but to be physically close so that anything can happen. Including that sex I mentioned in the first place.

No really, the beauty of a blog advice column is that you get to weigh in with your two cents too. Let the questioner know if you support the advice, add to the response, or dispute it completely.

Leave a comment in the reaction box below–only keep in mind that conflicting advice is embraced and rudeness is not. Want to ask your own question? Click here to see what you need to send in order to be included in a future Tuesday’s installment of Barren Advice.

This is the nineteenth installment of Barren Advice. You can ask questions that are fertility or non-fertility related.

Barren Advice is posted each Tuesday-ish. If you have your own question for Barren Advice, click here to learn how to submit. Please weigh in with your own thoughts in the comment section and indicate which question you’re addressing if there are multiple questions in the post.

Dear Mel:

I’ve got a strong hunch that my best friend and coworker is pregnant. I know I should be happy for her but I am not. Of course I want her to have a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby. Of course I know that she deserves to be pregnant whether or not she’s had to suffer through agonizing monthly disappointments and painful and expensive procedures. Of course I wouldn’t wish infertility on my worst enemy but I still find it hard not to be a little jealous of people who get pregnant right away – especially when they did it the fun way and it didn’t cost them a dime. Am I normal to feel this way?

When I read about similar situations it seems like everybody makes a point of saying that they are happy for their friends. Do you think they really mean it or are they just trying their best to convince themselves? I’m only one year into my infertility nightmare – is being happy for pregnant friends a point of arrival that I can look forward to later? Am I just a selfish and petty person? I’m hoping its a point of arrival because I really DO want to be happy for my friend. If she is pregnant, she deserves a friend who is genuinely happy for her and who will enjoy talking about her pregnancy. I know that I can’t do that right now and I don’t want to try to fake it. Its already too hard to think about seeing her get bigger and bigger every day at work for nine more months. Can I expect her to understand this and how do I tell her in a way that won’t hurt her feelings?

—Lucie B.

Think about it this way: it is possible for you to have sunny weather and for your friend to be in the same country and be in the middle of a huge storm. Her weather doesn’t really affect your weather. Your sky is still sunny. You may appreciate your sunny day a bit more knowing that it’s raining elsewhere. You may spend time not appreciating your sunny day because you’re worried about a weather change. But, regardless of how you react to your weather, what is happening over someone else’s house does not change what is happening over your house.

You are, by the way, currently in the middle of a downpour.

When you’re in sunny weather, you can hear about someone else’s rain and while it concerns you, your reality is actually quite good. A light breeze. Warm sun. Flowers blooming. It’s very different when you’re in shitty weather. You’re cold and wet and miserable. You have to consider so many things just to move from Point A to Point B. You can’t forget weather because it’s always there–affecting everything you do and everything you can’t do.

Now extend this analogy to infertility and pregnancy. It’s very easy to be sympathetic to someone who has had a failed cycle when you are rubbing your own baby bump. You can give them a hug and wish them well and cluck at their situation. And then, you can go back to your happy, sunny world. It is much harder to move in the other direction: to stand in the figurative rain with your empty womb and jump for glee over someone else’s good news. Can it be done? Sure. But there are also people who don’t mind the rain and run around outside in the middle of a downpour happily. And then there are the rest of us who carry around a soggy umbrella. So it’s important to remember that there are different types of people who are capable of very different reactions.

Do I think people truly are happy for their friends? Sure–I can be happy that they have sun and aren’t struck in this storm while still feeling rather miserable for myself. My happiness for them doesn’t occupy my whole world–it’s simply part of my whole. I am cognizant of their happiness and I acknowledge it and even jump around with glee at their house for a bit. But then I have to return to my own rainy world and I soon forget about their happiness while I try to navigate my own weather.

I am the sort who doesn’t like the rain; who doesn’t see the silver lining and remind myself that rain makes the flowers grow. I’m the sort who wants to get out of the rain and spend the afternoon mapping a plan to move to sunnier climes. And I have to be true to who I am while also balancing out the type of friend I want to be. I always acknowledge the other person’s happiness and sunny weather (especially if they return the favour by acknowledging my rain). But it would be out of character to gaily announce that I love the rain because it gives me a chance to wear my cool rainboots. And it sounds like you need to feel what you’re going to feel: a little jealousy; a little “why not me?”; and a little happiness that your friend has managed to find a sunny space.

How to tell her? I would recommend by not telling her. You can make it about you without telling her that you’re making it about you. Discreetly take the space you need, bow out of events you can’t bear to attend, and treat your friend the way you would want to be treated if the situation were reversed. It will be emotionally painful to stare at a dry person bathed in sun while you are beside her with your soggy umbrella. So give yourself the space and permission to cry and set some firm boundaries in your mind (eg. “I can go to her shower, but I sure as hell can’t throw it).

