Can I ask you a question?

Why do you leave the comments open on your posts (if you do this sort of thing)? I’ll share my reason. There are actually two reasons. First and foremost, I think of blogs as a skewed conversation just as I see therapy as a skewed conversation. One person does the bulkload of the talking, but it’s still a conversation. Therapy without the other person is sort of like audio journaling. I mean, it’s helpful to talk it out, even if you’re only talking to the wall, but there is a reason people pay to speak to a live person or choose to call their friends for a vent rather than aiming their words at a sofa cushion. I think the questions other people ask or their commentary on your words brings you to a different level of understanding. So, that conversation is important.

I also leave the comments open on my blog because I often ask questions (as I am doing now) and would honestly like an answer. I’m the sort who likes the book club because I don’t like to read in a vacuum. I like to talk about ideas that I’ve read–when I asked about robot sex and how it will affect the acceptance of treatments, I wasn’t posing this hypothetically. I truly wanted to know what you thought about what I thought about when I was watching the Colbert Report. And one of the reasons why I started the Roundup over a year ago…more like a year and a half ago…is that I read these cool things and I wanted to talk about them. And I wanted to hear what you thought about them. So it’s really cool when I return to a post (and feel free to do this on any of the posts below) and there are more comments and I get to read more opinions.

Here is my second question because I actually had a second one too.

Why do you leave comments? We all know why we don’t leave comments–nothing to say, strapped for time, it’s read more blogs or leave more comments and people choose to read more rather than write more. But when you do leave a comment, why do you do it? Again, I’ll share my reasons. I do it because I want the person to know that their words weren’t spoken into a vacuum. Because I have a question to ask. Because I think of an analogy or something that might (or might not) help them see their own words in a new way. Because I have an answer to their question. Because I want them to know that someone out there cares about them. Because I want them to know that they made me think, laugh, or cry.

I have been thinking about the comments section this week due to three separate incidents that appeared on three separate blogs, including my own. And several off-blog conversations I have had with people who were either directly attacked or read the attacks and were affected because they were either hurt by the words too or because they were upset with how another person was treated. And this is the thing, if I knew how to do it, I would rename my section a reaction section. Because, for me, that is what that box is meant to house. A reaction to the post. It isn’t there as a space to cut-and-paste spam, though some spammers use it that way. It isn’t a space to write about something completely off-topic, though some people use it that way. It is simply there as a pause in the conversation, where the other person can slip in their thoughts as a response to your own.

In this vein, is the reaction box owned by the readers or the person who owns the blog? On one hand, the reaction box is a space for the reader, therefore, it would follow that it would be like a freelance article. You give the magazine permission to print your own thoughts and house it on their pages, but the thoughts are still your own. On the other hand, each blogger owns their own blog and that includes every inch of space including what they choose to do with their sidebar, header, or font size.

I want to open this to debate, but I should probably clarify two things. I believe this space is my own in order to do as I choose and I view your space as your own. If I don’t like you space, I probably won’t visit and I hope that if you don’t like my space, you won’t spend time here either. Having people visit who don’t really want to be here is sort of like the houseguest from hell. No one is really happy in that equation and life is too short to have people reading things that they get nothing from. Therefore, if you don’t like my writing, I hope you don’t come back. And if you do like my writing overall, but I have an off-post, I hope you stop reading it immediately (think of it like returning a library book that you didn’t enjoy. No harm, no foul. Clicking on a blog should carry the same level of commitment) but come back on another day. And if you like my writing or I say things that resonate with you, I hope you stick around and keep reading and let me know that you’re here so I can know about your blog if I do not already know about it.

So, that said, you may feel like something is appropriate to say, but if I don’t think it’s appropriate to say, it won’t remain on my blog. I refuse to have name-calling take place on my blog. That’s where I put my foot down. Disagreement, definitely. Disagreeableness, not so much. And it’s a fine line. But, at the end of the day, it’s up to me to decide what remains here. It’s up to you to decide if you visit here. And if you want to call me names or someone else names, you can, but I’ve just outlined what will happen. And if you’re not happy with this, I’m sorry. That said, my mind is never set entirely, and if someone were to make a strong argument for why they do keep each and every comment on their blog including the ones that call other commentors names, I would be open to changing my mind. But I do believe everyone needs to own their words and stand by their words when they say them. And to think before they hit publish–both on their blog and in the reaction box.

