I’m sure it wasn’t Mark Zuckerberg’s intention when he invented Facebook to create a medium that reveals our true personalities despite what we attempt to carefully cultivate online and in the face-to-face world.  For instance, there are people who would describe themselves as a good person, go to church, participate in that canned food drive, make an appropriate unhappy face emoticon at their friend’s bad news.  And then they read something on a social media site — perhaps a blog or Twitter or Facebook or the comment section of the New York Times (possibly my favourite spot online to see people’s true nature) — and we get to see what really lurks beneath the exterior.  Sometimes it is just more of what we see on the surface.  Sometimes we get to see the person’s inner asshole.

I was nervous to hit publish on that last post for many reasons, but the reaction has pretty much gone as I suspected it would.  The vast majority of people who read it and commented internalized my words and reflected back that they understood them.  Many have had a similar experience to my own with infertility, and they agreed that the meme made them feel the same way.  Some have had a similar experience with infertility and knew it was a game so didn’t feel the same way, though they could see how it would be hurtful if you didn’t understand what you were reading.  A few people weren’t infertile at all but said they either felt the same way or had participated and now felt apologetic.  And then there were a handful of people who — due to the social media machine laying our true essence bare — trotted out their inner asshole and told everyone who was upset that they were “absolutely ridiculous” and should “get a life.”

Disagreeing with me isn’t what makes you an asshole.  People disagree with me all the time, in the face-to-face world or on this blog.  It’s the way you disagreed, belittling as you explained why people aren’t allowed to feel what they are feeling that makes you an asshole.

*******

If we could boil down my entire post into a few lines, I’d say it like this:

I am really happy for friends when they are truly pregnant even though I am simultaneously feeling sad for myself.  At the same time, I saw this Facebook meme, and while the intention was not to be malicious, this is how I processed the game.  As you can see, because possibly 10% of your Facebook friends have experienced infertility whether or not you know it, you may be unintentionally hurting other people.  Here are some things you can do to raise awareness for a cause if you’re itching to raise awareness for a cause, as I am told was the original intention for this meme.

The only correct response to someone telling you that something you did made them feel like shit is “I am so sorry that you felt that way.”  This is true every time someone tells you in life that something you did hurt their feelings.  If you agree that you actually did something wrong, you can apologize for the actions too, but really, only an asshole hears that someone is upset and counters it with “get a life.”  A person can offer a reason for why they participated, and it’s helpful for the person who was hurt to understand why the action was undertaken.  But the reality is that telling people to “get over your selves and do something positive instead of trying to bring down other peoples fun” doesn’t make you right — it just makes you an asshole.

I’ve said this before but some of the comments made me feel like it bears repeating: humans seem to be able to comprehend that someone else’s sadness cannot make them feel sad.  You can learn on your wedding day that a tsunami has devastated a tiny island population in the Pacific, thousands of miles away.  While you will hopefully pause for a moment and reflect on the terribleness of it and perhaps decide to donate some of your monetary wedding gifts to relief efforts, unless you are directly affected, your wedding will continue on.   You will be a radiant bride walking down the aisle.  You will eat cake and you will dance.  And that doesn’t make you an asshole — that makes you a human being.  We all navigate our own daily mood against the happiness and sadness of others.

Human beings are complex, and we are capable of feeling two completely different emotions at the same time.  We can acknowledge someone else’s pain while still experiencing our own joy and vice versa.  We can acknowledge someone else’s joy while still experiencing our own pain.  The reality is that life always needs to continue; it doesn’t stop for our sadness or our elation.  We experience a loss and we’re expected after a brief amount of time to jump back into living just as we experience a life-changing, happy occasion such as a wedding and we’re expected back to our daily obligations after the honeymoon.

We are constantly thrust back into the real world without really having the luxury of time to deal with our complex emotions.  We need to constantly carry our feelings with us.  Hence how you get someone infertile having to deal with their sadness while simultaneously experiencing happiness for another person.  In a perfect world, we’d have the space to place our emotions in tiny compartments.  But we live in a wonderfully messy world; one where terrible things happen at the exact same time as great things.  And you need to deal with both.  And that is what infertile people who are struggling with the emotional side of infertility do every single day.  And that is what fertile people who need to deliver pregnancy announcements to emotionally-raw friends do every single day.

