I love my body. I really do. Except. You know. My stomach. It’s really big. And my thighs. They’re really wide. And my ass. It’s strangely shaped. But I love my body. Except. You know. I’m short.

Okay, class, what is wrong with all of these comments? Anyone? Anyone? I’m talking shit about my body…well, yes, that’s true. But the reason why I’m talking shit about my body is actually the larger issue. Because every statement above is a comparative term. Big–how can you know what is big unless you know what is small? Wide–how can you know what is wide unless you know what is narrow? Strangely shaped? Who is to say what is normal vs. strange? And where is the cut-off that makes someone tall vs. someone short?

If this were a commercial, I would be half-spitting/half-crying while I confronted a gaggle of supermodels–I learned it from watching you!

Which isn’t entirely true. The supermodel may be the face of the campaign, but the general media created the campaign. And it does a lot of damage because it is human nature to absorb and incorporate what we see or hear into our own vision of the world. Stick a child in a violent home and they will absorb violence. Tell a girl she is beautiful and she will believe it until the day that she starts absorbing these societal ideals of beauty (studies usually put the age as six). Run several news stories sensationalizing infertility and you wonder why the general public thinks we’re a bunch a raving lunatics.

This is the only way I can compare it. My rational me knows that I’m falling into the media’s trap when I judge my body. My rational me knows that I shouldn’t care if my stomach isn’t flat because flat does not mean perfect. Flat simply means flat. And some stomachs are flat and others are nicely rounded. And it means nothing. And the ideals of beauty are defined by the culture–not the general world population. Therefore, my round stomach is beautiful elsewhere. And the rational me knows this. But. I can’t help but feel like crap about my body, feel self-conscious about my body, drap my arm awkwardly across my stomach to hide the bump. Because it’s so ingrained. You’re bombarded with information to make you feel ashamed about your unique body. So you over-ride your rational side and feel self-conscious.

Which is the same thing that happens to people who love us. They hear about infertility and they see us struggling and they see the devastation. But they get a message from the media that we’re bleeding lunatics and baby-crazy. They take the concept of “medical” out of this medical condition and make it something controllable. A personality quirk. And that’s where I think many of the rude statements come from. The “just relax” and the “take a vacation” and the “have more sex” and the “you can always adopt.” Because the non-infertile’s rational side can see that you’re grieving and anxious and frustrated and (in some cases) in physical pain. But the non-infertile’s media-enriched side is remembering this image of “infertile as crazy.”

Hence these two media stories this week:

If you haven’t yet seen this, click here to watch a video on MSN News about infertilty and the under-30 crowd (thank you, Carolyn and my dad for sending it along). The first problem is that whoever wrote this can’t seem to stick to their own angle. They want to reveal those petulant, pouty twenty-somethings who are jumping into IVF just because they can’t wait to have a baby. Oh…and we hope you miss this fact and we’re sticking it at the end of the broadcast…but this woman actually does have a problem. That needs attention. If she’s not ovulating, how does the reporter think she is going to have a child without help?

I am all for not jumping into hysterics (what am I talking about? I’m all for everyone-who-isn’t-me not jumping into hysterics) and giving it a bit of time–if all seems fine. But why would you wait something out if you know there is a problem? Just to see? If it clears up on its own? And while I would believe it if they said that there are frantic twenty-somethings who are demanding Clomid and getting it (because I know this problem exists), I highly doubt that swarms of twenty-somethings are enduring IVF for no reason. And that they can find REs to perform IVF (and seriously, as Carolyn says, if this is true, why isn’t the RE accountable for not turning down this patient?).

Which is to say that it is possible to be under 30 and have trouble conceiving–a fact that this broadcast wishes to sweep under the rug. And these shows make women feel guilty or second-guess themselves. Why should they have respect for their own bodies if the media is essentially mocking them? Because there are women with actual problems (that they know are problems) who are going to watch that program and not get the help they need because they think they need to stick to the guideline of one-year-of-trying. And the people who are supposed to be there supporting them now have an image of an infertile person as crazy. As baby obsessed. As impatient.