I hope your weather changes soon–it almost always does unless you live in Seattle or San Diego.

No really, the beauty of a blog advice column is that you get to weigh in with your two cents too. Let the questioner know if you support the advice, add to the response, or dispute it completely.

Leave a comment in the reaction box below–only keep in mind that conflicting advice is embraced and rudeness is not. Want to ask your own question? Click here to see what you need to send in order to be included in a future Tuesday’s installment of Barren Advice.

This is the eighteenth installment of Barren Advice. You can ask questions that are fertility or non-fertility related.

Barren Advice is posted each Tuesday-ish. If you have your own question for Barren Advice, click here to learn how to submit. Please weigh in with your own thoughts in the comment section and indicate which question you’re addressing if there are multiple questions in the post.

Dear Mel:

I have a friend going through IVF right now, she’s done one cycle without success and is probably going to do it again. She told everyone we knew that she was doing it, and I heard through the grapevine that it didn’t take. My heart fell for her. I know she was devastated. I didn’t want to call her that weekend and be another person saying “I’m so sorry…” When she called me earlier this week I didn’t know what to say to her. What’s the ‘etiquette’ in a situation like this? I felt like a schmuck.

–Amy

I know the instinct is to not say anything but silence is ten times worse than hearing one more “I’m sorry.” While it depends on the person and there are certainly people who would rather not have anyone bring up failed cycles (and have a lot of fear that the words come from pity rather than a desire to support), many more would rather have the acknowledgment and empathy. Talking about it will not make them think about something they’ve forgotten about; regardless of whether or not they’re bringing it up, they are most certainly thinking about it. Those grieving don’t forget to grieve.

There are ways to offer support that help more than others. Calling them and asking for a play-by-play of the low-beta phone call isn’t helpful. Getting a vibe that they don’t want to talk about it because they’re giving you single-word answers and still picking at the subject isn’t helpful. Offering sympathetic words about the cycle while you’re in the middle of a large group of people isn’t helpful.

But sending a short email that they can open and read when they are ready can go a long way. Showing up on their doorstep with a pint of ice cream if you’re a good friend says that you recognize the emotional pain that goes with a failed cycle. Send a card, make a phone call, leave a message on their answering machine, or take them out for drinks to commiserate.

The point is that silence is usually equated with something shameful and a failed cycle is not shameful–it’s sad. In the same vein, the loss of a child is not shameful and a broken adoption match is not shameful. These are all sad events that need to be spoken about lest the person feel like a pariah rather than a member of a community who is undergoing a type of loss.

There was a Twilight Zone episode where the criminals were marked with a scar on their forehead and people in society knew never to speak to them or interact with them. The criminal scoffed at this punishment at first and thought life would go on as usual. He would still get to go to restaurants, see movies, relax in his home. But what he didn’t count on is how much we need human contact. How much we need hugs and kind words and empathy.

By the end of the episode, he’s running through the streets, grabbing people by their jacket lapels and screaming at them to look at him. And that’s how people sometimes feel when they are undergoing a loss (whether it is a failed cycle, divorce, death of a spouse or child, etc). They are obviously there–still part of society–but suddenly, people are avoiding them. Or interacting with them while uncomfortably avoiding this huge topic in their life. It makes you want to grab someone by the lapels and shake them until they address the elephant in the room.

Next time she calls, admit that you know that her cycle failed and how sorry you are. Ask if you can make her dinner the next time she cycles or if you can take her out for drinks so she can vent. Let her know that your shoulder is a safe shoulder to cry on and you won’t jerk it away no matter how uncomfortable it can be to see another person in emotional pain.

No really, the beauty of a blog advice column is that you get to weigh in with your two cents too. Let the questioner know if you support the advice, add to the response, or dispute it completely.

Leave a comment in the reaction box below–only keep in mind that conflicting advice is embraced and rudeness is not. Want to ask your own question? Click here to see what you need to send in order to be included in a future Tuesday’s installment of Barren Advice.

This is the seventeenth installment of Barren Advice. You can ask questions that are fertility or non-fertility related.

Barren Advice is posted each Tuesday-ish. If you have your own question for Barren Advice, click here to learn how to submit. Please weigh in with your own thoughts in the comment section and indicate which question you’re addressing if there are multiple questions in the post.

