It's like a club.
A club you're not in, til you're in.
The Infertile Club. The Gimpy Uterus club, or perhaps the Drowning Swimmers club, or anything in between.
A club we don't particularly *want* more members in, we wouldn't wish this on anybody, but when someone new arrives we are welcoming, and frankly, we are somewhat relieved. Because it means we aren't freaks. Our abnormality, as it were, is normalized. The more people that are freaks like us, the less we feel like outcasts.
And those who aren't in the club, will never understand what it's like to be in the club. They may try to understand. Or they may not bother.
Those who don't bother say things like "Oh, just relax. You're too uptight about it." I agree, my stress level is up. After not getting pregnant for 5 years (that's 60 cycles, thanks for asking), undergoing exhaustive, expensive, invasive tests, after telling a room full of strangers about my sex life, after being told my best shot at getting pregnant is $10K and a test tube, my zen is strangely lacking. Can't imagine why.
Or like "Why don't you just do IVF? It worked for J-Lo and Brangelina, how hard can it be!" While I appreciate the comparison to slightly psychotic A-list entertainers, I'd like to inform you that the mass media is perhaps not the best source for IVF information. Just sayin.
Or maybe "Oh, you don't want kids anyway, I'd give anything to be able to sleep in like you do!" Yes, two hours of sleep on the weekend is something I've striven for my entire life and I find it extremely fulfilling, much like motherhood would be, I imagine!
Those who try to understand will say things like,
"I'm sorry." Yeah, so am I.
"It's so unfair, and I wish I could do something to help you." Yes, it is unfair. And I wish you could, too.
But those who get, it, those who are in the club, will say things like:
(After you get a pregnancy announcement) "I'm coming over with a large jug of wine." God, thank you.
"I'll pick you up at the hospital after your D&C." You will understand that I don't feel like talking. You will leave me with a bottle of advil and a blanket. And you will check up on me to ensure I have enough trashy magazines to get me through.
"I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but this is totally going to happen for you." I needed to hear that, because there are days when I'm ready to give up.
Those who are in the club get it. Those who are in the club really understand why every pregnancy announcement sucks. They really understand why IVF or Clomid or any other medical intervention are nothing to sneeze at. They understand why there are days you can look at the kids' clothing section, and days when you put your head down and rush past it as fast as you can. They understand how there are times you can totally hang out with your Mommy friends who are all going to talk about poop and when to feed solids, and then there are times when you totally can't bear it.
Not everyone gets it. And it seems in order to get it, you have to really get it. And that sucks for everyone.