Some of you on Facebook may have seen this status posted by friends and family:
Infertility is a heart-wrenching, faith-questioning, relationship-testing, life-altering experience. April is Infertility Awareness Month. Whether a friend, a family member, a colleague or yourself has fought through this difficult fate that MILLIONS of women are fighting day in and day out. Post this as your status if you or someone you know has walked through hell and back for a chance to be a mom.
I definitely saw it more than a few times. And one of those times seriously hit me in the gut.
I think I have alluded to it a few times on here but never came out with a full story. Around the time that I found out that we were never going to conceive a child the old-fashioned roll in the hay way, one of my supposed best friends had stopped replying to my emails and phone calls. Our mutual friend dropped everything and came out to see me the day after I found out. We talked and she let me cry and work through what we were feeling about next steps. But nothing from my friend. I figured it was just another one of her busy spells and it happened from time to time that one of us would get too busy to chat and then all would resume normally after a while. It happens in all friendships and we had our share of these spells and always worked our way back to each other. Granted, our friendship had been more strained lately but I think part of that was the fact that her husband didn’t particularly like me or A. And frankly the feeling was mutual. But I put up with her husband because she was one of my oldest friends.
So after sending her a birthday gift and not hearing back from her, I emailed her to see if she received it. She wrote back and thanked me and told me that she had been very busy and not feeling well because (drum roll please) she was pregnant. Not just pregnant. Four and a half months pregnant. And I’m fairly certain that the only reason I was finding out now is that she was going to be seeing me in a week at mutual friend’s house. Otherwise, I think I would have learned of it when I got the baby shower invitation.
This crushed me. I was at work when I got the email. I started to sob. At my desk. Oh yeah, I’m a consummate professional. I had to leave work early. Luckily my boss was incredibly understanding. She closed her door, closed the shades, let me cry and sent me straight home. Not only was I upset that she was pregnant after telling me for ages that she wasn’t even sure if she wanted kids and how was she supposed to know when she was ready, but the fact that she waited so long to tell me. She knew it would hurt me and so she avoided telling me because she couldn’t handle it, I guess? Didn’t she think that the fact that I now know that she regarded me as someone who she had to walk on eggshells around hurt even more? And our mutual friend knew. I had always considered the three of us equally close to each other. But I guess somewhere along the way, my infertility got to be too much for her to deal with so she just cut me out?
But I did the best I could. I told her I was happy. I asked questions. I acted interested. I never let on that I was hurt by it because I wanted to show her that I was ok with all this. That she could come to me with this news. That she didn’t have to worry about hurting me. And still I felt like I was being shut out. After answering my questions about their baby-t0-be, she finally came around to asking me how my situation was going. I told her the latest news. I told her that we were looking to do IUI because it was impossible the old fashioned way. Her response was that she was sorry and she was here for me and at least we could have fun trying.
Excuse me?
Did she not read my email? Have fun trying? Have fun with what? My legs being up in the air while a nurse sticks a speculum and then a catheter up me and injects sperm into me? While sometimes my husband is there holding my hand but sometimes it’s such short notice that he can’t make it to the IUI and I have to stick it out alone? Ok, thanks.
But I chalked it up to pregnancy brain. And I let it go. I went to her shower. I bought her gifts. I texted her my congratulations after mutual friend told me they had her baby. Her husband apparently chose not to notify me of it directly. Fine, whatever. I called when I heard she might have post partum. I tried to sound cheery in my voicemails since she never answered her phone. I coordinated a day for mutual friend and I to visit. I bought a gift for the baby. I even bought a gift for her to cheer her up. I’ll admit I told her in advance that it would probably be hard for me to hold the baby since I was going through a bad time. She seemed to understand. I brought lunch. I left the leftovers for them to have for dinner. Her husband while mainly ignoring me, seemed to have no problem scarfing down my food.
Then, silence. I didn’t hear from her in forever. I tried to send emails and write on her wall on Facebook and stay in touch. She rarely replied. If I sent her a funny article or quiz that made me think of her, she would quickly reply to those. But personal emails, never. Her grandmother passed away. I emailed my condolences. She texted me the next day to talk about General Hospital and Brenda’s return. She called me after our texts were getting too long. It was great. We chatted like old friends. I thought we were ok. We weren’t. I didn’t hear from her again.
I saw her at mutual friend’s son’s baptism. We chatted. It was fine. Nothing too deep. Her husband didn’t speak to me. About two-thirds of the way through the party, I went over to say hello since he wasn’t going to do it. I asked about her son’s upcoming birthday. I asked if they were having a party. She said yes, something small. I took that to mean that I shouldn’t hold my breath for an invite. And I wasn’t. I was just asking to make polite conversation. Mutual friend later asked me if I had received an invitation. Neither of us had. A few weeks later, mutual friend lets me know that she received an email invitation to the party and my name is not on it. I’m not surprised. Hurt but not surprised.
And so I’ve decided that’s the end of that. I can’t try anymore if she’s not trying in return. And that’s fine. It’s not much of a loss. She hasn’t been a true friend since I found out about our infertility. Maybe the topic made her uncomfortable. Maybe she didn’t know what to say and so we drifted apart. Maybe her husband didn’t want us to be friends anymore. That’s fine. But it’s also being a shitty friend. When a friend of mine had cancer, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to respond to her wig and her chemo and the fact that she’d never have kids after this and she was only 23. But I didn’t ignore her. I bumbled along the best I could. I probably hurt her feelings sometimes because I said the wrong there but I was there. And that was cancer. This isn’t anything as bad as cancer and this person who supposedly knew me better than anyone else, who was the maid of honor at my wedding, who was one of my oldest friends couldn’t find a way to support me?
So I wrote it off. No big showdown. I’m just not making an effort anymore. And a week or two after this happens, I open Facebook and bam. She had that as her status update.
You’ve got to be eff-ing kidding me, right? She’s got to be? Seriously, you can talk to someone about their infertility? You stop communicating with your friend when she needs you most. But then you post that as your status?
Luckily, I am far too mature to comment on it. But if I had it would have read something like: Oh give me an eff-ing break. You’re a lying liar that lies and this status says nothing because when it comes down to it, you are the least supportive person in the world. But I didn’t. I texted mutual friend and vented some frustration and then I went back to letting her go.
And now when I see that status elsewhere, I think of her and her lack of support. Way to ruin it for me.