But just as my sadness can’t make you sad, your happiness can’t make me feel happy.  I understand that another person’s pregnancy announcement is a happy occasion, and I am happy for them (when it’s a real pregnancy and not a Facebook game).  But certainly, if I can’t expect them to feel sad about their pregnancy just because I’m infertile (and I shouldn’t — that person should feel only joy), why should I be expected to feel only happiness about their pregnancy, squelching any of my own feelings of sadness?  For this equation to work, it needs to be solvable in both directions.  And right now, some commenters expressed a desire for the compassion to only flow in one direction.  I am requesting that the compassion flow in all directions.

*******

I think the most telling part about this campaign is that the meme wasn’t about making up a phony cancer diagnosis to raise awareness.  People weren’t told to post that they had been diagnosed with cancer and had X many weeks of chemotherapy planned.  You know why?  Because we all know that would be cruel to do to the people who love us.  It would evoke strong responses in others, would obviously get people talking, but it would be COMPLETELY inappropriate and thoughtless.

Yet if we know that pretending to be dying would be in poor taste, why would it not be in poor taste to pretend to be creating life?  I guess I’m asking this of the people who support the meme — would you post a phony cancer diagnosis in order to raise awareness by getting people talking?  And if not, why not?

*******

Part of being a compassionate person is doing it even when you get nothing out of it.  Listening, even when you might not get heard.  Being caring, even when there is no friendship or familial relationship on the line.  And some commenters simply weren’t compassionate.  Perhaps that is the bane of social media — we forget that there are very real people on the other end of the computer because we can’t see them in the moment.  So maybe this can serve as a reminder: there are very real people reading our Facebook status updates who react to our news accordingly.  And there is a very real person writing this blog, and anything you wouldn’t say to my face, you shouldn’t say in my comment section.  If you would say some of the things you said in the comment section to my face, well, I think you know by this point in the post what that makes you.

The Veela in Harry Potter looked like ethereally gorgeous women when they were composed.  When their team was losing in the Quidditch World Cup, they revealed their ugly, beaky selves, throwing fire because they felt enraged at being attacked.  And that’s sort of what I saw with that last post — the difference between the two sides of the Veela, which I think exists inside all of us.  It’s always our choice whether we keep projecting our beauty or reveal our ugliness.  I saw that the vast majority of people choose to attempt to keep the world beautiful, to comfort when they see someone hurt, and to own their actions.  But I also saw a handful of assholes respond to that post — a post that was written with a strong emphasis on the “I” vs. the accusatory “You.”  For those who disagree, I’d ask you to highlight the points where I verbally attacked a group of people and email them to me.  I will happily eat my words if you can find a place where I belittled someone in that post.

I know some people posted about this on social media sites — either pointed out how the meme made them feel within a Facebook status update, or blogged about it, or linked to my last post about it on their Facebook page — and I’d like to hear the response you got.  Did you mostly get crickets from your friends and family when they read your Facebook status or saw the link to my post?  Did you get a great conversation going?  Were feelings mended?  Did you see anyone actually attempt to promote some true awareness for breast cancer?

And on the topic of being cruel, if people were taking the term “asshole” in this post to be a negative statement about their personality, I want to tell them that they’re overthinking this and reading too much into it.  I’m just having fun, and I’m actually referring to a body part, implying that you take things in as well as push things out.  I didn’t mean anything terrible by it.  Lighten up!*

Er… or is it only certain people who need to take things less seriously?  Is it different when something is happening to you vs. happening to other people?  So yes, I do apologize for facetiously calling you an asshole to make a point.  I obviously don’t know you, just as you don’t know me, therefore it’s impossible for either of us to make a true judgment about one another.  So I do apologize that I singled you guys out.  My only excuse is that sometimes we need to turn the mirror on the Veela so they can see exactly how they’re affecting the rest of the world.

And frankly, while this post is aimed specifically at the commenters on the last post, it’s what I think I’ll cut-and-paste from now on for a whole host of social media situations — from ridiculous memes on Facebook to the vitriolic comment section of the Huffington Post or the New York Times.