Dear Mel:

How do I get started in the online infertility community? I’m finding that my friends and family just don’t seem to get what I’m going through no matter how hard they try and the local support group doesn’t meet again until after the holidays. Reading your blog and others like it has really kept me afloat over the last few weeks. How do I make “blog friends” and give/receive support? Should I just start leaving comments and telling people how much better they’ve made me feel? I really don’t know the first thing about blog etiquette and I don’t want to offend anyone.

—Lucie B.

This is one of those answers that spans from “how do you get started” to “how do you build traffic”–and my thoughts reveal my own personal philosophy of blogging. Hit a different blog writer and you’ll probably get a different path for building readership. The point is that there is no wrong way to blog…

Well…yes…actually there is. But we’ll get to that in a moment.

Let’s start at the beginning. It is entirely possible to participate in the community sans blog, but it makes it much easier to receive the support you wish to receive with one. You can set up a free blog through Blogger or WordPress (these are the two most popular, though there are other sites you can use too). Think through your needs before you begin so you don’t need to move your blog later from one site to another.

If you want ads you’ll need to use Blogger (or self-host). If you want to password-protect certain entries, you’ll need WordPress. Blogger can make an entire blog invite-only and has many lovely gadgets. WordPress has more flexibility with templates (which isn’t an issue if you know HTML, but is an issue if you don’t want the headache of designing your own site). Think through scenarios such as who you want reading your blog and who you don’t want reading your blog. And then choose a platform that will support the blog you wish to have.

Now that you have a blog, you need to write in it. Some people recommend writing three or four entries before posting the first one and then releasing one at a time to give you a week or so to ease into writing a blog. Personally, I just started with the first post and when I had something to say again, I posted again. The reason for banking a few posts at first is that some people write their first post and then get this deer-in-headlights feeling and don’t know what to say next. Having the posts banked gives you a little time to make sure that you have the desire to keep writing before you send that blog out there into the world.

Before we get to sending your blog into the world, let’s talk about content. Blog gurus always talk about how you need to have great content. But what the hell does that mean? Yes, intellectually I knew that I needed a great set of short stories to get into my MFA program, but how could I judge if they were “great” or not. And if I didn’t get in, did it mean that my stories weren’t “great” or did it mean that there were too many people and too few slots? Was everyone who got in a great writer?

Like my MFA program, you’re going to find a lot of great people who simply aren’t read. And writers who have a huge readership even though they are boring beyond belief. You’ll find people who write the most heartfelt post and receive one comment and others who write “do you like gum?” and receive 657 responses within the first ten minutes. Yes, great blog posts tend to attract readers, but there are also too many great posts out there without comments.

That’s why I say feh to focusing on worrying about great content. You’re too close to your own writing to judge “great” and sometimes the most mundane subject matter can become a great post. When I’m reading, I want to see things that speak to my heart. That connect with me on an emotional level or teach me something new or make me see the world in a different way. I really want to read a blog where the person writes as themselves and not as they think others want to read. One of my favourite blogs often posts menus for the week and arguments with her husband. And while that doesn’t sound like the most fascinating subject matter, it is because you can tell instantly that she is simply laying down her life for the world to see. And that’s what I look for in a blog: truth, emotion, view point.

So write what interests you. If others read it, fantastic. But it will never be a waste of time if it is a record of your world and contains subject matter that interests you. I always compare it to the dating scene. If you go do an activity that you enjoy and you meet someone there, all the better. But at least you have the activity in and of itself. For instance, I’m really not into bars and the nights I went out to meet people at a bar event felt like a huge waste. If I met someone, it was fine. But if I didn’t meet anyone, I felt like I had wasted two hours of my life (and it was deceptive and people got a little confused on the first date when I mentioned that I didn’t like bars and that’s where they met me). On the other hand, I’m much more into cafes and reading. If I went to the cafe, at least I had a great cup of coffee even if I didn’t meet anyone. This is how I feel about blog writing as well. Write what you like: the readership will follow.

Getting comments and having a readership IS part of blogs. If not, you would write your journal at home and keep it to yourself. It’s hard to share your heart with the world and not receive feedback, a head nod, or comfort in return. Here are my thoughts on readership: it is better to have a few dedicated readers than a lot of drive-by readers. Drive-by readers are those who click over once and glance at your blog and click away. Social media sites and links from other blogs bring you a lot of drive-by traffic. Sometimes, if you have content that speaks to them, they stick around. But if not, they simply surf to the next blog out there.

The ones I read religiously are the ones who have built a relationship with me (or vice versa). I subscribe to them in Google Reader and even if I don’t comment on every post, I read every post. The way we built that relationship is I commented on their blog or they commented on mine. Not just once, but many times to let the other person know that they’re reading. Sometimes we email off-blog too and build the friendship that way. Sometimes we even meet face-to-face if we’re going to be visiting each other’s cities.

