This is my first month joining ICLW and I’m loving getting to meet all of these amazing bloggers. However, whenever I read a blog like A Little Pregnant or Stirrups Queen, or Built In Birth Control, I feel like an imposter. I feel guilty when people find my blog from comments left on those blogs – and are confronted with pictures of my smiling baby. What am I doing, reading and commenting on these infertility blogs, when I am not (as far as I know) infertile?
I read infertility blogs because I feel a kinship for these women, even though I have been spared their struggles.
I grew up knowing myself to be a child of infertility. My parents were married for eight years before I was born, and I was told that they “sought professional help” in order to have me. My mother would occasionally apologize for not giving me siblings (one of seven children, my mother has always felt that you need siblings to be normal).
As a child I assumed that the problem lay with my father, because they would never go into details. I thought that my mother may not have felt comfortable discussing sperm counts and testicles with her 10 year old. As I grew older, I began to get the sense that the problems laid on my mother’s side. But I didn’t know, because my mother got vague and changed the subject whenever I asked about it. Could this be something I might inherit?
In other words, unlike many women, I never took it for granted that I would be able to have children with ease. I grew up being aware that some people struggle to have their children.
I can only think of two children’s movies that portray infertile mothers, and those are Dumbo, and Pixar’s Up. If you haven’t watched Dumbo since childhood, it’s time you did. It’s heartbreaking to watch Mrs Jumbo reach hopefully for each bundle of joy, only to see it drop into some one else’s arms. Voiceless, wistful, hoping, waiting, she longs for her own baby and wonders why he is so long in coming.
When he does finally arrive, he isn’t perfect. Though he is beautiful in her eyes, her friends see him as a freak: worse than no baby at all.
How many mothers have adopted a child over seas only to find that their friends don’t throw them a shower, or that their parents don’t treat the child like a “real” grand child? How many mothers have held their precious Down Syndrome baby, only to recieve commiserations instead of congratulations?
Then, when she rises up to protect her son from the cruelty of the world, he is taken away from her entirely. She is declared insane, locked away, and her little baby that she longed for weeps alone with no one left who loves him.
Tell me, what mother in the world wouldn’t weep over Mrs. Jumbo’s experiences? Do you need to have been infertile to imagine the yearning? The love? The loss? I didn’t. Even as a child, I felt the pain of Mrs. Jumbo’s story.
I believe infertility and child loss are topics that belong to all women. It could strike any of us, any time, but we keep it shrouded in secrecy and shame. While Michael J. Fox speaks out for Parkinson’s Disease, and Michael Douglas goes on talk shows to discuss his throat cancer, 45 year old movie stars pop out sets of twins and insist that conception was totally natural. They surround infertility with shame when they could be spreading awareness.
The desire to become a mother, the physical need to have a baby, is something that cannot be described to someone who has not yet felt the urge. Anyone who has felt the urge can comprehend the pain of an infertile couple who are still waiting for their baby.
I have felt the urge since I was 17 years old and fell in love with my Baby Think It Over. He was supposed to teach me about the horrors of motherhood, so I would use birth control (hardly a worry since I had never even been kissed at that point, and wouldn’t be for two more years). Instead I named him Jan Sebastian, cuddled him as much as possible, dressed him in a very cute sweater, carried him instead of lugging him in his plastic car seat, and asked the teacher if I could keep him.
She rolled her eyes. “There’s one in every class…” she laughed. Everyone else hated the damn thing.
In university a friend gave me a Baby Chou Chou doll, and I would cuddle her in her terry cloth footie pyjamas when I felt especially sad. The curve of a baby’s body on my shoulder satisfied some inner yearning that I could not explain.
Then, after university, I went through a serious breakup with my boyfriend of many years, and started over again with Perfect Husband. Even after we got married, that bout with depression held off my reproductive aspirations for another year. I wanted my children. I physically missed them – people I had never met, but whose projections followed me everywhere, asking me why water boiled and marvelling at statues in the Louvre.
On my 27th birthday, a coworker who was only two years older than me gave birth to her second child. Instead of a birthday lunch, we went to see my coworker and her new baby in the hospital. That night I wrote the following in my journal:
There’s just something about holding a newborn that feels… right. Like having PH at my side or a dog at my feet, it makes me feel somehow more whole. I marvel at the tinyness, at how someone born just yesterday, with barely one Earth rotation under his belt, can have such perfectly formed finger nails. Holding a newborn baby should have been a special birthday treat for me, but it really felt more like a cruel tease. I nearly wept with jealousy.
… it makes me ache that even though PH and I want desperately to start our family today… all “logic” says that we should wait, enjoy our freedom, pay off student loans and improve our careers until we can afford more happiness to sacrifice.
In my heart, I feared that infertility would prolong my wait for babies. I was afraid that I would become a Mrs. Jumbo, always reaching out to hold someone else’s baby, and always wishing I could be holding my own. I was so sure that I would have fertility problems that it took me a while to really believe that I was pregnant when it finally happened.