And (AGAIN) I am all for the one-year rule if you have no known issues. But what do you do when you notice things are wrong by month four? Just ignore it for the next eight months? And some of this just smacks of sexism to me. Hysterical women with their floating uteruses (what do you think is the etymology of the word “hysterical”?). Call me a bleeding heart Gloria Steinem, but if men ask for a semen analysis before a year, are they labeled as hysterical and baby-crazy? Or just medically savvy? Or just being a self-advocate?

The other story is the one about the abducted baby who was returned to her mother today. Shannon Beck, grieving woman who lost her child late in her pregnancy, abducted a week-old child and tried to pass it off as her own. And my heart goes out to that mother–it truly does. I think we can all recognizing that holding another woman at knifepoint and taking her child is wrong. But it’s the way Shannon Beck is portrayed in the media that is damaging. Each article refers to the police profile they created while searching for the culprit (and how often do you read about the police profile in a news story AFTER they have captured the perpetrator? Truly–think about this fact for a moment. I’m not saying while they’re still searching for the perpetrator and enlisting the help of the general public. This report came out AFTER Shannon Beck was arrested).

“The abductor had been profiled as someone whose child had died recently, or as someone who could not have children, but had told people she was pregnant and needed to steal a child so her lie would not be found out” (The Washington Post, September 20, 2006).

Again, infertile woman as crazy. As a liar. As someone desperate. And if the perpetrator had turned out to be a serial killer who was a mother of three–would we have ever known the profile the police had created? Probably not. But because they were correct, they needed to let us know that they were correct in their assessment. And because it takes any sympathy away from Shannon Beck. She steals. She lies. Therefore, the public can conclude that she deserves to be punished for her crime.

And I’m not saying that she didn’t commit a crime. There should be consequences for her crime. But where are the nets in society that catch a woman who is grieving this deeply? And why do we have to throw more judgement at her? Why can’t she be tried off the pages of the newspaper. In a court. Without the judgemental language creating an image of infertile woman as insane. As baby-obsessed. As fucking desperate.

When I enter my anxiety zone, my husband gives me a limit on my daily what ifs. But just because he allots how many hypothetical situations he’s willing to address doesn’t mean that I stop thinking about them. You may lead the conversation, but you’ll never lead my mind! This is the point in the comic strip when the voice bubble states high-pitched cackling indicating that (1) the speaker is the winner or (2) the speaker is incredibly fucked in the head.

Let’s guess which one I am.

This is what is on my mind today: the endless abyss of what ifs you can fall into during treatments. It began when I read Serenity’s post about what ifs yesterday. She’s in a much better space today after some yoga and visualization (Serenity–your boy sounds beautiful. Hold onto that image). Then, I was reading Falker’s book and she had a long argument about day-3 or day-5 transfers that didn’t (1) come down on either side as preferable but (2) introduced a whole new world of what ifs.

What if you transfer on day-3 and end up using too many embryos and need to do selective reduction (because, if I am going through IVF and paying $10,000 minimum, I am not going to transfer one embryo. Now, if the insurance company wants to provide full coverage for IVF, I would be quite happy to have my embryo transfer capped. But as long as I have limited chances due to finances, we are giving each one the best shot possible). What if you try to wait until the embryos go to blast and end up losing all of them (and by the way–don’t think that Falker didn’t point out how cultures are still behind uteruses in terms of quality. Oh, and another by the way, you can use either uteruses or uteri–I looked it up because I’m literally that anal)? What if what if what if.

Some (like, perhaps, my husband who has to live with me) would tell me to stop reading. But not having information doesn’t stop the what ifs. The what ifs only stop when everything falls into place and all of your fears are not realized. What ifs without reading are perhaps even scarier what ifs because you come to a realization that you don’t even know the right questions to ask.

And I’m not saying that what ifs control my whole day. There are even full days where no what ifs exist. Those are usually the ones where there are no decisions to be made. But when you feel like you’re walking through a minefield, you pay attention to every step. Because you don’t want to have regrets. You don’t want to look back and wish you had taken a different route. And there are days where I can do my Domar exercises and imagine the ocean waves coming onto the beach. But there are also days where I start thinking about how every decision affects a possible outcome. And…frankly…it makes me long for a lack of choices.