The point is that I treat the comment
section as I would a cafe table. When I want to make a friend in the face-to-face world, I listen to what they’re saying, ask questions, and make comments on their end of the conversation. I do the same with a blog with few exceptions. I read the post and comment on their thoughts. I ask a question sometimes. I give my opinion if they ask for it (and…um…I sometimes give my opinion when they don’t ask for it). The point is that there is a wrong way to comment and it’s to leave a note that is entirely about you in someone else’s comment box.

What do I mean by this? Well, here’s a sample conversation:

Anne: I had the worst day at work today.
Me: What happened?
Anne: I messed up and got yelled at and I felt like an idiot.
Me: That sucks! I’m so sorry.
Anne: It did. I ended up going out to dinner because I couldn’t handle trying a new recipe after messing up everything at work.
Me: Oh–speaking of restaurants, did you see the new one that opened up by my house? We have to go there some time…

See, there’s a flow. Anne says something and I react to it. And the whole conversation is not solely about Anne, but there is a time to change the topic and there is a time to stay on the same one and let the person finish the vent.

Most comments I see follow this type of give-and-take. The person will acknowledge what is written and give sympathy or congratulations. They may add to the story with something from their world or say what they would have done faced with the same situation. All that is fine. What I’ve also seen is people who leave a comment solely to draw attention to themselves and try to get the person to read their site. For example:

That’s a great story! You should stop by my blog: http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com and see what I’m writing about if you get a chance.

The difference with the comment above is that it’s the equivalent to plopping down across from someone and cheerfully saying, “I really want friends but I don’t want to BE a friend. I mean, I’ll be there for you after you’ve already proven that you’ll be there for me. But let’s establish you supporting me and then we’ll talk what I’ll do for you.”

Which is a little off-putting.

The reality is that there are plenty of blogs that I read and comment on and I don’t think the person reads me. And that’s okay. It’s not always a two-way street. I’m going to keep reading them and supporting them even if I’m not getting that friendship back because I enjoy their blog and I learn from it and it expands my world. But the majority of the time, the way people build readership is to get out there and thoughtfully comment and usually people follow them back to their blog without needing to be led.

The other thing is to get involved in blog projects. There’s NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month)–sign up and you’ll meet other people who are trying it too. There was just the Blog Cross-Pollination Project and next week kicks off the 2008 list for the Creme de la Creme (this is a link to the 2007 one). Every month you can join IComLeavWe (International Comment Leaving Week). There are Perfect Moment Mondays. All sorts of blog projects that get you linked to and therefore read (remember that drive-by traffic? Some of it will stick around if you nurture it with content and returned comments).

Insofar as etiquette: the same rules that guide the face-to-face world also (should) guide the Internet. Anyone can comment on a blog–you don’t need to wait to be invited–but keep the comments apropos of the post. Don’t speak about another blogger or a person in your face-to-face world unless you’re prepared to have them read it. Be kind. Think about what you would want to hear–no one likes to have their feelings negated–and it’s always fine to click away without leaving a comment if you have nothing nice to say.

So get out there and write. But don’t forget to read and comment. And know that it takes time to build readership and to gather that support. But it is well worth the wait and care you need to extend in order to receive it in return.

No really, the beauty of a blog advice column is that you get to weigh in with your two cents too. Let the questioner know if you support the advice, add to the response, or dispute it completely.

Leave a comment in the reaction box below–only keep in mind that conflicting advice is embraced and rudeness is not. Want to ask your own question? Click here to see what you need to send in order to be included in a future Tuesday’s installment of Barren Advice.

This is the sixteenth installment of Barren Advice. You can ask questions that are fertility or non-fertility related.

Barren Advice is posted each Tuesday. If you have your own question for Barren Advice, click here to learn how to submit. Please weigh in with your own thoughts in the comment section and indicate which question you’re addressing if there are multiple questions in the post.

Dear Mel:

It seems my blog has been found by fanatical people who are leaving crappy comments about their agenda. I don’t want to be password protected. I don’t want my blog to be a place where we argue the moral and ethical repercussions of fertility treatments, adoption, or loss. I hate the idea of shutting people off, but that might be where I am. I could just turn on comment moderation, but that means I’ll still see these people’s posts. I feel like I have lost my blog.

What do I do now?

–Anonymous

I am going to go out on a limb here and say that most people know not to shit on my living room floor. I am basing this on the fact that no one over the age of four has ever taken a dump in my living room. Therefore, I find it puzzling that the same people who know better than to go into someone’s home and insult their decorating style or spit out their half-chewed dinner onto their plate or defecate on a stainmaster carpet essentially crap in someone’s comment section.

