"She Meant Well."

When I complain to friends or family about how everyone (including this random woman on the subway who offered me her seat last week - apparently mistaking my empire waist shirt for a maternity top) either thinks I'm pregnant, asks me if I'm pregnant or asks me what I'm waiting for to get pregnant, the listeners inevitably have one of two reactions:

1) "Are you kidding? People ask you that? I am stunned, in shock, horrified! Poor you!"

2) "Oh, they mean well!"

Guess which response I prefer?

I've thought a lot about the second response (not the one I prefer) and tried to figure out why I just can't get with the view that these people are just looking out for my well-being and "mean well." I think it's because there are lots and lots of things you could say and "mean well." For example,"

"Have you ever considered getting a nose job?" In saying this to a certain person I know, I could save her the pain of being teased about a nose that could only belong on a boxer whose had a very long career. But I would never, ever say that to her. Because I don't just think about what I mean - that she's beautiful but the Mike Tyson nose sort of holds her back from her inner Cameron Diaz - I think about the effect my question would have on her.

And so even though she complains about her nose all the time, and says that it keeps her from dating the guys she wants to date or feeling cute in this outfit or those earrings, I never suggest that she get a nose job. But I also don't tell her, "Don't worry about it! Stop worrying about your nose so much! If you just relax about your nose, it'll get smaller!"

The problem with being asked if I'm pregnant (which has the effect of making me feel obese and ugly) or what I'm waiting for (to get pregnant) is that it makes me talk about something I don't want to talk about with people I don't want to talk to about it.

I agree with Jennifer - if people are going to ask a question that might make you uncomfortable, they need to be prepared for an answer that might make them uncomfortable. But I want to decide who I talk with about our infertility. Just because someone asks me about it doesn't mean I have to talk to them about it.

I promise that in the next post I'll stop complaining about insensitive people for a minute and will give you some useful info about what I've learned and what we've gone through so far. In the mean time, I highly recommend a book that Jennifer gave to me:

The Baby Trail, by Sinead Moriarty. It's a funny, fictional account of two years in the life of a couple trying to get pregnant, and Sinead Gets It. After reading it, I felt a lot better about how I was feeling - that I wasn't being overly sensitive or "worrying about it too much" and that for some reason, the feelings that accompany this hellish adventure are common and amazingly similar.

-L