I’ll end with this: people are allowed to own their feelings, admit them and discuss them.  Denying another person’s feelings or belittling them for having them makes you a… well… you know.

* You may want to peruse the comment section on the last post if you don’t understand where this post is coming from.  Though I have a strong feeling that if you have spent any time on the Internet, you know exactly where this post is coming from even if you haven’t read my specific comment section.  I think at some point we’ve all observed the worst of the Internet (while simultaneously also observing its best).

A few friends announced their pregnancies this week.  I was thrilled for them even though… you know… it stings.  But genuinely thrilled nonetheless for them.

After this spate of pregnancy announcements, I saw a friend’s Facebook status later in the week.  She wrote that she was 22 weeks and craving a Slurpee.  And my heart literally froze as I read the words on the screen.  I had just seen this friend a week earlier.  She didn’t look pregnant, though I couldn’t remember what she was wearing.  Had she been wearing something flow-y that could hide a pregnancy?  Had she dropped hints?  Did she try to tell me and I literally didn’t hear her?  This wasn’t someone who was just sneaking into the second trimester, starting to tell people.  She was 22 weeks along, closer to delivery than she was to conception.

I spent fifteen minutes combing back through the last few months of her blog, looking for a tiny clue that she was pregnant, seeing if I had missed something when I declared Google bankruptcy.  There was nothing there.

But then I started wondering if all our other mutual friends knew.  If they had known for weeks and had kept it from me.  And I wondered if this friend saw me in the role of the broken bitch.  You know the role of the broken bitch — it’s a place of pity, but they also hate you for it.  It’s tiresome to have to walk around on eggshells around you, but at the same time, it’s just so sad that you can’t get pregnant.

And by that point, I was angry.  I was furious because I not only am genuinely happy for friends, but I am outwardly effusive about their pregnancies within reason (I mean, come on, your pregnancy, like your engagement or your house search, is interesting to others but it’s INTERESTING to you.  And you can’t expect everyone else to regard your news in all caps.  Lowercase needs to be acceptable).  I buy baby gifts.  I babysit.  I hold people’s babies.  I touch their stomach.  I hold in my tears until I can get to a bathroom and cry in private.  And what was the point of all of that — of stamping down my own hurt to be genuinely happy for another person — if I still got screwed in the end?

I spent most of the day alternating between sad and embarrassed and angry — this pu-pu platter of unhelpful emotions that stopped me from doing work.  I didn’t want to tell anyone that I didn’t know because I was so embarrassed that I read the news over Facebook when they had probably known for weeks.  I didn’t want to tell anyone because I was afraid that they would tell me that so many of our friends thought this about me; dreaded telling me their news and therefore held off doing so.  I get that it’s hard to tell it because I can tell you that from my end that it’s hard to hear it, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t say it so we can rip the bandaid off and get on to the part where I’m genuinely happy for you and plotting future cuddles with your future child.

And then I found out that she wasn’t pregnant.

Apparently, pretending that you’re pregnant as your Facebook status is supposed to somehow raise awareness for breast cancer.

Yes, nothing other than “how far along you are” and “what you’re craving” — no link to NIH’s page on breast cancer or the Mayo Clinic’s page; something, let’s say, helpful if you’re trying to find out more about breast cancer, you know, that disease that 1 in 8 women will be diagnosed with during their lifetime.  Literally, no information other than a pretend week count and a pretend craving.  And that is somehow supposed to raise awareness for breast cancer.

Well, it didn’t raise awareness for breast cancer.  I would hazard a guess that you didn’t learn anything about breast cancer if you saw one of those updates.  But what it did raise awareness for was — hopefully — infertility, and this is what you can take away from this: 7.3 million Americans are diagnosed with infertility.  That’s 11.8% of the child-bearing population.  Worldwide, it comes out to be about 10% of the child-bearing population.  It’s not that rare a situation.

We are your friends or family members.  You may see us in the carpool line at school (yes, you can have a child and be infertile, it’s called secondary infertility) or alone at the supermarket.  You can look at us and not even know that we have a disease of our reproductive organs because infertility doesn’t have outward signs of physical trauma.  We may have never shared with you what we’re going through, even though you may wonder why there is such a large age gap between our children or if we meant to remain childless or why our children don’t look like us.