So, all of those questions posed, I would really like to focus on the blogs below. Because these posts rock. And I’d love to hear your thoughts on them in their reaction box.

JJ at Reproductive Jeans had an angry, raw post that literally pulsates in the wake of her negative. I loved this post because it is honest and brave and the words literally made me want to pick up a plate and hurl it against the wall. It’s an amazing feat when a post can be cathartic for the reader as I’m sure it was (or I hope it was) for the writer. I’m incredibly grateful that she would share this piece of her heart because as you read down the comments, you realize how many people felt less alone after reading it.

MsPrufrock at BarrenAlbion had a follow up post to her recent break-in that I read three times through and I still can’t find the words to summarize the incredibleness of this post. Again, the rawness. Really, all I can do is nod my head in agreement and throw a hypothetical plate against the wall for the laptop taken. But since you can’t see my nodding head, please click over and read both posts because they will make you think.

OmegaMom had a post about how we misconstrue words in the flatness of the Internet as well as an ethical situation about the words we put out there. Honestly, both of
these posts made me thinking so hard that my head hurt (and that was after all of the head nodding had already taken place over at BarrenAlbion). I would love to hear your answers to her questions so go over and join the conversation.

Lastly, at Still Passing Open Windows, she writes about the concept of moving on. She explains that impulse to get “rid of everything that reminded me of him and our almost two years together” when she broke up with a boyfriend and how that same impulse is healing her broken heart again after the death of her daughter. Like some of the posts above, I think I was drawn to her words because they were so raw and powerful. And because you care and want to throw the hypothetical china against the wall for her in solidarity.

A long roundup today–sorry about that–I’m a bit disillusioned by some of the things I’ve seen written about other people this week. I am around, but I’m just taking a step back to observe for a moment.

Updated:

A month or two ago, Calliope wrote about seeing a stork on the way to her beta and how we look for signs. There was a moment many years ago, on the Rosh Hashanah that came a few months before we conceived the twins were I begged for a sign while doing Tashlich at the river and on the walk back to the car, saw the elusive Jamocha, a bird of some fame in the D.C. area who goes by a plethora of names.

He is the brown bird seen sometimes around Swain’s Lock and I while others call him other things (he’s the sort of bird that everyone knows and everyone seems to have taken as their own by giving him a pet name), my brother and I call him Jamocha. Seeing Jamocha made me feel as if everything would eventually be alright. It seemed like good luck to see Jamocha in this moment when I really needed to see him, even if nothing actually happened that day or soon after.

Right after I read Calliope’s post, I had to go to the RE–I think it was day 3 blood work and as I pulled out from my house, I thought to myself, “it would be really good luck today to see a stork. Or an incarnation of Jamocha. Maybe one of Jamocha’s cousins.” I took a route through Great Seneca Park, which was a little bit like cheating because of course you’re going to see birds as you pass through a state park. Though this is what I saw.

Not exactly the same cuddly, baby-related bird as a stork nor a beloved symbol of goodness like Jamocha. They were also feeding on a dead raccoon. My day 3 blood work, by the way, not so hot. Maybe the birds were a sign.

Updated at the bottom:

coin operated boy
he may not be real
experienced with girls
but I know he feels like a boy should feel
isn’t that the point
that is why I want a
coin operated boy
with his pretty coin operated voice
saying that he loves me that he’s thinking of me
straight and to the point
that is why I want
a coin operated boy.
–The Dresden Dolls “Coin Operated Boy”

According to David Levy, somewhere in the not so distant future, we will be entering into functionally infertile relationships with robots and loving it. I’m not writing this to mock it, but rather to express my grave discomfort with having something along the line of Steven Spielberg’s AI reenacted in my living room (yes, that was a child, but still, robots, love, relationships). Levy’s PhD work states that “robots will become so human-like in appearance, function, and personality that many people will fall in love with them, have sex with them, and even marry them.”

