Posted by: DD | July 20, 2006

no. 234 – The Scar

Z_bandaids_bandaged_heart_1 I am feeling especially pensive and preoccupied today. I would like to think I don’t know why, but I’m guessing it’s due in part to PMS. Because of that, I feel even more disheartened than usual. I actually have days when I think I am going to get over that hump that is infertility, but as I close in on the apex, I slide back down. The further I get up, the faster and harder I fall.

Earlier today, I read TB’s recent post over at Soul Gardening. It reminded me of how I perceive women around me differently than before our infertility, and wonder if I am noticed differently in turn. I use to make shallow conclusions about what another person’s life was like based on their appearance: wealth, job, marriage status, living conditions, etc. But now I look at them and try to imagine if they have children; how many; and did they have difficulties doing so. If the woman has a child, close to X’s age, I wonder if he or she is an only child, or if there is a baby at home who might be close to what Vivienne would be now.

This new way of looking at people makes me feel so isolated and alone, because what are the odds that someone is looking at me the same way? Do I exude loss? Is my overall “aura” any different? They are more than likely looking at me like I use to. They make judgments about my physical and material attributes. I appear to be an average, healthy, middle-class working Mom. Infertility doesn’t leave any outward physical marks like many chronic diseases.

Sometimes I wish it did.

Infertility has been a wound on my heart. Time passes and the wound scabs over. But just when I think it will finally heal up, I am reminded of how much it itches. It’s too easy to say it’s the sighting of a pregnant woman or a new baby. Instead it’s looking at fabric that would have been perfect for a baby girl’s window covering. It’s the smell of lavender bubble bath. It’s the clothes I wear nearly daily that were “supposed” to help me transition into maternity wear. It’s hearing the song “She Will Be Loved” that became popular when I was pregnant and was hoping I was going to have a girl I could sing that to. And I bleed as the wound opens right back up.

But no one sees that.

So even though I appear to be OK, I ache on the inside. I wait for the wound to heal a little bit more. I understand that someday it will heal enough to never bleed, but there will be moments when it starts to itch and all that will be left is a scar.

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Responses

  1. I’m so sorry. IF leaves such an indelible mark on the inside that sometimes it would be easier if you could see it on the outside. Then people might understand why a day that seems so lovely to them makes you very, very sad. Because you’ve seen a child playing with her mommy who is the age Vivienne would be, or your period has started, or someone has announced a pregnancy. Things that mean little or nothing to someone else can absolutely break an infertile’s heart.

  2. Oh DD, thank you. Can I tell you that these same thoughts went through my head yesterday? I wanted to write about the way I felt as it related to infertility but I couldn’t find the words. You found them for me.

  3. “Infertility doesn’t leave any outward physical marks like many chronic diseases.

    Sometimes I wish it did.”

    Me too. I’ve been getting the motherlode of stupid comments this week. It’s so nice to come home and spend a few minutes in the blogosphere reminding myself that I’m not a freak. It helps the wounds on my heart to read things like this. Thanks.

  4. I agree with you about outward physical marks… It’s like we have something and no one knows.

    Some day I just hope the fertile population is more educated as to what we have to go through.

    Take care

  5. I’m sorry.

  6. Yes, DD. Infertility does leave a wound that will heal, but never closes. I find myself scrutinizing other women wondering if they have the same open wound I’ve got, too.

    It’s a lonely feeling… but you’re not alone.


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Posted by: DD | July 20, 2006

no. 234 – The Scar

Z_bandaids_bandaged_heart_1 I am feeling especially pensive and preoccupied today. I would like to think I don’t know why, but I’m guessing it’s due in part to PMS. Because of that, I feel even more disheartened than usual. I actually have days when I think I am going to get over that hump that is infertility, but as I close in on the apex, I slide back down. The further I get up, the faster and harder I fall.

Earlier today, I read TB’s recent post over at Soul Gardening. It reminded me of how I perceive women around me differently than before our infertility, and wonder if I am noticed differently in turn. I use to make shallow conclusions about what another person’s life was like based on their appearance: wealth, job, marriage status, living conditions, etc. But now I look at them and try to imagine if they have children; how many; and did they have difficulties doing so. If the woman has a child, close to X’s age, I wonder if he or she is an only child, or if there is a baby at home who might be close to what Vivienne would be now.

This new way of looking at people makes me feel so isolated and alone, because what are the odds that someone is looking at me the same way? Do I exude loss? Is my overall “aura” any different? They are more than likely looking at me like I use to. They make judgments about my physical and material attributes. I appear to be an average, healthy, middle-class working Mom. Infertility doesn’t leave any outward physical marks like many chronic diseases.

Sometimes I wish it did.

Infertility has been a wound on my heart. Time passes and the wound scabs over. But just when I think it will finally heal up, I am reminded of how much it itches. It’s too easy to say it’s the sighting of a pregnant woman or a new baby. Instead it’s looking at fabric that would have been perfect for a baby girl’s window covering. It’s the smell of lavender bubble bath. It’s the clothes I wear nearly daily that were “supposed” to help me transition into maternity wear. It’s hearing the song “She Will Be Loved” that became popular when I was pregnant and was hoping I was going to have a girl I could sing that to. And I bleed as the wound opens right back up.

But no one sees that.

So even though I appear to be OK, I ache on the inside. I wait for the wound to heal a little bit more. I understand that someday it will heal enough to never bleed, but there will be moments when it starts to itch and all that will be left is a scar.


Responses

  1. I ache for you, too. I’m glad you can write about it, because I think you are probably pretty good at not showing it.

  2. “Infertility doesn’t leave any outward physical marks like many chronic diseases.

    Sometimes I wish it did.”

    Me too. I’ve been getting the motherlode of stupid comments this week. It’s so nice to come home and spend a few minutes in the blogosphere reminding myself that I’m not a freak. It helps the wounds on my heart to read things like this. Thanks.

  3. I agree with you about outward physical marks… It’s like we have something and no one knows.

    Some day I just hope the fertile population is more educated as to what we have to go through.

    Take care

  4. I’m sorry.

  5. Yes, DD. Infertility does leave a wound that will heal, but never closes. I find myself scrutinizing other women wondering if they have the same open wound I’ve got, too.

    It’s a lonely feeling… but you’re not alone.


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