This post should tell you a little bit about how we feel when we navigate the fertile world.  We know the rest of the world doesn’t need assistance to build their families, and we certainly don’t begrudge them that fact.  People who are infertile would never wish infertility on another person, so we’re thrilled that you’re not making the hard choices we have to make, enduring the treatments we have to endure, filling out the paperwork we have to fill out.  We’re thrilled that you do not have to experience all these various paths of invasiveness.

But we do.

So it would be wonderful if instead of pretending you’re pregnant on Facebook, you use that status update to raise some real awareness.  You can make it about the original intention — breast cancer — and provide factual information so more women know when to start getting mammograms, do self-breast exams, and what are warning signs where they should contact their doctor.  Or you can use your status to educate people about infertility if you learned something reading this post.  Perhaps you didn’t know that statistically 10% of your Facebook friends read that fake pregnancy status and went through the roller coaster of thoughts I went through.  That’s a fairly sizable chunk.

And that sensitivity can go a long way.  You expect it from us.  You expect us to ask about your pregnancy.  You expect us to attend your shower and drop off a meal and hold your baby.  It’s what a good friend does.  But we need that sensitivity to be a two-way street.  So now that you know that possibly 10% of your Facebook friends can’t build their families without assistance, can we please stop playing memes that don’t serve a real purpose; except to make hearts jump and make people doubt themselves.

Cozy Jackson endured many small, excited hands squishing him his first week in our house.  The twins brought in anyone and everyone to marvel at him, and he responded by giving me this continuous, imploring look as if to ask what the hell was happening between those hours of 4 — 8 pm.  During the day, he listened to me type and ate tiny bits of apple and carrot.  During the night, he frolicked around his cage (actually, I don’t know what the hell he does at night — I never hear him).  But from 4 — 8 pm, it is a constant barrage of children’s hands attempting to give him love.

One night, perhaps as a response to a particularly rough afternoon being over-loved by the neighbourhood, he backed himself into the corner and raised himself into a handstand.  He was practically vertical, his tiny feet pressing on two walls of glass about two inches above the cedar chip bedding.  I was marveling at his agility, impressed with the fact that he can so easily do a handstand when I find something as simple as turning a somersault to be nausea-inducing, when his tiny penis popped out like an oven timer in a plump chicken and he let out a stream of piss down the cage walls.  He lowered his legs and stared at me as if to say, “that’s what I think of your neighbourhood kids.”

Seriously, have you ever heard of a hamster peeing in a handstand position?  Is my hamster fantastically unique, ready for a solo in Cirque du Soleil?

I can feel myself bumping that thin line that divides sane pet owners from crazy hamster ladies (which is the less-work equivalent of the crazy cat lady).  I mused aloud one day that perhaps the twins would like to give up all their toys to make room for a few more hamster cages.  I purchased a tiny carrying case for Cozy so we can take him on the road.  I could see Cozy enjoying our next hiking trip or trying to chew a seashell on the beach.  Josh has warned me that we are not taking Cozy anywhere.

*******

The results from the poll are interesting, and I have some follow-up questions, so I’ll post that this weekend.  So if you haven’t yet voted, get on that by Saturday afternoon or so.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week as well as the week before.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Same and Different” (The Mud and the Lotus)

Kicking Your Collective Ass: One?  You only found one blog post worthy of directing everyone’s attention to read last week?  I had four and I could have posted more.  You have to do better this week.  There is a whole world of blog posts out there worthy of a little extra attention.

Okay, now my choices this week.

Les Terres Fertiles has a post about the choices we make with assisted family building.  About finding our own comfort zone with the myriad of decisions one needs to make about utilizing treatments or pursing adoption or choosing donor gametes.  I like this post for the raw honesty; for the exploration of the difficulty in making these decisions.