He’s probably not that far off. I can tick off numerous occasions that I’ve become emotionally attached to inanimate objects and I would think the pull would be that much greater with something that looked and reacted like a human. Think about how emotional people get from the death of their gigapet. It’s not hard to see the jump from considering robots simply plastic and computer chips to relating to them like a spouse. Especially when that spouse fulfills a deep emotional need as the boy does in AI.

What I haven’t seen discussed yet is this idea of functional infertility and what will be done about it and how treatments will be perceived in light of robot marriage. There are two forms of infertility–functional and biological. Both share the same emotions and needs, but I don’t think they (for the most part) are treated equally by clinics at large. I am speaking broadly about reproductive endocrinologists, relying somewhat on the famous Mother Jones survey from last year that found that 48% of clinic directors said “they were very or extremely likely to turn away a gay couple seeking a surrogate” and 20% would “turn away a single woman.”

Functional infertility is the necessity for assisted reproduction in order to reproduce. The category is large encompassing gay men and lesbians, transgender men and women, and single men and women. There are also those who have had vasectomies and spinal cord injuries and chemotherapy-induced sterility. And now, it is also going to encompass those who marry robots.

Because I have to imagine that marriage will still work in the same way since the same human emotions that lead people to human marriages now will lead people to robot marriages later. People will want commitment and monogamy. Those who wouldn’t have affairs on human partners will most likely (I’m assuming here since we’re not marrying robots yet) not have affairs on robot partners. Which begs the question–how will they reproduce so that the robot can become a mum or dad to a child? Will they be programmed to never want to reproduce? Entirely possible. But since we can’t program humans, how will we control that impulse?

Will fertility treatments become widely accepted and understood as more people need them because they’ve entered into functional infertility?

Your thoughts?

Update:
Until comments started coming in, the only situation I had considered was one of functional infertility. Meaning, because a person and a robot cannot create a child, donor gametes or a surrogate would have to be used or adoption would have to be pursued in order to become parents–the same options open right now to a wide-range of people who are being discriminated against at some fertility clinics. I think the mourning would still take place–a person is in love and cannot create a child without assistance–but I wonder how the world at large would look at fertility treatments if they became commonplace because so many people were marrying robots and now needing them. Or if the discrimination would still exist.

Carolyn Hax recently had an excellent column that highlighted the idea of taking an individual experience–or even a common experience–and making it stand for the whole. A woman wrote in that her friend had asked her for help during IVF (the help was not specified) and when she pushed, the woman told her that “IVF is selfish and she should try adopting.” She based her decision upon her own family’s experience with adoption and her commitment to adoption due to her relationship with her brother. She also slammed her friend for desiring pregnancy and not choosing adoption, saying, “she’d never make a good parent if she can only love her own demon spawn.”

Carolyn cautioned the woman to rethink how she judges her friends and the criteria used:

The world was different 30-some years ago. You don’t know (nor do they, necessarily) that your parents wouldn’t have tried IVF had it been as common and available as it is today. It wasn’t an option for them: Louise Brown, the first such baby, was born in 1978…And, for babies, the demand is fierce, given the additional trend of delayed childbirth and thus infertility. The cost of adoption can be huge, the waiting lists long, and the hoops to jump through plentiful, if not prohibitive. So you used seriously out-of-date standards by which to trash your friend’s character. Maybe this particular friend had it coming for other reasons — for example, if she really thinks adopted kids get an asterisk. But that raises another point: Just as some people don’t want kids where some can’t imagine life without them, some women care more about feeling a kick, or men about seeing their wife’s eyes in their baby. If people are honest with themselves about their attachment to these things and decide adoption might not be for them, should they be judged as demon carriers for that? Does that include couples who bear children without intervention, or does it fall only on the infertile? Is that fair? Should all be shamed? Into what, adopting?

I think, for me, this went beyond sound advice and actually highlighted an issue being grappled with within the community that was sparked by the movie Juno. In some cases, the discussion has ceased to be about the movie at all and how it portrays adoption, but rather, how the speaker feels about adoption in general. And this belief is usually based on personal experience and applied to be the definition of the whole.

Just like the movie, which portrays a single experience (regardless of how you feel about the portrayal, it is indisputable that the story follows a single person and not a diverse group of teenage mothers), our own experience as just that–single experiences. And while we can each quote study after study that proves our point, the reality is that the opposing view point can quote study after study too. There are few places in life that are black and white. We, unfortunately and fortunately, live in a very grey space.

