In the middle of Jennifer Aniston’s divorce from Brad Pitt, he posed for a W Magazine spread with Angelina Jolie (which, according to the W Magazine website was his concept) where they appear like a typical 1960’s family complete with backyard kiddie pool and teased hairdos (and somewhat inexplicably, a set of identical triplets). There are the “family” shots, but also several more suggestive ones including one where Angelina Jolie is in a pre-mount position and Brad Pitt has both hands sliding into his pants.

In a Vanity Fair interview after that W Magazine spread broke along with paparazzi photographs of Brad Pitt with Angelina and Maddox all playing happily, Aniston said her famous quote: “There’s a sensitivity chip that is missing in Brad.”

She pointed out the difference–his actions aren’t hateful. He isn’t trying to rub it in her face. It certainly isn’t his fault that the paparazzi documents his every move therefore, unlike most women getting divorced who don’t need to see their ex’s daily life, making these images impossible to escape. It’s just that sensitivity chip.

And I think the frustrating thing is when you see that a person can be sensitive. At least, to people and situations other than your own. Maybe they’re like Brad Pitt, touring the world to help others in need and rebuilding homes after Katrina and being a great father, but they can’t seem to be sensitive to the people close to them–the ones who are part of their daily life such as his wife at the time, Jennifer Aniston. Or they’re a therapist by profession, helping AIDS patients, but they can’t reach out and be thoughtful to their own family. Or they’re raising thousands for cancer research, but completely ignore their friend with cancer who could use some company or a home-cooked meal. It’s that sensitivity chip.

And when asked about the photos that appeared in Us Weekly of Pitt, Jolie and her son, Maddox, romping on an African beach, as well as the photo spread in W magazine where Pitt and Jolie played house, Aniston responded, “There’s a sensitivity chip missing in Brad.”

“It was a huge shock to Jennifer,” Bennetts said. “It’s not like she didn’t know a relationship was developing, but seeing the instant family Brad created with someone else was excruciatingly painful for her.”

And it’s hard to be upset because we can’t be sensitive to everyone and everything at all points. It’s impossible to go through life without hurting another person. And there is a huge difference between doing something maliciously and doing something thoughtlessly. But why do we overlook the people closest to us when reaching out to others beyond our circle? How can we emotionally hurt someone like a soon-to-be-ex-wife and not think through those actions, but have the forethought to be able to consider how best to send help in a crisis situation in another part of the world?

I was having dinner a few nights ago with three other friends. Girl A is not pregnant. Girl B is about six months along and showing a lot. Girl C had been pregnant, but immediately told us when we sat down at the restaurant that she had miscarried at 8 weeks. After we had spoken about her loss, Girl A turned to Girl B and said, “but how is your pregnancy going, pregnant lady?” And it felt like someone had thrown all the sensitivity chips into the salsa (or, in this case, the sushi). How could Girl A, a thoughtful woman who raises money for many causes and reaches out to so many people through her charity work, not think through how those words might cause Girl C to feel? It’s not that we had to ignore Girl B’s pregnancy–at six months, it’s hard to ignore–but to not follow the first news with an update about the baby kicking might have been nice. Or to not call Girl B “pregnant lady” when asking for the update would have been thoughtful. Or to allow the person who just had to convey bad news the opportunity to move the conversation forward onto the next topic–whether she chooses to ask about Girl B’s pregnancy or to turn the conversation to workplace woes for a moment in order to create the breather between the two conversations.

I had been reluctant to go out to this dinner in the first place. Something had been bothering me before I went to the restaurant. Getting in the car afterwards, I was immediately reminded of this quote by Jennifer Aniston. And the lack of chips. Which may have been obvious since we were out for Japanese and not Tex-Mex. But those internal chips–the ones that allow us sometimes to only see the greater world and not the lens to carefully observe those close to us.

