Why I Choose To Be Anonymous

    

Don't worry, folks...these pics are super old.

To me, some of the best blogs are ones that give great insight into the author's life. I love seeing pictures of bloggers and hearing about their weekends. Putting names with faces makes things more realistic for me.

When I started this blog a few months ago, I wanted so much to be transparent. Finally, I was going to share with the world who I was and what I really go through on a daily basis living with infertility. I thought that if I could help just one person get through a few bad days, I would have succeeded.

The time came, and I decided that I would be somewhat anonymous on my blog. Of course, I use snippets of my own pictures and call myself Mrs. M., (which I suppose could be traced back to me if someone REALLY wanted to stalk me), but I don't show my face or use my full name. It is difficult to keep things descriptive, yet vague enough that should someone I know stumble across this blog, they won't realize it is me.

So why am I anonymous?

1. My family. I have not officially told my mother or Mr. M.'s parents that we are dealing with infertility. They may assume as much, but I have never told them. I have done this for specific purposes. I don't want unsolicited advice, nosey questions, or forced conversations on the topic. I also don't want this news spread around to the whole world just yet (which would probably happen if some of them knew). I also don't think some of the parties involved here would be supportive and/or understanding of this struggle. For example, Mr. M. is one of 7 children, and my mother got pregnant on her honeymoon and never had morning sickness for any of her 3 pregnancies. Infertility doesn't really cross my mother's mind.

2. My friends. Only a select few know that we are dealing with infertility, and even some of those people aren't supportive. I don't want it to take over my friendships.

3. My privacy. Does everyone I know in real life really need to know what it is I am doing with my husband in order to make a baby? Really?

4. The crazies. If everyone knew that I had an infertility blog and wrote about the crazy things people do and say, they wouldn't be so crazy. They would edit themselves. Then I wouldn't be able to give an authentic depiction of what really goes on when one is dealing with infertility.

I do have a family blog, which I suppose I could direct readers to. As long as my family blog isn't connected to this one, I might be ok. I don't know, though.

So, what do you think? Why are you anonymous (or not anonymous)? Am I just paranoid?


---Mrs. M.

I Don't Have to Be Friends With Everyone

(source)

I am learning something important: I don't have to be friends with everyone.

I listened to a webinar this week about running counseling groups for girls in a K-12 setting. The presenter was Julia V. Taylor, and she stated that as girls get older, they don't learn how to socialize well with one another. In elementary school, it is sometimes customary to invite everyone from your class to your birthday party. However, as time passes, girls create closer friendships with others and not being invited to the birthday party or sleepover causes hurt feelings. Sometimes instead of talking about these feelings, girls talk about each other. We are expected to be nice, and sometimes this is difficult if we don't really like others (as we are expected to).

In my own life, I have felt that it is necessary for me to try to be friends with everyone. My philosophy is that "everyone needs a friend." I stand by that mantra. However, I don't always have to be that friend. 

There is a woman who I met at church (which is where I feel especially pressured to be friends with everyone) who I am having a difficult time liking. On paper, it seems like we could be great friends: same church, similar undergraduate experiences, artistic and musical interests, same values, both married. However, something is not clicking. At all. 

At first I thought it was her pregnancy. She was very pregnant and not even married for a full year yet. She flaunted it. She complained about it. She made a spectacle of herself and how "miserable" she was. Then she had the baby and I thought, "Great! She can stop, and we can be friends." Not so. She made comments about her "superhuman" qualities for giving birth without an epidural and complained about her baby (crying, not sleeping, having a faux-hawk at only 2 weeks old).

It was too much for me and I did the ultimate friend-cleansing ritual: I blocked her from my facebook feed (so significant, right?). I also stopped going to an activity that she helps to run because I can't take the baby-ness. Mr. M still goes, and that is fine with me. I just know where my emotional limits are.

I also still see her at church where I am friendly in every way, and I don't feel guilty. I feel relieved. I have wanted to be friends for 8 months, but mostly because my feelings for her were negative and I didn't want to feel that way. However, I now feel quite freed. She can be herself, and I can be myself, and it is OK. 