Mommy Odyssey has a post about how her biggest asset is now her liability.  She writes: “Why I can’t break free from this and just LIVE until we get our baby. I’ve realized that it’s something that’s ingrained in me. You see – I have this thing about me, which in the past I’ve viewed as an asset, but is now a liability. When I get my mind and heart set on something I go for it like a guided missile and don’t give up until I reach my goal.”  As someone who shares that trait with her, I found her post thought-provoking.  As well as deeply honest: she explains how this has affected her sex life and comes to a conclusion by the end that will probably have many people nodding.  One of the most helpful posts I’ve read in a long time.

First Time Twins has a post about Beyonce’s pregnancy.  I have to admit that this post was where I first learned that Beyonce was pregnant because I am so far behind on reading People magazine.  I’m still back in Charlie Sheen’s breakdown, in fact.  So this post was both informative AND funny, and I loved this thought directed at the media: “When I finally have a bump, would you be so kind as to send camera crews and thousands of audience members to my house to applaud and tell me how wonderful it is?  Because if it actually happens here, it’s an accomplishment worthy of some frikkin applause.”

Lastly, Finding My New Normal has a post about ending a friendship.  She writes: “In no time flat my feelings would get twisted in a way to make her the victim and me the crazy lady whose baby died and can’t be happy for anyone else. This is not what I want. So I’ve got some decisions to make.”  You can help her make these decisions by weighing in with your thoughts in her comment section.

The roundup to the Roundup: Cozy Jackson has settled into his new home and I am still deeply in love.  Results from the sitemeter poll coming soon.  And, of course, lots of great blog posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between August 26th and September 2nd) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.

Every time I go through airport security, I think about a blog post I read a year or two ago where the passenger stripped (and filmed herself with her camera phone) going through security as her protest to what she considered extreme measures on the part of the TSA.  I have to start by admitting that I don’t have any problem with airport security.  I don’t mind extra questioning, I don’t mind my bags being searched, I don’t mind having people peek at my panties through an x-ray machine.  It doesn’t offend me; it doesn’t freak me out.  I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it either.  It sort of just is and I accept that if I want to fly, it’s a part of flying.

I admire those who are offended by it who choose to protest, but it’s never going to be a fight I’ll take up because I think TSA does a fairly decent job.

I know a lot of people do have a problem with TSA and feel their rights are being violated whenever they fly.  It’s a matter of privacy — they have nothing to hide, but they don’t necessarily want TSA peeking at the vibrator in their bag.  It’s a matter of decency — they have no problem stripping down for the doctor, but they certainly don’t want a TSA employee peeking at their junk on a screen.

I think those feelings are valid too even if I don’t share them.

But that isn’t really what this post is about.

What I find interesting is when people raise a rebel yell about privacy in regards to flying (and a while back, when TSA introduced the new machines, there were a slew of articles and blog posts about privacy being violated), but they have sitemeter or statcounter or google analytics on their blog; all technology that negates another person’s privacy.

I say this without judgment — I have no problem with sitemeters (I’m going to use this term to collectively refer to all blog stat programs) — but it is a discrepancy that I think is worth a discussion.

Sitemeters and the TSA invade your privacy in much the same way.  In both cases, you are pretty much anonymous (I doubt the TSA agent remembers me five seconds later, and only the person who checks my ID knows my identity), though tiny facts are learned about you.

Without a sitemeter, if I came to your blog, read and left, you’d never know.  But with that technology, you know my IP address, you know where my service provider is located, you know how long I was on your site, which posts I clicked to read.  With some programs, you can label an IP address and start counting how often a certain person is on your site (though this is an imperfect system since most people read from multiple devices/places).

It is impossible to fly without having your privacy compromised by TSA, and it is impossible to surf the Web without having bits of your journey recorded by various sites.  It is one thing when I am a nameless entity interacting with another nameless entity such as Amazon.  They are not taking my choices personally.  It’s just a business; and keeping track of what I do on their site helps them hone their business.  The same thing with the TSA — I’m just a flyer.  Once they have checked me, they forget about me.

But blogs are different.  It is another thing when I am someone you know interacting with someone I know, such as… you.  Sometimes we do take other people’s choices personally.  Though I don’t believe I’ve ever had someone tell me that they thought I was on their site when I wasn’t; I have often encountered someone thinking that I wasn’t reading simply because they put too much stock in the abilities of their sitemeter.  And with a sitemeter, my IP address becomes linked to my email address and all other information that you know about me — something that big businesses can’t always do due to sheer volume of traffic.

