I’m finally catching up on some Go.ogle reading that I’ve been putting off since the previous week. Yeah … there’s a lot of them. In particular there have been a flurry of pre- and post- Mother’s Day posts. And that’s completely understandable, given the nature of our blogs and our blogging community. Most noteworthy were two posts that I felt compelled to write more about rather than just posting a comment on their blogs.
Ann at The Unlucky 20 Percent wrote about certain comments people have said to her on Mother’s Day; particularly after finding out that she’s not a “mother-to-be,” but was already a mother whose first child was in heaven. I give her lots of credit for correcting those people she has encountered. Infertility and the subsequent loss associated with it is never an easy thing to talk about face to face. But just because infertility may not be discussed during any type of social gathering, doesn’t mean that it should be forgotten or disregarded.
Yes, I know how easy it is for one to make “foot-in-mouth” statements … I’ll readily admit that I am usually the first in a group to do something like that and then quickly try to correct myself. But what I try to do after such statement is make light of it, or try and engage someone in conversation about what kind of stupid thing I might have said. No, it’s not easy to do that. But if it brings about discussion and I learn something new from that discussion, I figure that I’ve gained insight into something I might not have fully understood before.
So I wish that more people would do that in this world. I wish that when people do make some “off-handed” remark about how lucky Hubby & I don’t have kids or tell us that we can “always just adopt,” that they … first of all, realize that saying those things are not comforting words (because that’s the other aspect of this … not realizing when they’ve put their foot in their mouths). And second … be willing and patient to hear exactly why we don’t have kids.
Oh … and offering things such as to “loaning” Hubby & I their kids for the weekend or telling us stories about how their best friend’s sister’s best friend adopted and miraculously got pregnant afterwards? Those aren’t comforting either. And neither is telling us to stop stressing and “just relax.”
Just listening to us. Without feeling awkward about it. That’s what we (or more accurately, what I) want.
Now over at Sluggish Butterfly wrote about wanting to be special. That it was in her competitive nature to want to be different than others and this is what she probably finds most frustrating in her IF journey. It’s a post I can definitely relate to in some levels of my life. I’m not especially “competitive,” however I’ve always felt a need to be different from others.
I’m sure it stems from the fact that I’m a second-generation Filipino American and therefore, automatically different than others. Growing up, I was the only Asian girl in my class up through junior high. Once I got into high school, that number increased to 5 out of a class of 200. With the exception of one of these gals, we bonded quickly out of necessity and were pretty close to each other. In fact, we are still in contact with each other to this day.
You’d have thought I would wanted to blend in with the rest of my classmates. Unfortunately, looking the way I did … not to mention dressing the way I did (I was “Class New-Waver, after all 😛 ) … it would never be easy for me to blend in. I was friendly enough with most social circles that I could jump from one to another seamlessly, but I’m sure it’s because I was just always accepted as the “Unusual Asian Chick.” While somedays being “different” and coming from a different cultural background was downright a struggle, I pretty much embraced my “uniqueness” and have carried that on with me through adulthood.
Except when it comes to my infertility. That’s when I want to be “normal.”
And when I mean normal, I mean that I don’t want to be that “One Couple out of Eight” or that “Unlucky 20 Percent” that is infertile. I would much rather be that couple that was able to get pregnant within one to three months of “trying.” I want to have the ability to carry, labor and deliver my own biological child. I want to be able to dress my nursery and “nest” like any other pregnant woman would do.
And although I’m not necessarily a “competitive” person in life … I am a person that has been brought up to believe that if you work hard at something that you truly want, you will succeed. And I have to honestly say that I have managed to obtain all my goals in life by working hard … except for bringing my own biological child into this world.
And that’s how I find myself, yet again, different than most. Special, Like Ed. Riding the “Short Bus.”
So I guess what I need to do now is embrace my inferility and welcome it into my “special” and “unique” life. But writing it and actually doing it is definitely easier said than done.
Of course I disagreed. Because if there’s one thing that I am, I’m a hopeless romantic. I believe that there is definitely someone out there for everyone … it’s just a matter of when it happens. And sometimes it happens later rather than sooner.
Let me set the scene. 