Because what is a blog other than a virtual home for your thoughts?

There are those who say that when you put your thoughts out there, other people have the right to respond to them. And I agree with that, somewhat. As long as we’re following the same social contract that dictates our face-to-face interactions when we operate in the online world, I think that there is room in the comment section for disagreement, challenge, or compliments. If people behaved online as they do when they’re visiting their grandmother in Albany, we would not find the Internet awash in crappy comments, their sole reason for existence to insult and belittle another human being or to push one’s own agenda.

I approach my comment box with this philosophy: my home is my home and I get to choose what remains here. I don’t allow solicitors to hang up ads in my real house. I throw ads out without looking at them when solicitors slip them through my door knob. Therefore, if someone leaves a comment that is obviously meant to sell a product or site, I delete just as I do actual pieces of paper that make their way to my brick-and-mortar home. Of course, this means that I am determining the commentor’s intent without being able to discuss this with them. But I think I’m generally a good judge of what is an ad and what is a helpful comment that happens to include a reference to a product or site.

I also would not invite someone over who looks like they might defecate on my floor. With a blog, I don’t have the luxury of setting the guest list unless I go invite-only. But I don’t need to leave garbage on the floor. If someone leaves shit, I throw away shit. And shit, of course, is in the eye of the beholder. But if the comment doesn’t actually address what I’m speaking about in the post and attacks me rather than the idea, I consider it garbage.

Some people leave up hateful comments, but I don’t for two reasons. (1) If it made me feel shitty, it may possibly make another person feel shitty so I remove it and (2) those comments give voice to someone else’s agenda. And they are subjecting my readership to their agenda. And frankly, if their words were worth anything, they would have their own readership. Blogs are free; anyone can start one. Therefore, if you want to create a site spouting off your feelings about fertility treatments, adoption, or loss, you may. And you should. You should express yourself and hopefully, you will attract readers who are interested in your writing–either because they agree with the message or they want to engage in dialogue.

But people should not use your blog in order to discuss their agenda. Which is why I recommend the delete button.

By which I don’t mean that you should delete anyone who disagrees with you but you should delete the comments that are attacking, rude, or admonishing. I think of it the same way we approach language in our home. The twins are allowed to say any word they wish as long as they’re not saying it in anger. Which means every curse word is fine in our house and while they only know a few, I will still feel the same way when more colourful terms are introduced to their vocabulary. I am completely fine with hearing the word “bitch” used in a sentence as long as it’s not snarled at another person as an insult.

Which is a long way of saying that I’m fine with any other person’s idea, but it’s how they’re saying it. If they’re putting down my ideas in order to promote theirs, belittling me, insulting my beliefs, or mocking other commentors, they get deleted. But if they are acknowledging my ideas or beliefs or nodding towards other commentors and then stating their own point-of-view, I am fine with anything they want to say. Not just fine–I want to hear it. That is the point of the comment section for me. It is a dialogue box where people can react to the post and speak to me as they would if I were stating these words to them face-to-face.

Again, intent is determined by the blog owner, and I clearly state that in my “all about me” section the reasons why I would delete a comment. I may delete someone’s comment and they may disagree that it was rude or insulting. If they wrote me directly, and I make my email address pretty accessible, confused as to why their comment was removed and apologizing for any assumed ill-intent, I would most likely replace their comment. But I’ve never removed a comment and had that type of meaningful conversation. Instead, I get a follow-up comment that is ruder. So…I think that probably supports my earlier assumption about intent.

Not everyone runs their blog like this and I’d love to hear how others deal with rude and anonymous comments. If they keep the comments up, I’d love to hear why. Who knows–you may convince me to change my reaction.

Of course, this doesn’t solve the second problem which is that even if you engage in some form of comment moderation, you are still subjected to the rude words. You are reading them in order to delete them or post them. For that, you will need to ask someone else to take over the job of moderating comments on your blog. Or you will need to see these types of comments as shit on the living room floor. You wouldn’t look at someone else’s feces as commentary on you–you would see it as a statement about their own lack of manners. And, perhaps, that is the only way to deal with those types of comments. Know they are spoke
n by people who do not have your best interests at heart. And dismiss them with a little bit of pity that no one taught them good manners.

No really, the beauty of a blog advice column is that you get to weigh in with your two cents too. Let the questioner know if you support the advice, add to the response, or dispute it completely.

Leave a comment in the reaction box below–only keep in mind that conflicting advice is embraced and rudeness is not. Want to ask your own question? Click here to see what you need to send in order to be included in a future Tuesday’s installment of Barren Advice.