Maybe you were trying to read my blog Tuesday night around…oh…let’s say 11 p.m. and you were wondering why you were looking at a blank screen with only a blogging chicks icon and a technorati box. The reason for the lack of entries is because I accidentally deleted my blog. And then scrambled back through old screens to discover that the change was indeed permanent. And my blog was gone. All my entries were gone. The sidebar was gone. All the Operation Heads Up write-ups and emoblopedia links and the peer infertility counselor list. All gone.

This is the point where I tell you that I immediately started gasping, said that I was going to vomit and went into hysterics. And this is also the point where I tell you that after two hours or so of work, my brilliant and calm husband was able to reload most (if not all) of the blog. And this is also the point where I give you my public service announcement.

Fellow Bloggers, if you are making a change to your template (such as, perhaps, deleting a chunk of code) please use the preview blog function before you click on the button that saves changes to the template. Once you click save, you apparently cannot unsave. If I had used this button, I would have seen that I was about to accidentally delete my entire blog by erasing my template and I would have gone back in and corrected this situation. Please please please do not be cocky like me when you actually know nothing about computers.

Secondly, if you love your blog like I love my blog, you will go into your template, highlight all of the code by choosing “select all” and then copy it to a Word document. You will always resave this Word document any time you make changes to your template. This way, if you ever accidentally delete your template, you can reload the code easily.

Lastly, consider cutting-and-pasting all entries into a Word document as well. You can never be too careful if you have a trigger finger like mine.

Tuesday night, I was trying to keep emotions in check as well as control the urge to vomit. I kept telling myself that it was only a blog that was lost–not a person. It was simply a bunch of words. And about 3/4th of a year of work. But a blog nonetheless. And losing the words didn’t mean that I lost the memories. I still knew everything I had thought these last 9 months (9 months!). But not having that record? Well, it made me want to vomit.

All is well that ends well. We got into bed around 1 a.m. with the blog mostly in place. And I’ve been checking links for the past few days. And slowly adding in new emoblopedia entries which for whatever reason take a longer time than I thought to do. So forgive me if it takes me a day or two to get up your entries. And keep sending links to your great posts. Because there is no such thing as modesty when it comes to the emoblopedia. All posts are great posts–from the simple two-line entry announcing another negative and the desire to crawl into bed to the three-part posts about a friendship that was almost lost and then rebuilt.

And I’m still commenting. And delurking. All week long. Even if it’s a simple–hey, that was just a great post.

Where has all the banter gone? All the warm hugs or agreement or disagreement or assvice or name-calling? The acknowledgment that a warm-blooded person has taken in your words with their eyes and processed them inside their brain? I just read this fantastic, emotional post about a last loss on Tina’s blog and there were only three comments (okay, by the time I post this, there may be more, but if there isn’t, go over there and comment!). Three comments! There had to be more than three readers. And how can you read something that emotional and not reach out with a little virtual hug?

And I’m admonishing myself too! I’m guilty of reading and fleeing. Of laughing and then clicking the mouse to go onto the next blog without telling the writer that I was snickering over her entry. Or bawling my eyes out, but not letting the writer know how much their words affected me. We think that it’s not important to leave a comment, but like the subtitle of the emoblopedia suggests, blogging is interactive. Half of the job is completed by the writer and the other half is completed by the reader.

I am declaring this upcoming week Comments Week. From today until next Friday, send out the love. Read fewer blogs if you have to but comment more. Let people know that you’re reading them. It can even be a Dick Cheney-like flat response of “I am reading you. I enjoyed this. Grrrrrr.” But at least acknowledge that you read the words and they went through you–even if they were sort of the emotional equivalent to Olestra.

It’s spring. It’s a time for love (is it a time for love? It just feels like spring could be a time for love). Send some love. Send a little hug. That could be your whole comment: “hug!” Agree with someone. Or disagree respectfully with someone. Or send a little “is everything okay” note to a blogger like Smarshy who hasn’t written in weeks and we’re supposed to believe that he’s “busy” with this “class” when we all know that he’s watching Teletubbies on the sly. And placing the blame on the Buggins.

Oh…and look…here are some blogs where you can send the love!