I know some will be reading this and shaking their heads about this side of blogging.  I often shake my head when I think about the far-reaching arm of technology.  I also — akin to my feelings about the TSA — have little problem with having that side of my Internet privacy compromised.  I don’t mind if you know that I was on your site and didn’t comment.  I don’t mind if you see how long I spent (don’t judge; I’m a slow reader sometimes when I’m thinking).  I don’t mind if you look at the other posts that I clicked on to read.

I don’t love it; I don’t beg for it to happen, but I also understand that just as the TSA is doing so to keep me safe and not because they want to violate my privacy for the gleeful satisfaction of violating my privacy, most people spy on their readers not for the sake of keeping tabs on various people’s behaviours, but instead to learn something (fine tune their blog, see what people are interested in).

I am curious enough about where people stand on privacy issues that I created this poll below.

If you can’t see the embedded poll, you can also click here to fill it out on Google.  I’ll have the results of the poll in a post soon.

There may be those who wholeheartedly disagree that sitemeters are a violation of privacy on par with the TSA (and feel free to try to convince me — I want to discuss this).

But in both cases, the only way around having someone know many details about you is to opt not to participate — to either not fly or not use the Internet (and yes, there are private planes just as there are identity concealing ways to surf the Web, but I’m going with the general state of things vs. the outlying measures).  If you’re going to fly or surf the Web, there will be people peeking into your life.  Into your bags or into your Internet tendencies.  And while I don’t have a problem either with the TSA employee seeing that I’m reading Harry Potter yet again or have you see that I just read your most recent post, I often wonder why people have a problem with one thing while actively engaging in the other.

Is curiosity — assuming that is the driving force behind having a sitemeter — more noble than perceived safety (since the point of TSA is to protect travelers regardless of whether or not you agree that it works)?

Welcome back to IComLeavWe. It stands for International Comment Leaving Week, but if you say it aloud, doesn’t it sounds like “I come; [but] leave [as a] we”? And that’s sort of the point. Blogging is a conversation and comments should be honoured and encouraged. I like to say that comments are the new hug–a way of saying hello, giving comfort, leaving congratulations.

Here is the vital information, pure and simple (a more detailed set of rules follows below the list):

• The list opens the 1st of every month. It remains open until the 21st. You can add yourself at any point. The list is open to everyone in the blogosphere — blog writers and/or blog readers.
• Add yourself to the list by filling out this form: The list is now closed.  The October list will open on the 29th.
• Click here to cut-and-paste this bit of code to add to your sidebar (if you have the old code from another month, remove it and replace it with this one). You need to add the icon or a link to the current list on your blog (see below) and will not be added until it’s up.
• Commenting kicks off every month on the 21st. Please mark it somewhere (calendar, post-it note taped to your computer…), though I will be sending out an email reminder on the 20th. Commenting week runs from the 21st to the 28th. Every day, leave 5 comments and return 1 comment for a total of 6 comments. You are highly encouraged to choose the blogs you comment on from the participants list below, but this is not required.
• I will send a second email on the 28th to remind you to remove the icon from your blog.
• Read below if you want to find out about Iron Commenters.
• The commenting ends on the 28th. We catch our breath and the whole thing starts again the next month on the 1st. Drop in and out according to what is happening in your life between the 21st and the 28th.

