Because I am Out, with a capital “O”, with everyone from family members to the woman trying to buy green beans at the supermarket, I get many people who come to me with questions. These conversations usually start out with “I think there’s a problem” and then goes into probing about how we knew we were having trouble conceiving and when we first visited the RE or had testing done. And they ask for details about the different tests and procedures and ask what we know about certain medications or paths to parenthood. And usually these people update us once or twice during their journey and we’re ultimately happy for them when they either conceive through treatments or third-party reproduction or adopt.

But twice I’ve had these conversations lead a few months later with the person telling me, “it turns out we didn’t have problem conceiving at all!” With the emphasis on the word “we.” As in, we are not you.

I’m not sure why the person needs to share this with me. Do they also walk up to mothers who have children with an illness and point out that their baby is healthy? Do they walk up to poor people and say, “I don’t know what to do with all of my cash. We’re just roooooooooooooooolling in it.”

And in this same category are the people who did use reproductive technology and then tell me that “thank G-d we didn’t have twins because we were so freaked out that we were going to end up with multiples.” Again, why would you say this to a mother of twins? And why would you talk about it as if you dodged a bullet and I ended up with a curse rather than the blessing of multiples? I think I’m quite clearly in love with the idea that I’m a mother of twins–I’ve never expressed sadness over this fact–so I’m not sure why the person thinks I would ever nod my head and say, “man, you really lucked out having a singleton. I can’t even stop and talk to you more about your pregnancy because I need to get back to my shitty life.”

And the only people who top those other two categories are the ones who know that we used treatments to get pregnant but tell me, “oh, we don’t have that problem at all. I got pregnant on the first try.”

I am well aware that the majority of people in this world, myself included, speak before we think. No matter how thoughtful you try to be, you will end up saying the wrong thing at some point if you engage in enough conversations. But just because I understand it doesn’t mean that I’m not hurt when it happens. And because thoughtlessness is so commonplace and unavoidable, I almost never address it. And I wonder if I’m perpetuating it by not addressing it or if it’s impossible to eradicate regardless so why even try.

The two times when a person told me that they were not infertile, I pulled out a top-quality, Seher-like “that’s so nice.” But I didn’t explain to them why their words made me feel like shit. While I understand that human impulse to distance yourself from anything considered imperfect, it still negates any emotions they felt up to this point as well as just emphasizes that I’m damaged goods while they are perfect, Grade-A babymakers. And I’m not sure why that emphasis needs to be made (but that is now making the wheels turn for a tangent post since this one seems to be getting too long).

For the people who make comments about how they dodged a bullet by having a singleton, I usually just smile and say, “my husband and I don’t really see twins as the devastating hardship that you apparently do.” And this either makes them back-pedal and say, “but what I meant was…” or stops that branch of the conversation entirely. But, again, I’m not really addressing how it made me feel and I’m sure the person didn’t truly get the message as to why those words are offensive. And, again, I’m not really sure what is gained by pointing out to another person how you don’t have their (perceived) shitty situation. It’s like walking by widows and saying, “thank G-d I still have my husband. I really dodged a bullet because I was worried I would end up with one who would die young from an illness!”

And the last category…well…I’m not even sure what could be said to them because they’re either completely clueless and can’t empathize with anyone outside their own experience or they do subconsciously know what they’re saying but are so insecure that they need to point out how they trump you–at least in the babymaking department. Because there’s never a reason why someone would need to know that you got pregnant on the first try. Unless a person asks outright. In reality, there’s no explanation that needs to be made–no tears at a baby shower or secret trips to the clinic that need to be explained. There’s just no reason to pass along that information unless you’re flaunting it. And when you’re flaunting it to an infertile woman, well, that’s just thoughtless at best and mean at the worst.

When these situations arise do you address them? Do you let them go? And what do you say? Have you ever handled it very well and can pass on tips to others? And if you choose (like me) to not inform people how it made you feel, why do you remain silent?

P.S. To my sweetest friend who did get pregnant on the first try, but not only didn’t tell me, but made me believe that it happened for you after months of trying…thank you. For sparing my feelings with your white lie. Because I know exactly why you told that to me–you knew that the truth would be obvious once numbers were calculated. And even though after math comes into play, the white lie has so many holes that it’s ridiculous, I still love you for pretending.

