Sunday, 21 December 2014

Post Graduate Life

I can understand why the transition from RE to OB is described as graduation. It reminds me of other times during my life when I've been technically qualified, but not quite sure I'm ready for the next step. I accept that I'm past the stage of infertility treatments, but I'm not ready to embrace the pregnancy. I feel my risk of miscarriage decrease with each passing week and we're very fortunate to have the reassurance from our CCS testing. We're still planning to pursue the Non-Invasive Prenatal Testing, but it is more of a formality. Mostly, I'm not ready for the reaction to my pregnancy. I'm not looking forward to the commotion and attention. I don't want to answer mutilple questions on how I'm feel-ling. I fear staff members will see me in the break room and wonder how much weight I'm gaining. I'm not ready to start slapping away wandering hands trying to touch my bump.

Myrtle recently asked when I would start telling people. I hadn't given it much thought. Husband is dying to start sharing the news, but I convinced him to follow the unspoken rule of waiting until the second trimester. Mostly, I admit that it's really just buying me more time to become comfortable with the idea of everyone knowing my secret. My friend Robin has been texting me often to discuss our pregnancies, as I suspect she's the first among her circle of friends to find herself in a family way. I mentioned that I found Zantac to be the next best thing since sliced bread (sliced bread is still retaining the top spot as my love affair with toast continues..) "Oh, I'll have to remember that with my second baby" she replied. Sigh. Suddenly it dawned on me that I'm just not ready to discuss my pregnancy with non-infertile people. Funny how I was initially so reluctant to join InfertileWorld, while so unaware that it would become my comfort zone.

I figured that I would tell my swim teammates when I start showing. Let's face it, there are some situations where you can run, but you can't hide. Plus, I don't really know how to drop the P-bomb into conversation. "Today's set was tough. I'm pregnant. Do you think we'll be sprinting again tomorrow?" Maybe I was feeling a little giddy about turning ten weeks, as I was contemplating telling someone as a way to celebrate making it into the double digits of gestational age.

Although I don't know if Summer and I would exactly call each other friends, I would say that I'm friendlier with her than I am with others. We've carpooled to a few meets, ran some races together and we're usually the last ones to leave the pool, so we'll often chat while walking to the car park. Actually, I could argue that I should tell her personally since I'm closer with her, but I decided I would wait until we were alone in the locker room. As I was gearing myself up to actually go through with it, Lena, a swimmer who joined our group a few months ago, described how she's been wearing larger clothes to conceal her pregnancy from her co-workers.

"Oh, you're pregnant! Congratulations!" I blurted out as I realised that Summer must have known already. I silently sighed. Lena had just wed in early October. I started trying to conceive nine months after I joined the swim group. I've had to watch five swimmers procreate in that time. Lena became the next pregnant swimmer in only a matter of months. I thought about using her declaration as a opportunity to reveal my situation, but it didn't seem appropriate to tack onto her announcement.

As I decided I would wait for another time, I walked over to the sinks, but I could still hear Lena and Summer talking. Quite predictably, she described how they weren't actively attempting to conceive at that time. In fact, she was trying to avoid her fertile window as she didn't want to be dealing with pregnancy related nausea on her wedding day. Wouldn't you know it, the stress of the wedding messed with her cycle and she was ovulating on the one night they had sex in September... "So, it happened much quicker than we expected, but at least we're not one of those couples who have to do infertility treatments. I could never do that." she explained as Summer agreed with her position.

You mean someone like me... I wanted to walk around the corner and confront them both by announcing that I was pregnant after multiple failed fertility treatments. Oh and it's so thoughtful the way you fertiles pity us. Yet, I didn't want to give up my news just for spite. I kept quiet and tuned out their conversation. Maybe there was something about being in a locker room that brought back the vulnerability of feeling as if I were back in high school and the popular girls were talking about me.

Her words stung and they haunted me for the rest of the day. Yet what hurt most of all, is that I had to acknowledge that if had gotten knocked up on my first attempt, I probably would have said the same thing.