But then I think if I had all choices taken away, I would go equally crazy.

And then there is what if’s equally frustrating cousin, could it be. Could it be is what happens during the entire two week wait (could that twinge be a sign? Could that blood be implantion bleeding? Could I be pregnant?), but she is currently rearing her ugly head as I try to sort out where I stand in order to make the best choice. Could I have a clotting disorder? Could I have decent FSH levels (okay, not bloody likely, but…still…when you haven’t had a day 3 drawn for a while, you start hoping that things have somehow changed. For the better. Even though I know these things go up instead of down)? Could we pull the money and resources together for adoption? Could could could.

Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s just summer closing and the transition of fall (which is actually my favourite season). But sometimes I wake up in the what ifs. And then I spend the day with the could it bes. And then I get into bed at night and think about the what ifs. I need to stop saying that I’m going to try yoga and actually get a video and start trying yoga. My Rosh Hashanah resolution (that’s New Year’s for all my non-Jewish friends…)?

This list is just getting started! I’ve also create a book icon and link to the list on my side bar for when it starts slipping down into the valley of lost posts…

Keep adding books into the comments section below. I’ll update this post frequently, moving the books from the comments section into the correct category. Please post other comments as well–books you think should be taken off the list or books that need a second cheerleader shouting out good things.

Last thought–like the blogroll, most of these books fit into more than one category. Therefore, I placed them where they seemed to fit best.

General Infertility

• Resolving Infertity by Diane Aronson and the Staff of Resolve (the “Bible” of infertility books, this covers everything from the various hormones utilized in reproduction, tests and procedures, and lastly, your emotions).
• The Infertility Survival Handbook by Elizabeth Swire Falker (a great companion to Resolving Infertility. It gives you an insider’s view of tests and procedures while touching upon other paths to parenthood).
• What to Expect When You Are Experiencing Infertility by Debby Peoples (written in a Q & A format that addresses questions both medical and emotional in nature).
• How to Get Pregnant by Sherman Silber (A fact-based book, with a good explanation of the basics of human reproduction, what can go wrong, which treatments are currently in vogue, and the author’s expert opinion on these treatments).
• Without Child: Experiencing and Resolving Infertility by Ellen Sarasohn Glazer and Susan Lewis Cooper (though some of the information is dated, it does have many first-hand accounts by men–something lacking in other infertility books).
• Everything Conceivable by Liza Mundy (a behind the scenes look at reproductive technology and where science is heading).

Adoption

• *Adopting After Infertility by Patricia Irwin Johnston (the stuff other adoption books forget to say: instead of focusing on the how-to of adoption, this book covers the secret questions you ask yourself along the journey and helps you understand that you’re not alone as you make your decisions). *This book went out of print in 2007. The new version is…
• Adopting: Sound Choices, Strong Families by Patricia Irwin Johnston (From the Perspectives Press website: “If you’ve been struggling with infertility issues, are a single person or a partner in a same-sex family, chances are adoption has come up in your thinking about a means of building your family. Perhaps you’ve thought a little, perhaps a lot. Ultimately, the key question that you need to answer is both simple and complex: Is the adoption option right for you and your family?”)

Third-Party Reproduction

• Helping the Stork: The Choices and Challenges of Donor Insemination by Carol Frost Vercollone, Heidi Moss, and Robert Moss (there aren’t very many books out there for people who use donor sperm, but this one was very good. It is primarily directed at couples with male factor infertility, but it also addresses single women and lesbian couples).
• Mommies, Daddies, Donors, Surrogates: Answering Tough Questions and Building Strong Families by Diane Ehrensaft (a book covering the emotional journey of utilizing third party reproductive techniques. An excellent read for any family debating this route as the author provides important questions to consider before embarking on your journey).

Living Child-Free

• Sweet Grapes: How to Stop Being Infertile and Start Living Again by Jean W. Carter and Michael Carter (a wonderful book for helping people keep infertility from taking over their entire emotional life as well as help you off the roller coaster when you realize enough is enough).