The blogroll is in a bit of a state of disarray. I go through the blogroll constantly to make sure that people are still in the correct category. And while doing that, I decided to create a bunch of new categories within adoption and parenting so that people could find information quickly.

Which means that some of those big categories such as…well…”adoption” have been broken down into smaller categories of adoption (domestic or foster), adoption (international), parenting after adoption (domestic or foster), and parenting after adoption (international). But I’m still in the process of moving people into the correct category. And I’m still leaving up a general adoption category to catch the people who are still considering which adoption path to take until they can be moved into one side or the other. Of course, there are people who straddle two categories (why y’all have to be so difficult?): they already had a child adopted through China and they decided to adopt domestically the next time around. Or they have a child (so they’re parenting), but they’re adopting again (so they’re in the adopting category). When these situations pop up, I place the person randomly in one category. If you’d like to be moved, let me know (thetowncriers@gmail.com).

So, bear with me as I break down those huge lists into smaller categories. Anyone who has been parenting at all has been lumped into one huge category and I’m trying to split that one up along with breaking down that large adoption list (and adding many other adoption blogs I found this weekend).

Lastly, I joined Blogger Chicks (check out the additional blogroll at the bottom of the page–and join yourself by clicking on the link at the top of the list). Which seemed like a no-brainer since I am (1) a blogger, (2) a chick, and (3) a big fan of building community. So check out the blogs listed within there–they range from blogs about motherhood to work to play to just being a kick-ass woman.
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Updated at 11:01 p.m.

Some blogs that I know will have to be moved from adopting to parenting in the next few weeks/months (such as someone who is currently in PGN), I’m moving straight to parenting. Because you have pictures of your child. And you’ve even possibly spent time with your child. And…well…you’re moving to parenting shortly. So. I hope I’m not offending anyone by putting you over in parenting if your adoption isn’t finalized. Please let me know if you wish to be moved to a different category.

Sorry–I’m really stuck on the etiquette of this one and don’t want to offend anyone.

How would I know anything about myself (or knitting or China) without One Long Yarn? Today, I was scrolling back through the archives and I discovered what type of coffee I am. Actually, my first “type” was so off that I redid the quiz with my alternate set of answers (you know, the ones that you discarded for the one that seemed to fit you better at the time). When I read it aloud, my husband was like, “oh, yes, that’s the little nut job I know and love.”

I am normally not a big fan of the general advice column. I mean, how can one person offer advice on such a diverse range of issues—from relationships to divorce to fighting with in-laws to infertility? I know that while I could probably dole out some advice when it comes to certain areas of infertility (treatments–but not adoption or third party reproduction), raising twins, or just being a fantabulous woman-about-town (by the way–that’s how fantastic and fabulous I am–the words just merge when they describe me), most other issues in life are just a guess. I don’t know for certain how to help someone through a divorce because I have never experienced divorce. My fallback is just to sit and listen. But that’s not really…advice.

But I was pleasantly impressed with Ms. Hax this morning and her recent Tell Me About It column.

TELL ME ABOUT IT
By Carolyn Hax
Washington Post Staff WriterFriday, October 20, 2006; Page C02

Dear Carolyn:
My wife had a string of first-trimester miscarriages over the past two years. Devastated us both. Now she’s five months pregnant, gorgeous, glowing, healthy (according to a new doctor we both trust). I am overwhelmed with my excitement; she is numb with fear. She hasn’t told anyone but me, and won’t even let me be happy for us. I know our baby will be okay and I feel like we’re missing out on being the happiest we’ve ever been. What should I do now that it turns out my excitement isn’t as contagious as I thought it was?

Carolyn’s Answer: Consider your wife, whose fear hasn’t been as contagious as she had probably hoped. This is not a gratuitous downer, it’s the truth: You don’t “know” your baby will be okay. Nobody does. Most babies are okay but some aren’t.

And, someone who has internalized bad news, especially recently, won’t buy into a mood that’s built on a belief that bad news won’t happen. Not only does it directly contradict what she has felt in her own body, it minimizes it. It’s like you’re saying, “Okay, the fetus is healthy, we’re all better now!”

You don’t mean to do this, you mean well, I think that’s clear. But you’re essentially denying her grief, which is no doubt still fresh. In fact, the joy of a healthy pregnancy can actually exacerbate grief by underscoring what she lost in those first babies.