On the topic of emotional posts about loss, Annie at Pink Line Chaser is currently going through a loss right now. She could use a virtual hug. At the same time, read her post this week, “Figures.” She asks: “You know those moods where you just want to pick a fight with someone just to fight? Or you are frozen into inaction by malaise or apathy? Yeah. I’ve got both going on. Those feelings are so familiar–you can’t help but nod your head in agreement.

Avonlea has this achingly beautiful post about being in a state of pre-spring–of being simply the leaves with the bulb still underground waiting to emerge. My favourite part of the post is this gorgeous thought: “The problem I have – the root of it – is staying. Staying with my feelings, staying in the moment. Feeling. Being. Procrastination helps me avoid all of that. But I have finally gotten to the point where the pressure and anxiety of avoiding are too high and I must confront it all and deal with it. So I’ve begun pushing through that dirt that’s piled up high on my head. I’m making in roads, but I’m not there yet.” Isn’t that amazing? Well, don’t just sit there nodding your head; go tell her (by fuck, I’m demanding today)!

Sara at Of Course You’ll Get Pregnant has a post called “Owwww, My Nipples” this week. And if that’s not enough to get you to go over there in nipple empathy, this line should send you clicking: “I’ve already POAS (positive – so the trigger shot did make its way into my system) and put it under my pillow for luck. How ridiculous is that?” I don’t know why; I just love the idea of sleeping with a pee stick under the pillow. Now I’m sure Josh would put down his foot at bringing urine into the bed (even if the stick is capped), but if I tucked it between the bed springs and the mattress and he didn’t know?…

Watson of My Dear Watson has an amusing/informative 3 part video about mixing and preparing meds (though she stops short at showing you the injection). If you’re about to start injections, it might be helpful to see and if you’re already a seasoned pro, you might still want to watch for advice on what to do with all those vial tops.

Dianne at Flutter of Hope has a great post that really put into words a relationship that I have (and I’m sure that most people have someone like this in their lives). You could be on the same side of the field, working together and empathizing together, but instead you’re separate in your emotions over infertility. She writes: “What hurts, is that she can’t recognize that if she is in pain, I must also be in pain. Instead of being on our own corners of pain, we could be bonding over it. We could be commiserating over the feelings of being left behind, our longing for a wanted child which may never come, and our sadness which is my infertility.”

Liz, who wrote the Infertility Survival Handbook as well as the adoption book that we read for the first book tour has started her own blog! Read along and go welcome her into the blogosphere as she considers whether or not to return to the clinic to try treatments again.

Lastly, Kim at There’s Weenie Juice on My Cookie (how can that not pique your interest?) has a post this week that is just plain fun. Head on over and read about the amazing feats of werewolf sperm.

So go comment this week. Keep track of how many comments you write. Congratulate yourself at the end of the week for making however many bloggers feel better (um…the point is to make them feel better–so no mean comments allowed) by letting them know that their words have made a difference in your life.

Oh…and while you’re out there commenting, tell people when you think a post should go into the emoblopedia. Just cut-and-paste: “hey, this would be great for the emoblopedia! Send a link to this post to thetowncriers@gmail.com and Melissa will add it. Just let her know which category–or start a new one.”

Or something like that…

Last night, I dreamed that I was on Oprah. But I had to multitask so I could complete my film for the International Infertility Film Festival in time. So I brought a laptop on stage, and I was sitting in one of her squashy chairs, talking about my hoohaahooterus and colouring in pixels by hand (a side note–in real life, for some reason, my Microsoft Paint program sometimes makes me go in and add colour pixel by pixel. Which is what I was doing for two hours last night before bed).

Me: Yes, Oprah, one of the problems facing most stirrup queens is the lack of fertility treatment coverage. If insurance would cover injectible medications in the same way they cover Viagra, IVF would be accessible to many more people.