I am grateful for my son every moment of every day. Even when he’s screaming. Even when he has a poosplosion. I hold him close and kiss his tiny mouth and feel so grateful that I finally got my baby… and every day my heart aches for the women who are still waiting for theirs.
When I sing to him, I sing him “Baby Mine”.
and I read infertility blogs so that I can tell them that I understand… as much as is possible for someone who is not, herself, infertile.
Jessica said:
I would NEVER be able to sing Baby Mine. I practically dissolve into tears just thinking about it.
Lovely post, dear.
IfByYes said:
Oh man, singing that to my baby when I was all Baby Blues-y, it was a sob fest.
Ditto for the times I’ve read “Love You Forever” to him.
Jeannie Chiasson said:
Oh this post got me all teared up. I’m so hopeful but so afraid that I’ll have to deal with trying and not being able to have babies. The more we wait, the more I worry that it’ll never happen. And like you said, it seems like our society finds “fault” with people who are unable to have babies, like they did something wrong rather than having something terrible happen to them that they have no control over.
IfByYes said:
I know. People seem to look down on in vitro fertilization, not realizing that most people aren’t Octomoms, but just people who want babies.
I’m sure infertile couples constantly hear ‘why don’t you just adopt?” from people… people who all have their own, biologically related children.
Eleanor said:
Dumbo is the saddest movie – I’ve only seen it once, when I was little, but I just remember it being heart-breaking. The two clips I watched from the blog were just as heart-breaking as I recall the movie being.
This was a lovely post.
IfByYes said:
It’s SUCH a sad movie. They couldn’t make a movie that sad for children anymore (not to mention that also Dumbo gets drunk). Hell, they complained about Finding Nemo because the mother was killed.
shelly said:
that sad… or racist:)
IfByYes said:
That too.
Rebecca said:
Ugh, this post totally got me teary eyed…I had forgotten about Dumbo and wow now after our infertility struggles I don’t know if I could watch it I’d be so emotional seeing it with my current perspective! I think it’s wonderful you are supportive of others infertility struggles & am glad you haven’t had to endure that journey yourself. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful post! Happy ICLW:)
IfByYes said:
The first time I watched it as an adult I was blown away by my new perspective – definitely one to avoid if you don’t want to weep.
Ordinary Girl said:
This is my first ICWL as well and I posted a very similar thought on my blog about wondering how those still seeking their baby feel about me dropping into their lives. I am a part of the infertility world and have experienced their pain first hand and yet I still feel like a bit of an impostor now. I want to be there to support them but am worried about bringing them more heartache. I think it’s wonderful that you have such a connection to this community and can see it in a way that most people cannot. You have an understanding that is hard to find in someone who isn’t “infertile” themselves. And, I also sing Baby Mine to my little Bean. I sang it to her when she was in my belly and the first time I sang it to her when she was in my arms I was a broken down sobbing mess by the end. I just couldn’t believe she was really mine, and I also feel so lucky to have her every day, in every single moment. I’m so glad I came across your post today. Thank you!
IfByYes said:
I wish I could just go around like Santa, handing babies to people who want them. If there was a real Stork, I would take that job in a heartbeat.
flanagusen said:
Thank you. Just, thank you for writing this. I’m sitting here crying because I feel sometimes like the only one who wants a baby so badly, and I already love my babies-to-be so, so much even though try as we might, I can’t seem to get pregnant. It’s so lovely to know that there is somebody out there who understands exactly what I’m going through even though our situations are so different.
IfByYes said:
*hug* hang in there. I really believe your babies are coming. They’re just… delayed.
Dumbo’s stork turned out to be hopelessly lost, but he arrived eventually.
shelly said:
that is so true… delayed is the perfect word for it.
i will go to sleep tonight thinking of each and everyone of you that is having difficulties conceiving tonight. well not that you’re having troubles tonight, but i’ll think of you tonight… you know what i mean. i will send you fertile thoughts.
IfByYes said:
Thinking about couples trying to conceive TONIGHT is a totally different kind of thought 😀
Allie said:
Oh my gosh! *Weep* *Snivel* *Sob* Just thinking about Dumbo and the consuming desire to have a baby make me all a-teary. Good post, bravo. Very emotional.
Curiosity said:
I have never watched Dumbo as an adult. Wow. That’s tragic. My heart goes out to elephants and people alike. I can’t imagine how heartbreaking that situation would be.
shorty said:
A powerful post!
Happy ICLW
Leigh said:
I’ve never seen Dumbo as an adult, and now I don’t think I can. Baby Mine always makes me cry anyway. I would be a bundle of tears. UP was horrid. Love the movie, but cried *heavy sobbing* through the first part…in the theater. People were staring!
Awesome post, btw!