Life happens to us and certain experiences touch us more than others and certainly, for the woman in the letter above, adoption has been a defining factor in her world view and I understand completely how an experience can create a lens. After all, I am obviously defining my world through infertility. And so I do have strong opinions on a whole host of topics within this vein–sometimes I express them, sometimes I do not. A lot of that has to do with what I need to write about in the moment as well as exercising circumspection at times.

The point is that infertility is not the only thing that has happened to me in my recent past, but it is the event that has defined the world for me and I do see other people’s situations through that lens. It is hard to step back and say, “well, it’s not the decision I would make” while still understanding that they’re using a different set of criteria to base their decision. We are strongly tied to our beliefs. They are usually grounded in dirt that is deeply, deeply emotional. There is no way to know why one event strikes us more than another any more than we can know implicitly why we are drawn to our friends or partners. The gut tells us things are right and the gut decides the weight of an event when incorporating it into a world view.

It was said in one discussion on a blog that people write as an outlet. It’s not that those who are not saying anything aren’t unhappy, but that people use blogging as a form of “talking it out” therefore, it’s hard to get a true grasp on the community simply based on what is being said. People can hold their hand quite close to their chest and without knowledge of all the cards on the table, it’s hard to definitively call the game.

I’ll use myself as an example.

I was in two abusive relationships–one emotionally abusive and one emotionally and physically abusive. When I look back on those years–yes, we’re talking years, not weeks–of my life, I really don’t know what happened. I can say that Melissa right now would never make those decisions, but I also don’t know that for a fact because the Melissa back then sure did. And I just don’t believe you can never say never with certain things.

I don’t talk about it much not because those two events didn’t bother me–they certainly did–but, for whatever reason, though they affected the trajectory of my life, they are not the lens by which I view the world. They are at best a tiny outside rim of the lens. I’m sure those events affect me profoundly and inform my daily decisions without me even realizing it. I don’t think you can go through something like that and come out completely unchanged. But I think it’s interesting to look at the fact that I write about infertility, I work with infertility organizations, I do outreach within infertility circles. But the same isn’t true for abuse.

I don’t volunteer in shelters for battered women. I don’t do outreach. I’m sure that I could and I could have just as easily turned in that direction. But for whatever reason, I didn’t. And I can’t explain why. The point: these were cards that I have held close to my chest–not for any particular reason–and without my thoughts voluntarily being offered, it is impossible for anyone working within the abuse community to definitively say, “this method for helping a woman through abuse is the method all abused women agree help.” It may help–I think they could certainly say that it helps some. Or even most. But they can’t use all because some of us have not been forthcoming in our opinions. I do have opinions, but–for whatever reason–they are not where I choose to focus my emotional energy. My heart went with infertility.

You know what it’s like? It’s like the abuse has become a small scar that people sometimes notice and other times is covered up. I may know it’s there, but others don’t. And sometimes I wear short sleeves and people ask me about it. Sometimes I forget about it myself. But infertility, for me, is like a missing limb. It is always noticeable. It is always defining my day. It is something I keep close to the surface of the heart because I’m constantly navigating it. And this analogy is not to say that I sit here obsessed with family building (okay, I am obsessed with family building, but that’s not the point), but that it’s the difference between something that can be hidden and even forgotten for long periods of time and something that is constantly serving as a reminder for a trauma.

There are other women–probably readers of this blog–who become pregnant or start parenting and infertility is brushed into the background of their life. They remember the crisis and it probably informs their decisions somewhat, but it ceases to be their lens. That’s how it happened for them. It isn’t how it happened for me. Two people, the same e
vent, different ways of processing and therefore, different statements about the profound nature of the event or opinions on how others should be affected.

Which is just a long way of saying that I find it dangerous when we start creating definitions for the group as a whole especially when we’re standing in disputed, grey areas. You can create definitions where there has never been opposition. For instance, I have never seen someone write or heard someone say that abuse feels great and it gave them the energy to go through their day. Therefore, I think it is safe to say that abuse feels terrible and it sapped me of any energy I had to do anything more than lie in bed and stare at the wall, translation project be damned. If you can find someone who loves abuse and can state implicitly that it creates their happy space where they’re most productive, I will eat my definition.