Pregnancy Loss

• Help, Comfort, and Hope after Losing Your Baby in Pregnancy or the First Year by Hannah Lothrop (the author’s own experience with miscarriage puts her in a good space to help others through the grieving process).
• A Silent Sorrow: Pregnancy Loss by Ingrid Kohn and Perry-Lynn Moffitt (a wonderful guide to getting the support you need after a pregnancy loss).
• Empty Cradle, Broken Heart by Deborah L. Davis (again, personal experiences and great advice about miscarriage help one make their way through the grieving process. Also contains a chapter on pregnancy after a loss).
• Empty Arms by Sherokee Ilse (one of the first books written for parents to help them through a pregnancy loss).
• When a Baby Dies, the Experience of Late Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Neonatal Death by Nancy Kohner and Alix Henley (the authors use personal experiences to explain the grief that comes from losing a child and to help readers through that grief).
• Miscarriage After Infertility: A Woman’s Guide to Coping by Margaret Comerford Freda and Carrie F. Semelsberger (a book that specifically covers losses that occur during infertility).
• Coming to Term: Uncovering the Truth About Miscarriage by Jon Cohen (written by a famous science writer, this book explains why and how miscarriage happens).
• Preventing Miscarriage by Jonathan Scher (I’m not finished yet with this one, and I don’t love the happy smoke blown in the introduction, but this book offers a lot of helpful advice in knowing the right questions to ask your doctor after a loss and treatment options. As well as advice on failed IVF cycles).
• When a Baby Dies: A Handbook for Healing and Helping by Rana K. Limbo (this one is published by Resolve Through Sharing/RTS which provides the “gold standard” in bereavement training).
• Mrs. Duck and The Woman by Kara L.C. Jones (a conversation about bereavement after the loss of a child).

Meditation/Non-Western Medicine/Emotions

• Conquering Infertility by Alice Domar (probably the best book on the market for managing the emotions that accompany infertility from the founder of the Mind/Body Program for Infertility).
• The Infertility Cure by Randine Lewis (Chinese medicine techniques and treatments for infertility by an acupuncturist and herbalist).

Personal Accounts

• Down Came the Rain by Brooke Shields (wonderful narrative chronicling her move from pregnancy loss and infertili
  ty to motherhood. It was a bumpy road, with postpartum depression. A must read for anyone who is having difficulties parenting after infertility).
• Baby B by Michael Ryan (how can you not like a book that begins: “I have been telling my friends that what I am injecting into my wife, Doreen, this week is crushed, powdered Chinese hamster ovaries”? Infertility from the male point-of-views with multiples to boot!).
• Inconceivable: A Woman’s Triumph over Despair and Statistics by Julia Indichova (the book you need to read if you’re feeling alone in your journey or if you’ve ever been told by a doctor that you’ll never carry your own child. A Secret Hope Story if there ever was one).

Books For Children About Adoption/Treatments/Infertility (Picture Books or Older)

• You’re Not My Real Mother by Molly Friedrich (despite the in-your-face title, this is a picture book where an adoptive mother explains to her daughter why she is her “real mother.” While they may not look alike, they share all the same bonds as any other mother and daughter).
• We Were Gonna Have a Baby, But We Had an Angel Instead by Pat Schwiebert (a picture book for children that explains pregnancy loss. A must-have if you’re going through secondary infertility).
• I Love You Like Crazy Cakes by Rose Lewis (a picture book–also a board book–that describes the author’s journey to China to adopt her daughter)
• The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Patterson (a middle-grade fiction book about a girl in the foster care system who longs for her biological mother, but ends up learning the true meaning of family)
• Tell Me Again About The Night I Was Born by Jamie Lee Curtis (a child asks to hear again the story of how she was born and came to her family)
• A Mother for Choco by Keiko Kasza (a little bird is adopted by a bear and learns that babies do not always look like their mommies).
• And Tango Makes Three by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson (the true story of a penguin in the Central Park Zoo who has two daddies)
• Mommy, Was Your Tummy Big by Carolina Nadel (an elephant discovers his/her conception story. There are two versions–a donor egg and a donor insemination version)

Videos and Audio Recordings

• Technostorks by Andrei Kirilenko (a film documenting the IVF attempts of three individuals. A great film if you want a heads up before your own IVF attempt or to be shown to someone outside the experience so they better understand infertility).