Goodbye, Baby-Flaunter. 

  

---Mrs. M.

Even My Therapist is Pregnant

I have been struggling with depression. I know that much of it originates with my struggle with infertility. So, I have been meeting with a psychologist in order to make some goals and help me beat this.

Today she told me that she is pregnant.

Is this some kind of a joke? I mean, isn't it bad enough that my facebook is already cluttered with ultrasound pics and cranky, morning sickness statuses? Now my therapist/counselor/psychologist has to be pregnant, too?

Now, I am actually very grateful that she told me, since she wasn't going to tell her clients. However, since she knows I struggle with this, she figured it was better to let me know before I started to see the obvious, physical signs of pregnancy. She gave me the option of switching counselors as well. This was thoughtful.

I told her that it would probably be good for me and that I would stick with her for now, but the more I think about it, the more concerned I am. I don't know if I will have the gumption to tell her when pregnant people annoy me--and how it affects me. Today I did, but she still does not look pregnant. Will I be able to talk so openly when she is 7 months pregnant?

Sometimes I think I should only associate with post-menopausal women. That would solve some problems.

A Grateful Mother

(source)

Last night, I attended a meeting in the community. The topic of the meeting was coping with stress--any kind of stress, and how it affects weight loss. The meeting was mostly women, and the conversation soon turned to children:

• Random Woman: Sometimes, when I am stressed, I spend time with my kids. They are content to just play, and they aren't bothered by other problems. It helps me to spend time with them while they are so carefree.

• Stressed Woman: What do you do when your children ARE the cause of your stress? 

• Grateful Mother: I am struggling right now with my sixteen-month old, because he is right at the stage where he is becoming ornery---but I wouldn't trade it for the world! He is all I ever wanted, and his worst day is still my best day, because I have him. He is exactly what I have always dreamed of, and I cherish every day with him because some people have their children taken from them, and I am lucky to have him.

• Stressed Woman: That's a good point. I never thought of it that way.

As I sat in the middle of the exchange, I was so very grateful for the Grateful Mother sitting behind me. After the class, I thanked her for her comments about her baby. It is so refreshing to hear women talk about their little miracles that way, and I wanted to let her know. She told me that she had had two miscarriages, and that she remembered what a blessing her little boy was.

Thank you, Grateful Mother, for being grateful for the wonderful little baby you have. I am so glad you were in that meeting, and I hope I am just like you if I am ever blessed with the opportunity to have children of my own.

The Cook-Off

I am going to a Chili Cook-Off at church tonight. It is kind of a big deal, especially considering that the first-place winner last year received the grand prize of a whoopee cushion. Since the first time I made chili was six days ago, I'm feeling pretty confident that the whoopee cushion might just be mine this year (though I think I would rather have a whoopie pie).

Along with this cook-off is a service auction for the youth. Members of the church were contacted to provide services that could be auctioned off for their cause (scout camp & girls' camp). When Mr. M. emailed me about what we could donate, I came up with the oh-so-original idea of babysitting. That's right: babysitting. What else would a couple in their late twenties with no children offer?

I did consider other talents and services I had to auction, like doing dishes, or Mr. M.'s piano-playing skills, but I want to make sure that the youth actually get some bids on our entry. And what could be more valuable than babysitting to a room full of families with little kiddos?

Of course, I actually do enjoy babysitting. I do it on the side for some families in the community (and they pay me more per hour than my office job). But the whole fact that I can easily offer this service is kind of disheartening. Ideally, I would be the one bidding on the babysitting. If things worked out according to my plan, I would be clamoring to get the chili done while being interrupted by a screaming toddler and infant. Instead, I will be struggling to get chili done because (a) I'm a chili expert with only six days of experience, and (b) I bought Netflix last month.

I suppose either way you look at it, I'm still going to be struggling over the chili--and all for the sake of a whoopee cushion.