It can also make the specter of loss loom even larger: If she feels she barely made it through those early miscarriages, how will she endure a loss now, or, unthinkably, later on, when the love for her baby grows with each passing day?

This probably sounds like a primer for how you don’t want to think right now. But I’m willing to guarantee she’s thinking it already, so nothing you say will be persuasive until it sounds like the truth and not just wishful thinking. She might even benefit from talking to others who have been through similar losses, so she can work these things out at her own pace; your obstetrician should have a ready supply of resources.

I think your optimism will help, too — once she hears that you get it. You get the risks, and you’re excited and unafraid to love your baby anyway. Maybe because you’re not denying life is tenuous, you’re accepting it — and so you take your joy where you can.

Not sure if Carolyn ever experienced a pregnancy loss or pregnancy after infertility/loss, but I was duly impressed with her advice.

What’s your take?

Knew I could count on you guys to find out what happened on Grey’s. Have to say that I’m not that impressed with the “secret.” First of all, I feel like we already knew that from another episode. Second of all…well, there is no second of all, but it feels like there should be a “second of all” because that was a really lame secret.

My whole house smells like vegetarian chicken soup. What? Vegetarian chicken soup? I’m so glad you asked. I’ve been trying to create a soup stock that tastes like chicken soup but is completely vegetarian (without using any of those premade veggie bases that taste like chemicals). And I think I’m getting closer. We’re putting this batch to the test tonight with a pot of pho ga (Vietnamese chicken soup). Email me (thetowncriers@gmail.com) if you want the recipe for my “no chicken” soup. You can use it in place of chicken stock in any recipe. The only catch is that if you make it, you need to write back and tell me what you think so I can keep tweaking the recipe.

And what is the best thing to do while you wait the hour and a half for the pot of soup to cook down into golden goodness? Read blogs.

A huge congratulations to Ella at Nothing But Lemons. It’s still quite early, but she just learned that she’s pregnant. Woohoo!

Southern Comfortable posted a 100 things list this week. I’ve been meaning to do one of these for a while. Perhaps I will get to it this weekend. Top of that list: I’ve been trying to create a recipe for non-chicken chicken soup. I think my favourite part of Soco’s post was about leaving for her cruise: “I’ve had at least three people tell me that I’ll get pregnant on the cruise. Aha! The solution to our infertility was there all along! A vacation– silly me for not thinking of it earlier! Gah. Luckily, I knew all three well enough to explain that, no, we won’t be getting pregnant on the cruise, considering that I won’t be ovulating during the cruise. I also think that, somehow, a cruise was unlikely to be the solution to my blocked tube. I know these people all meant well, but good grief.” I love this image of her explaining how ovulation works. Right…so the answer is that you need to time the relaxing with when you’re ovulating. Silly, Soco, don’t you know that you should have scheduled your cruise around your cycle? Hope you have a good trip and post pictures when you return.

Makariya at Two in the Infertility Boat has a gorgeous post on why she’s not out to her parents (specifically her mother). Unlike Grey’s Anatomy, the end of this post was a total surprise. And I think it’s such an interesting twist on how we choose who to tell.

Those Pommie girls at Pomegranate have declared their blog a celebrity-free zone. At least it’s a celebrity-bashing-free zone. After the brouhaha with Madonna’s adoption this week, they posted an entry on the fact that Angelina Jolie, Meg Ryan, and now Madonna are adoptive parents–regardless of what they do. Their adoption aren’t more unique and interesting and wonderful. They’re just adoptive parents trying to create their families. The Pomegranate ladies ask: “At Pomegranate, can adoptive parents (all of us reading and also beyond) be just that: adoptive parents? Women? Men? People? With good intentions and insecurities and hopes and shortcomings?” The gist of this entry is that we shouldn’t judge each other’s decisions–and we shouldn’t do it just because the person is famous and the story is out there in the news.

Serenity has done it again with a gorgeous post about infertility and marriage. The stress of infertility has caused many a divorce, but it can also have the opposite effect–working together day after day under duress can strengthen a marriage as well. Which is what it has done for Serenity. But she came to that understanding over time. It’s not that they’ve been without their fights, but realizing that you’re standing on the same side of the river with someone who wants to cross it just as much as you do is a huge moment in a relationship. And one that carries you over to the other side and life beyond.