Fiction with Infertility Themes

• Inconceivable by Ben Elton (a couple is thrown into turmoil when they discover that they can’t conceive. This book touches upon many themes–love, relationships, and careers).

Spiritual/Religious

• When Empty Arms Become a Heavy Burden by Sandra Glahn and William Cutrer (this is written from a Christian perspective and discusses the emotional, financial, physical and spiritual components of infertility).
• Moments for Couples Who Long for Children by Ginger Garrett (as the title implies, this is written to be a daily reading for couples who are battling infertility. It focuses more on the emotional and spiritual areas than health items. I (GLouise) liked many of the questions that Ginger posed such as “Is G-d trying to punish me?” or “Will I ever be happy again?”).

It is a rare occurrence when I want to sleep with a work of non-fiction. And by “sleep” I mean actually getting into bed and tucking it under my pillow or looping my arm around it. Not sleep in some type of sick, twisted, apparently-screwing-my-husband-is-just-about-as-affective-as-screwing-a-mound-of-paper-due-to-my-wonky-cycles way. Fiction, definitely. There have been many times that I have been so in love with a set of characters that I just wanted them close to me when I slept. But non-fiction? There has only been one book like that before now. And that was my translator’s dictionary.

A small aside from infertility: I love my translator’s dictionary. Like really “love it”, love it. I had to special order it from Israel and it cost over $75 before shipping. And when it arrived, I slept with it for several nights. Just so I could peek at the pages if I woke up in the middle of the night and marvel at the long passages explaining the etymology of each word. My roommate thought this was strange, and perhaps it was, but she could hardly throw stones because she ate fish eyes. And in America, eating fish eyes trumps sleeping with a book. But I digress.

Last night, I sat down to watch Grey’s Anatomy and I took the Infertility Survival Handbook by Elizabeth Falker and plopped it on the bed next to me. “Are you going to be reading or watching?” my husband asked.

I just need her close to me, I explained. She is my new translator’s dictionary.

The subtitle is “everything you never thought you’d need to know” and that probably was correct five years ago before we started trying to conceive. By now, I know what I need to know. And Falker delivers. Does prometrium affect when you get your period? Why, yes (p. 234). Can you tell me what questions to ask during a first meeting with an RE? Why, yes (p. 30–54). What can you tell me about reproductive immunology which is the real reason I purchased this book? Every chapter, baby!

I love this book. I really really love it. I wish it had existed years ago. It is essentially like Operation Heads Up in paper form. It’s information about tests, procedures, and medications brought to you by someone who has actually experienced all of those tests, procedures, and medications. The author was a patient at Cornell with Pak Chung. She ultimately adopted her son (and her new book about adoption will be out in November–can I wait that long?), but also endured countless IUIs, IVFs, and laps. The book touches upon other paths to parenthood, but mostly focuses on getting you through treatments and tests.

Resolving Infertility is still the Bible of all fertility books. But Falker gives you the insights into just how much that HSG will hurt whereas Resolving Infertility stops at the details of the test. I’m going to put them together on my book shelf. You know, a literary hug.

Which brings me to my other point, I wanted to start a list of really excellent books on different topics in the sidebar. Beyond the two books I mentioned, what other books really helped you understand a path to parenthood or got you through a cycle emotionally? I’m looking for the best books on adoption, third-party reproduction (donor egg, donor insemination, and surrogacy), living child-free, infertility in general. And hey, throw some videos and meditation tape recommendations into the mix. I’ll put up a big list with links. And then go purchase a few more books. I’m off to the library to go check out the 8 promising adoption books currently at my local branch.

“You want to be where people see that troubles are all the same. You want to be where everybody knows your name…”
—Cheers theme song.