Treatments, adoption, surrogacy, donor gametes…these are all grey areas and we all know in our heart that they’re grey areas regardless of our own convictions. We know that there is another side even if we think that other side is wrong. And when we disregard that other side and start creating definitions for the group as a whole, we start an argument. And those sorts of arguments are rarely the ones that bring about the desired changed. They’re usually the ones that simply result in hurt feelings.

Tread carefully.

P.S. In full disclosure, comments left that bash another group of people or ignore the point entirely will be deleted but a “removed by the site administrator” left in place (counter my argument with your own=fine. Call another commenter names or tell me that I’m a bitch going to hell=not fine). I want people to exercise mindfulness in every area of life–even taking opinions to which they also agree–so I think it’s important to note that opposition was voiced. But this is an extension of my home and I don’t allow rudeness in my house or in my comments section. And all of these topics are ones that bring out strong opinions.

Here is the master list for the tenth tour of the Barren Bitches Book Brigade. What is the Barren Bitches Book Brigade? It’s a book club from the comfort of your own living room. The book club is conducted entirely online and open to anyone (male or female) in the infertility/pregnancy loss/assisted conception/adoption/parenting-after-infertility world (as well as any other related category I inadvertently left off the list). It is called a book tour because everyone reads the same book and then poses a question to the group. Participants choose a few questions to answer and then post their response on their blog. Readers can jump from blog to blog, commenting along the way. We read both fiction and non-fiction.

Anyone can jump aboard–it’s a book club where you can drop in and out as you wish and all in the community are welcome.

Book: Embryo Culture*
Author: Beth Kohl
Start Date: January 29
Question Due: February 27
Question List Sent Out: February 28
Post Dates: March 3–5
(need an explanation of how a book tour works? Click here to go to a list of posts on the past book tours as well as information about future tours.)
*with author participation!

Barren Bitches Book Brigade List (The blogs below are participating on this current book tour. On March 3, you’ll be able to jump from post to post to read a plethora of opinions and thoughts on Embryo Culture. I will keep adding to this list until 11 p.m. on February 27. The list is currently open)

Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters
Our Box of Rain
Beaten But Not Bowed
The Duchess
Slaying, Blogging, Whatever…
The Road Less Travelled
The Dunn Family
The Infertile Long and Winding Road
The Open Door
All Things Deb
The Conceivable Future
Desperate to Multiply
Sticky Bean
Everyday Stranger/Twisted Ovaries
Baby Steps to Baby Shoes
Fertility Notes
Sell Crazy Someplace Else
Life, Love and the Pursuit of Normalcy
Journey to Baby – Uncertain Yet Hopeful
On the Wrong Side of Statistics
A Day in the Life of a Moody Person
Southern Infertility

Not on the list and want to join? Drop me an email at thetowncriers@gmail.com. You can add yourself up until 11 p.m. on February 27.

How the book tour works:

(1) leave a comment or send me an email (thetowncriers@gmail.com) saying that you’re interested in participating. I need your blog name, blog url, and email address.

(2) read Embryo Culture by February 27th (or at least enough of it in order to ask a question to the group).

(3) create a single question that would kick off a discussion (in other words, any question that leads to more than a “yes” or “no” answer where someone can express their opinion) and mail it to me on February 28th (or any time beforehand). I will send you a reminder email close to the date. Click here to see sample questions from tour #4.

(4) the author, Beth Kohl, is open to answering any questions and reading along. Please send me any questions you have for her by February 27th.

(5) on February 28th, I will send you a list of possible questions. Everyone will choose 3 questions off the list and answer them in a blog entry. You will find out if you are posting on March 3, 4, or 5 (you can choose).

(6) on March 3rd, people will begin to post their entry. Each day, I will post a linked list of all the people putting up their entry that day so people can go around and read the entries and comment (start a discussion back and forth in the comments section). Reading the entries and commenting on the posts is the best part of the tour–by the end of the week, you should have a comment from every participant (and maybe even a few new permanent blog readers).