1. Stirrup Queens (twins, books, writing)
2. Eggs In A Row (pcos, infertility, coping)
3. Adoption Adventures and More (adoption, infertility, endometriosis)
4. Mommy Odyssey (rpl, ectopic pregnancy (left tube removed! I’m infertile-chic!), generally crazy)
5. kate; uncensored (life, relationships, struggles)
6. The Unbroken World (infertility, pregnancy, life)
7. My Infertility Story (infertility, coping, peace)
8. Four of a Kind (parenting, secondary infertility, loss)
9. First Time Twins (IVF, infertility, miscarriage)
10. Hobbit-ish Thoughts & Ramblings (parenting after losses, ttc #2, cooking)
11. Trying for a baby (FET #2, endometriosis, IF)
12. Wistfulgirl’s World (infertility, adoption, Dad’s death)
13. Creating a Family (infertility, adoption, adoptive parenting)
14. Dragondreamer’s Lair (parenting, secondary infertility, crafts)
15. Ambition: motherhood (mfi, diui, early pregnancy)
16. Finding My New Normal (stillbirth, donor egg, infertility)
17. Here We Go Again (parenting, random, babyloss)
18. Cablearms (art, life, miscarriages)
19. Tippy & Tidy’s Tumultuous Trip To Toddlers (TTC#1, unexplained, donor eggs)
20. Donor Diva: Mother via Egg Donation (egg donation, parenting)
21. MissConception  (twins, IVF, PCOS)
22. Lifeslurper (donor eggs, over forty, IVF)
23. The Days of Our Lives (infertility, adoption, faith)
24. Flogging the Muse (art, painting, creativity)
25. This International Life (travel, expat life, Germany)
26. Mommy-In-Waiting (pregnant, twins, IVF#4)
27. The Rocky Road to Motherhood (life after IVF)
28. EndoandBeyond  (infertility, miscarriage, food)
29. Trying not to scream (first IVF, infertility, loss)
30. A Miracle in the Works (autoimmune issues, infertility, ttc#1 after a loss)
31. Where Do We Go From Here? (infertility, pcos, family)
32. Meier Madness (pcos, iui, keeping sane-ish)
33. Feeling Beachie (life, humor, family)
34. Rasta Less Traveled (FET, surrogacy in India, egg donor)
35. Unglamorous (TTC #2, toddler, musings)
36. The 2 Week Wait (infertility, pregnancy, humor)
37. Bring on the Babies… (ivf, recurrent pregnancy loss, miscarriage)
38. Walking an Unknown Path (unexplained infertility, miscarriage, life)
39. My Lady of the Lantern (neonatal loss, grief, pregnant again)
40. Sybil and Alex (ivf#2, pcos, furbaby)
41. Then Comes the Baby in the Baby Carriage (TTC #1, TCM, chemical pregnancy)
42. Becoming Parents (raging undiagnosed infertile)
43. Annoyed Army Wife (IVF #1, humor/sarcasm, army life)
44. Living Our Miracle (embryo adoption, infertility)
45. Searching for Serendipity (infertility, wellness, food)
46. A Page In My Book (IF grad, family, humor)
47. Zero Guarantees (suro, pregnant, twins)
48. all i ever wished for… (ivf #3, 2ww, life)
49. Trying To Conceive (pregnancy after IVF, emotions, venting)
50. Hearts Joined, Hands Fast (pregnant, ivf, mfi)
51. Mommy Forward (adoption, self-improvement, faith)
52. Created Family (unexplained infertility, IUI #1, grad school)
53. Lose to Gain (ivf, intuitive eating, thyroid)
54. Colours of Cattiz (ivf#2, male factor, uk)
55. The Ladies in Waiting Book Club (infertility, books, community)
56. It’s Him, Me, and Our One Day Baby (infertility, egg donor, love)
57. AFM (parenting after loss, miscarriage, defense life)
58. Hoping Lightning Will Strike Twice (secondary IF, family)
59. Yolk: A blog about eggs and sperm (pregnant, humour, infertility)
60. IUI to Roux-en-Y (weight loss, surgery, my journey)
61. Bohemian Transplant (infertility, pregnancy, recipes)
62. Baby Bump Envy (infertility, endometriosis, miscarriage)
63. Whitney & Erick (RPL, miscarriage, adoption?)
64. Taking the Long Way (rpl; anxiety over current pregnancy; third trimester)
65. Rainbow Making 101 (miscarriage, IUI, 2WW)
66. Of Seeds and Thorns (recent graduate, random thoughts, recipes)
67. Infertile in a Fertile Land (journey hope waiting)
68. Weathering the Storm (adoption, waiting, life)
69. I’m Just Ducky, Thanks (FET, recurrent loss, adoption)
70. A Year On… Our New Beginning {hopefully} (stillbirth, secondary IF, IVF)
71. A Greater Yes (embryo adoption, parenting, infertility)
72. I’m Very Far Away  (expat, IVF, FET)
73. The Stork Drop Zone (infertility, humor, life)
74. The Barreness (infertility, art, insight)
75. Too Many Fish To Fry (infertility, advocacy, joy)
76. Miss(ed)Conception (IVF mommy)
77. I Was Told There Would Be Pajamas (babies, marriage, b.s.)
78. World of My Imagination (writing, inspiration, distraction)
79. BattleFish (ttc, FET #2, life)
80. wannabee (adoption, loss, craftiness)
81. Thus is the life (infertility,TTC#2, faith)
82. From IF to When (international adoption, newbie, humor)
83. A peek into our journey (IVF #2 2ww, humor)
84. Cinderella Wore Glass Slippers (FET, pregnant (finally!), life)
85. Our New Plan A (high-risk UU pregnancy)
86. Bridgit’s Beehive (twins, preemies)
87. Fertile in God’s Timing (infertility, treatment, emotions)
88. Searching for the Missing Piece (domestic adoption, RPL, life)
89. Life in the White House (donor sperm, life, pregnancy)
90. Les Terres Fertiles (unexplained infertility journey)
91. In Due Time (life, infertility, miscarriage)
92. Life’s Everyday Adventures (everyday life, randomness)
93. Embracing the Rain (mthfr, dor, rpl)
94. Holly’s Narrative Dream (secondary infertility, coping, life)
95. Notes From The Ninth Circle (insurance, stalled, frustration)
96. The list is now closed.  The October list will open on the 29th