I read blogs long before I wrote one. I started with Dooce and then jumped to Amalah and a bunch of twin blogs: Child’s Play and Sarah and the Goon Squad. At some point, it finally kicked in that there must be infertility blogs out there. I’m not even sure how I found all of you. At the top of my favourites page is A Little Pregnant, Kir’s Corner, and Serenity Now! Perhaps it speaks more to the fact that I rarely know about technological advances until most people are onto the next big thing, but a few years ago, the only blogs I knew about were the ones on Baby Center because most people–those who were not writers or chosen by a larger enterprise to be one of their narrative voices–didn’t have blogs. I’m not even sure when Blogger came about.

But suddenly, there was a new way to follow someone’s story. And this made SUCH a huge difference in a group like infertility where people are blogging, frankly, for support, to vent, and to gather information. At least I am blogging for support, venting, and gathering information so I am attributing those same reasons to everyone else. So there.

Not to sound like an old bat, but back in MY day, if you were wigging out and trying to keep yourself from succumbing to the siren song of the pee stick, you posted a message on a bulletin board (right about now you’re thinking, “and Grandma didn’t even have cars when she was growing up. She had to walk to school WITH HER OWN FEET.”). Which usually got you a “hang in there!” or two. If you had a specific question, you usually got a handful of answers. But the comments were divided based on necessity–questions received more comments than vents. And miscarriages and pregnancies earned equal amounts. Most people wrote their pregnancy congratulations as if they were saying goodbye to the person, perhaps the hope being that if you were pregnant, you would scatter or start putting “pregnancy mentioned” in your subject lines. There were certainly “famous” posters on the board–ones that everyone knew. But their questions didn’t receive more answers than someone who was posting for the first time.

Enter this phenomenon that When Eggs Go Bad brings up–that some people receive 70 comments for a single post and some people receive two. And what creates a celebrity blogger? I guess the big ones are the ones who have been around for years, telling their story. They built up their fan base over a long period of time. Most are excellent writers, hence why people enjoy reading their story. It’s not that they have something more valid to say, but because they say those thoughts so eloquently. At least, that is why I read them.

This is why I love the blog more than the bulletin board–it becomes an ongoing conversation between you and another person you would have never known about in this lifetime if not for the Internet. On the bulletin board, I knew vaguely a few people’s stories, but mostly only in relation to their infertility. With a blog, I know how infertility affects many areas of your life–the family get togethers, the time your car wouldn’t start but you had the semen sample tucked between your breasts, the crappy day where you got your BFN and the best day of your life when you got your BFP. It’s all there. In one space. And you can read backwards and get to know someone you just met. They don’t have to repeat the same stories over and over and over again. All the information is neatly saved. Therefore, a newbie can come onto the scene and quickly know the same things (about another blogger’s life) as a veteran. Being in the game for a long time isn’t a prerequisite anymore to knowing other people’s stories.

And these stories are important for many reasons and it connects to the reason why I comment. Because we depend on one another to pass along information so we know the right questions to ask. We depend on one another to let people know that they’re not alone. Infertility breeds seclusion, and blogs allow empathy, sympathy, and a good old-fashioned virtual back pat to seep into the caves we build for ourselves. My point to Persephone on Friday was not “you’re doing something wrong” but that “you’re not alone. I do this too. And we both need to stop.”

So I comment for the same reason. I pass along any information I have. Infertility sometimes feels like throwing everything out and seeing what sticks. Maybe my advice will trigger other thoughts that will lead to a solution. Or maybe my information is the solution. Or maybe you just need to know that you’re not alone. Not just inside the bad times, but inside the good times too. And I see pregnancy in a completely different way than the thoughts expressed in the comments on this original post.

I think many people stop reading infertility blogs that turn into pregnancy blogs or stop commenting on them because they think they can’t have something to say. But pregnancy after infertility is not a party where balloons and streamers are hanging down from the ceiling for nine months. Not everyone blogs about this, but pregnancy after infertility is like holding your breath for nine months. With small moments where you gasp inside a bit of fresh air. Okay, so not everyone goes through life like this, but those who have too much information do because the worries don’t stop once the pink lines show up. You go from worrying about ovulation to worrying about your beta to worrying about the fact that you’re not feeling morning sickness to worrying about the amnio to…