IfByYes said:
Up always makes me cry too. PH doesn’t cry, of course, because men NEVER cry, y’know, but he does get “a bit of emotion” in his eye whenever we watch that scene.
SuzRocks said:
I’ve never watched Dumbo as an adult either. I remember nothing about it. I’m afraid to now.
I read a lot of mommy/parenting blogs and I have no children…nor will I start trying for a while. But I know when I do, I’ll be prepared. And if I can’t have them, then I know also where to go to find some support. The internet is amazing!!
IfByYes said:
It really is!
Square Peaches said:
That movie makes me cry every time… but then I tend to be a sentimental sap.
When it came time to start a family, difficulty in conceiving never crossed my mind. That’s the naivete of youth, I guess. Turns out I didn’t have problems getting pregnant; it was staying pregnant that turned out to be the issue. After my first ectopic pregnancy, I was absolutely devastated. It was the first time my body had “failed” me…
I did go on to have two beautiful daughters. And another ectopic… that finally took my tube with it. I understand the joy, the fear, the hope, and the dread every time I took that test and the anger that I felt that my body could not do what was supposed to come so naturally.
And it makes me that much more thankful for the children I was able to have.
IfByYes said:
Ugh, I’m sorry, that must have been very difficult. Thank you for sharing your story.
A Field of Dreams said:
Thank you for stopping by my blog. I loved reading your post. From a woman who has experienced infertility for 6 years and then finally got her miracle, I don’t mind at all that you peruse and comment on IF blogs. If anything a person experiencing IF only wants to be reassured, given support, hope and strength. I still frequent IF blogs, some I have become close friends with. They always reply back that they appreciate my support. It’s great to see regardless that someone has commented on posts, it doesn’t matter from where they came from.
P.S I have never seen Dumbo! Your description of it makes me want to see it.
ICLW #46
IfByYes said:
That’s good to hear, thank you!
Hope said:
Thanks so much for posting your story. I have stumbled across your blog before (probably through your comments on blogs I read), but not knowing you’re story, I did wonder why you were reading IF blogs. I really appreciate knowing where you’re coming from. I think it’s wonderful that you can be so supportive of the IF community, even though fertility hasn’t been an issue for you.
And I’d like to offer a suggestion. Take it for what it’s worth. I always look at people’s about pages to find out what their connection to the ALI community is, if it’s not obvious. A permanent link to this post, either on your about page or in your sidebar, might help people who find your blog through comments to understand where you’re coming from. Just a thought . . .
ICLW #32
IfByYes said:
Thanks, maybe I’ll do that!
Wombat Central said:
Soo glad I’ve never seen Dumbo or shown it to my super sensitive kids (one of whom sobbed over scenes in Toy Story 3). I don’t get the need for that kind of material in a kids’ movie, but what do I know?
Having had trouble conceiving, I understand the bittersweet feeling when hearing of yet another pregnant friend. The dreading of attending one. more. baby shower. when you don’t have your own baby to shower with love. Well written as usual, IfByYes! 🙂
@flagnusen, hang in there, doll. I’m sending baby vibes your way!
IfByYes said:
I think I cried over Toy Story 3 as well. I’ve been even weepier since Babby was born, too. Even Skittles commercials bring a tear to my eye.
Traxy said:
A beautiful blog post and it makes you think about a number of things. As a side effect, it made me realise something with regards to the post you made about introversion the other day, and it highlights a very important difference between us with regards to that question. You probably cope quite well with a baby because you had the experience with the doll and you thrived on it and couldn’t wait to become a mum. But anyway. I enjoy reading about you and babby, nonetheless. Makes motherhood seem less scary, in a way. 🙂
IfByYes said:
The funny thing is that I’ve never been a doll person. Had no interest in dolls as a kid. I was all about the stuffed animals and transformers. But I guess I’ve never been a girly girl. A simulated baby was totally different!
Natalie said:
I love this. Thank you.
thesaltedtomato said:
This was a beautiful post. I am (now not so) secretly terrified I will be infertile, unreasonably so because my mother (as far as I know) had two very healthy pregnancies late in her 30’s. Still, I’ve had certain health problems and the doctor’s have alluded that I may have difficulty conceiving. I always say “if” I have kids instead of “when,” just so I don’t tempt fate and jinx myself. And I say I’m not superstitious… Clearly I lie. 😛
IfByYes said:
If you want children, children you shall have. Absolute worst case scenario, I surrogate for you, or you adopt. I bet there are tons of Indian orphans who need good homes.
Jay said:
I just discovered your blog today, and after reading this post, I know I’m going to be hooked. This was beautiful.
IfByYes said:
Thank you, and welcome!
m.g. said:
Okay I’m a little late here. Just found this blog while googling around looking for other infertility blogs to link my own up with.
Your words here are so powerfully beautiful.
Thank you.
That is all.
IfByYes said:
Thank you for stopping by!
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