Tuesday, January 9, 2018

When sad is buried by happiness

I don't make a habit of passing out advice, especially unsolicited advice, but I'm going to make an exception.

If there is someone in your life who is dealing with/dealt with infertility/you suspect they may be dealing with infertility/would love nothing more than to have a child but doesn't have a partner/etc. and someone close to them (e.g., a sibling) has a baby, reach out to them.  A simple "I love you" or "I'm thinking about you" text works great.  Let them know you're thinking about them in a tangible way, yet one that doesn't necessarily require a response.

My sister had her baby yesterday.  

You'll recall that she's basically a coward and couldn't tell me that she was pregnant herself, instead relying on our mother to break the news.

I had limited contact with her while she was pregnant and only saw her twice.  The limited contact wasn't really intentional but was a product of busy schedules.  My sister isn't the most likable person to be around when she's not pregnant, and she's insufferable when pregnant.  

I moved past the hurt that came from her cowardice.  Or at least I thought I did.  As it turns out, not enough time has passed to heal this wound.  

I lost it.  I took it harder than I did any of the back to back to back sister pregnancies.  I cried myself to sleep last night.

Beyond being a part of a group text with my mom, sisters, and one of my cousins, my sister hasn't reached out to me personally.  Which is fine.  She can talk to whoever she wants.  I muted the chat and didn't respond to anything on it before I muted it.  I'll deal with it when I'm ready.

I am hurting.

And I'm hurt.

But the hurt isn't jealousy or the all too familiar pangs of the loss of dreams (though those were there too), rather most of it comes from the actions of my mother.  Or inaction, as the case may be.  

Part of being a parent is being there for your children, both for the happy and for the sad.  And if a person has more than one child, there is the possibility of both emotions existing simultaneously.  If there is time to take a gazillion pictures and gloat about a new grandbaby on social media, there is time to send a text to the one you know is hurting.

Yet no such text came.  And still hasn't.  The message that I don't matter was received loud and clear.  God, it hurts.  

I'm so mad at myself for letting my guard down and allowing hope that she would do better this time to creep in.

I am grateful for friends who are like family.


  1. I know... in this way my mom is very similair to yours. I was also hurt many times. But as the years passed by I have learnt that my mom was sad for me, she didn't know what to say so she choose the easiest way: she didn't say anything.
    It is difficult for the beloved ones around us to know what to say. Saying nothing is the easiest. But it hurts us, I know.
    sending you a big hug from sLOVEnia.

  2. Sending hugs and love. This is all so tough, and so many emotions are involved.
    I'm not sure you mother is sending the message that you don't matter. But she doesn't get it, and so is dealing with the easier emotions - joy - rather than the ones she doesn't understand. And sadly, that makes you feel even worse, and I'm so so sorry for that.
    More love. More hugs.

  3. I’m so angry at your mom because my mom has done the exact same thing only to be shocked later on when called out. It is unacceptable and shows she really has failed you. I’m so sorry

  4. Holding you in my heart right now. That is a really difficult space to be in.

  5. Terrible. I read your last post and I was really happy for you because it seemed like you were moving into a much better place and I have no doubt now that if it weren't for your family you would have been there much sooner. I wish I could shake your mother.

  6. I know I'm a random stranger on the internet, but I am definitely sending you love and keeping you in my thoughts today. I've wondered what's worse, living life without the hope of loved ones doing better, or living life when you have that hope and it gets dashed. I'm so sorry you're having to experience it firsthand.

  7. I am so sorry.

    My family sucks in this department too. So far, none of them have said anything apologetic or empathetic to me. There's been no acknowledgement of my loss even. Part of that may be because I have kept my infertility so private, but part of it is that they just don't think. (And regardless of my private approach, my sisters know everything because my mom told them even though I told her not to.) My mom is especially selfish. If I had given her a grandchild, then she would be posting all sorts of pictures on social media (against my wishes). But I couldn't so instead she has chosen to become really engrossed with my cousin's new baby.

    But enough about me. I am sorry you are hurting. I know the hurt will lessen over time, but it still sucks right now and I am sorry. <3

  8. Oh no, I am so so sorry. This is so hard. I feel for you in this moment, and for all the cuts bundled up into this experience. When the people who are supposed to love you most screw it all up and seem to be completely devoid of empathy, it hurts so, so much. My therapist tells me all the time "don't go to a dry well seeking water. You do that time after time." Dry wells suck. It is so hard to let go of the expectations you have for people who are supposed to somehow inherently know how to make you feel better, not worse. I hope that you can take good care of yourself, and that enough other people can circle you in love, warmth, and healing thoughts to fill you up. I'm so, so sorry.

  9. I second what Jess says: when family screw it up and have a complete empathy malfunction, it's agonisingly painful. There seems to be a general limit on fertile people's tolerance for our plight and it's very sad. No one is ever too busy to send a message, and it hurts tenfold when what they are busy with is posting up baby stuff. Grim. Phoenix is right, the hurt will lessen over time, but for now just know we all know how you feel

  10. Families... oy. :p I am so sorry your mom wasn't able to there for you in the same way she was for your sister. I don't blame you for feeling hurt. (((hugs)))