Pregnant ladies post infertility need your support too. You may think that if you haven’t been there yet it would be impossible to have something to say. But you can and it may even more more detailed than a “hang in there!” I’ve never had an amnio, but I can imagine lying on that table and seeing that needle and it makes me want to leave a little message in the comments section–thinking about you. Please keep us updated. Let us know how it goes. Anything to let her know that she isn’t alone. Because amnios are scary during a normal pregnancy, but…amnios post infertility? Can you imagine sitting around thinking about the miscarriage statistics post amnio? You already struck terrible odds with IF, do you really want to tempt fate? But you want to have information. But would you do anything with that information? It’s a cycle that I think most people don’t consider if they haven’t been through IF. I’m not saying these thoughts don’t go through other people’s minds, but pregnancy post infertility is unique. And these women need support too. And they’re not going to get it from your average pregnancy board. Pregnant women after infertility sort of float in their own space.

And I figured out all of those things about amnio without ever having had one just by reading other blogs. Which is the other way I comment–I pass along something I read. Someone mentioned on their blog that they wanted to know more about unmedicated cycles so I posted that they should go read Jenny from the Infertility Block. Think of it like a bee pulling pollen off of one flower and bringing it to the other. If you read blogs, you have the ability to pass along not only what you’ve learned from your own life, but from other lives as well. I guess that is the point of the Friday Blog Roundup. I read these cool posts and then I wonder if other people have read them and feel the same way so I throw it u
p there to point you towards other people who may feel the same way you do.

So…my blog. Which started as a way to connect to other people’s stories and collect them for the book has become my venting space as I unpeel all of the things I thought and felt (and think and feel) about infertility. Can you tell that I’ve been carrying around a shitload of baggage? Still? Originally, I really didn’t want this blog to be about me, but to be about infertility in general. But then you come to the computer after crying because it was another 21-day cycle or you start reading things and freaking out about your own body. And suddenly, it became about me. Which is fine. I’m not shy about sharing anything that may help another person. So. I will blog about my appointment on Thursday. As well as any results I receive from the blood work. And I will blog about my wonky cycles and the things I am feeling while I parent post infertility as well as gear up for another round of Let’s Make a Baby (or go insane trying!).

But I don’t blog about my kids for the most part because (1) I want this blog to be like a virtual Cheers where you can drink heavily after a BFN and everyone knows your name and (2) I don’t want it to change. I want there to be one blog that is solely about infertility. Infertility-24/7-all-the-time-never-leaving-you-to-go-be-about-mommyhood. There’s a need for that, I think, based on the comments. That there’s a sadness and envy that also takes place with the congratulations and the happiness. Because their happiness is your loss–one less story about the trenches and one more about pregnancy when you’re still back in the war zone.

I also do not blog anonymously, therefore, I know family and friends read what I write. I can’t unring that bell. And if we did ever get pregnant again, I would want to be able to tell them when we were ready. And I would be ready much sooner to discuss it here than I would in real life. So…no pregnancy annoucements from me. Except perhaps in passing. And then back to blogging about infertility. With a few posts peppering the space about pregnancy or parenting after IF because it’s important to have the heads up. Skip them, if you choose, but (and this is the beauty of a blog where the information remains day after day) read them when you’re ready. I have considered creating a new anonymous blog and adding it to the blogroll. But it would sort of defeat the purpose if I then talked about it on this blog. I don’t know–I’m sure there will be people who will be pissed that I’m still talking about IF when/if I actually do become pregnant. But…this blog is not only about fulfilling your needs and putting together things like Operation Heads Up so that people can find quick answers. It’s also about my needs. And I need to talk about infertility. It changed the way I view the world and it shifted my focus in life and frankly, I just need to talk about it. For an indefinite amount of time. Can you imagine your children growing up and then suffering from infertility and you’ll tell them, “go read that Melissa chickie. She was who we read back in my day.” Okay, so perhaps not that indefinitely.

And none of this is a comment on how I feel about pregnancy/parenting after IF blogs. I read them religiously (and I comment!). If a person is telling solely their story, they have to change. Which is why I set up my blog to be different than “just my story.” I think we each have a valid space here in the blogosphere.

A long summing up of my thoughts about blogs, their importance, and how we just need to be there for one another.