Q: What if I miss a day?

A: Catch up the next day by doubling your comments – 12 comments instead of 6.

Q: What if I have two blogs? Can I sign up twice, listing both blogs?

A: Yes, but you also need to double your comments. If you have two blogs listed, you should be leaving 12 comments per day.

Q: What is an Iron Commenter?

A: Not for the faint-of-heart. People who wish to be an Iron Commenter and be entered on the Iron Commenter honour roll need to leave a comment on every blog on the participants list (exceptions are blogs that require you to have a special log-in, such as some LiveJournal accounts or other similar situations). You can spread out this commenting any way you wish over the whole week, but the final comment needs to be left by midnight on the 28th (EST). Reaching Iron Commenter status is done on an honour system. Please email me if you earn Iron Commenter status so I can add you to the wall of honour.

Q: Why do I have to add that bit of code to my sidebar?

A: The code is the latest icon (the icon changes colour every month so you know that you’re on the right list). This month, the icon is red, the next month it will be yellow, etc. The reason is two-fold: (1) it enables more people to find out about IComLeavWe and (2) it gives you easy access to the current list once the commenting week actually begins and better ensures that you’ll use it. Too many times, people sign up and forget to actually do IComLeavWe and this icon gives you a daily reminder (with the dates on it) every time you open your own blog. The icon is linked back to the current list. On the 28th, remove the icon from your blog. A new one will be created for the next month.

Q: It’s the 23rd and I just saw this for the first time on my friend’s blog! I want to join the list–why can’t I?

A: Because IComLeavWe happens every month, once the list is closed, it’s closed. If you’re finding out about this on the 23rd, you can’t join the current month. But leave yourself a note to check back in a week on the 1st and you can sign up for the next month.

Q: You said the list closes on the 21st. Well, it’s still the 21st where I am. Why aren’t you moving my information onto the list?

A: All dates and times are U.S. Eastern Standard Time (UTC/GMT -5 hours). The list closes around 11 p.m. EST on the 21st.

Q: What if no one comments on my blog and I have no comments to return?

A: Well, that really doesn’t happen for the most part, but in that case, simply choose another blog and add an additional comment. The goal is to hit 6 comments daily as a minimum. Going over that is fantastic and encouraged.

Q: Mel, my question wasn’t covered at all. What do I do?

A: Email me; I’m quite friendly. It helps to place “IComLeavWe” in the subject line. You could also check this post which contains the history of IComLeavWe and see if you can glean anything there.

Looking for the comment section? It has been closed on this post. Use the form in the directions to add yourself to the list.