  1. Oh these people. Regardless of their audience, it's still not something decent to say. Period. *sigh* It would have made my blood boil... it just reminds me that we still have to careful when it comes to talking to fertile people, to protect us from being hurt, even after an infertile pregnant got pregnant.

    I am super thrilled for you, but I can understand your hesitation in sharing with people around you. Wow you're into double digits already! Hope that your sickness will soon ease up a bit so you can enjoy this pregnancy more and more. :)

  2. Toast is great, isn't it? :)

    I'd like to hope I'd never be someone who would say something that insensitive, especially not knowing my audience, but who knows? Either way, it was rude. Eric's sister (who easily conceived after three months of trying) said to me recently, "If we hadn't been able to have kids, I never would have gone to the lengths you did. We would have just done without and been happy with being an aunt and uncle." Um... ok? What am I supposed to do with that information? Are you saying I'm nuts (well, I am...). And really, how can they really know what they would and wouldn't do without going through it?

    You'll find out a way to tell them, and I'm sure you'll here more comments. It's amazing the thick skin we develop from all of this.

  3. Oh the dreaded "how are you feeling?" I tolerate from my husband, but my mom, dad, and in-laws drive me nuts. We did just tell a non-immediate family member yesterday (we hijacked their announcement, but this is their 3rd and #2 just turned 1, thank god I'm pg) and it was kind of funice to tell someone.

    We're going to start telling people right after the new year, at 12 weeks. So not quite in the 2nd tri, but almost. Good friends will happen organically, but I haven't really decided how I'll tell people at work. I don't want a big announcement because who knows what people's situations are, and I don't want the advice, the questions or the mommy wars. One of my colleagues who just gave birth says my group OB practice is akin to going to a Wall-Mart, as opposed to her "boutique" sole practioner (eye roll). Sigh. Maybe I should just wait until I'm actually showing.

  4. I hate to acknowledge that in one point in time, I too would have said something similar. The one gold thing that came out of infertility was that it taught me to be more sensensitive to what may be going on behind the scene in other's lIves.

    I hope when you share your news you find a way to take a little jab at Lena ;)

  5. I hate that my husband and I both said that we would never do infertility treatments when we first decided to start trying- I even wrote it on my blog. HA HA HA HA. Oh silly me from 2010.

  6. My husband was the same way. He would have told people the minute after the positive test. I made him wait to share until 12 weeks with our friends and his coworkers. We told our parents at 11. I told my coworkers at 21 weeks--and I would have waited longer except I was getting too big to hide it. We officially "came out" on Facebook last week with our Christmas card (at 22 weeks), and even that made me nervous. People say insensitive things, they always ask how I'm feeling, and I'm just not up to talk about it all the time. It never really felt easy for me to share the news. Hopefully you are able to find the perfect moment for everyone!

  7. Yeah, I think a lot of people are pretty judgmental about ART unless/until they're in a situation where they need it. I never would have thought I'd be someone doing IVF, let alone DEIVF, because I never thought I wanted kids that badly and I'm terrified of needles. And yet look at me now. In a way I feel like we should just right away tell people like this, "Well, I'm one of those people!" but on the other hand I feel like it's none of their business.

  8. I've learned to turn a blind eye to any negativity to the steps we've taken to have a family. It's our decision. Our life. Our family. To hell with anyone that raises a single eyebrow. I've grown very proud of the road we've taken these past few months, so I'm just owning it. It's a tough thing to do though!! I'm so sorry for her words, I kinda want to kick her in the shin for you. xoxo

  9. Yeah, there's everything you have to put up with in fertility treatments, and failed treatments, and then the anxiety of being pregnant after IF, and then there's the stupid comments. Sometimes you just have to say "well that's stupid" in your head and then let it go. Sending good wishes as always.

  10. I was totally like you and didn't want to tell people right away. Unfortunately, my husband and very obvious bump at 9 weeks didn't let me keep the secret for very long. I didn't want the attention and never felt comfortable with all the gushing people do all over pregnant women. That part was really hard for me. I was lucky and never had a stranger try to touch my belly - I was dreading that. Oh yeah - F*#$ your swimming teammate and her insensitivity to other people's struggles.