Oprah: (imagine her words in that Oprah sing-song like voice where she gets louder and softer and her voice rises and falls without any meaning) Weeeeeeeeeeeeell, Melissa…We. Have. A. Surprise. For. You. IVF is currently one of my favourite things! FAVOURITE THINGS! And to celebrate how much I love IVF, we are going to pay for the 4-tries, shared-risk program at your fertility clinic! Aaaaaaaaaaand, we are going to pay for 10 more stirrup queens to get KNOCKED UP!

Me: (furiously adding colour to the pixels and not even looking up at Oprah) This rocks. Thank you so much Oprah.

At this point, everyone is looking under their seats in the audience and they’re pulling out filled syringes.

And then I woke up.

Oprah is buying me 4 tries at IVF at my clinic.

She loves IVF just like she loves croissants from Williams Sonoma and Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker.

I think this is the point where I need to reiterate that it was a dream or Oprah’s List Keepers hunt you down and threaten you for infringing on the purity of The List.

I will leave you with these stills from my submission to the International Infertility Film Festival (which starts March 31st). Even though I have no musical abilities and I’ve never made a cartoon, I told Josh that we needed to do a musical cartoon. I thought, the harder the better.

Um…hello.

I’m the…well, I’m the emoblopedia. You know, that emotional blog encyclopedia that archives thought-provoking entries? The one that’s an interactive anthology grouped by topic (treatments, adoption, loss) as well as category (deciding to try IVF or remembering terraversaries)?

So…that’s who I am. And you–you’re a blogger. Who writes about infertility or loss or life after infertility or loss. And you write these really fantastic entries that make people leave comments. And they change the way someone views the world. And frankly, that’s pretty powerful.

You know, sometimes people read the same blogs every day. And sometimes, people are searching for words that help them make sense of their own situation. Reading someone else’s thoughts on the matter sometimes makes them feel at peace with their own thoughts. Or it may help them make a decision. Or decide that they want to take a different path. And that’s sort of the point of me–the emoblopedia. People can quickly find the types of posts they are looking to read from any of the hundreds of infertility and pregnancy loss blogs in the blogosphere.

But you see, the problem is that I’m too thin. I’m sort of like only-eating-cucumber-slices-for-lunch thin. And I don’t have to fit into a bikini this summer–that is the beauty of being the emoblopedia. Bigger is better. I want to be overstuffed with emotions. I want to be ripping at the seams from all the entries.

What I really want is to be like my cousin, the Creme de la Creme list. She showcases 76 different blogs and she only covers one year! I cover any time period–from the beginning of the blogosphere to anything you write in the future.

So…er…this is my open note to beg for entries. Give me your favourites, give me your thought-provoking, give me your turning points. Give me the ones where you sat on the floor crying or when you heard those magical words: doubling beta. From the day you received back the SA results and learned about your infertility to the day that you started your first IVF cycle. Anything. Everything. If people took the time to comment on the entry, it means that it has the power to make people think. Or feel. Or empathize. And this is a chance to have people find your little blog on the prairie.

So…I need to get back to adding entries, but I wanted to also say a special thank you to Tina, Katd, SoCo, Bea, and Pamela for being the first people to send me some links to kick off the project. And then Samantha, LJ, Serenity, Sara, Dianne, Bumble, Adrienne, Jules, and Mandolyn for adding entries over the weekend. So here is a great opportunity to read through your blog and see your whole journey in words. And contribute to this anthology. Which is interactive because people can still leave you comments on your posts. See–old posts get new life on an emoblopedia.

So send over the entries and/or create new categories–remember if a category doesn’t exist to house one of your entries, simply create a new category. There is a home for every type of entry in my belly. I mean…er…the emoblopedia. Right. The emoblopedia.

And please help me spread the word in case there are people out there who read your blog and would want to contribute an entry or two (or 18. Or 36. Or even 414–really, there is an infinite amount of space).

Love,
The Emoblopedia (otherwise known by her friends as simply Emo-Blo)

P.S. Be sure to include a link to the main page of your blog when you submit an entry because it helps me add them faster. And tell me the best category for your entry (or the new category name). And you can either leave entries in the comments section or email them to me at thetowncriers@gmail.com.