Anyway, baby showers remind me of some of the ridiculous baby items I’ve found on friends’ registries or stumbled over on the internet.  They range from the very impractical  to the ridiculously silly to the just plain wrong.  Let’s start with the useless:

1.    BabyGanics Foaming Dish Soap

For $6 bucks, you can rest assured that your tot’s sippy cups will not only be fragrance-free, but free of residue as well.  And get this–it’s NON-TOXIC.  Perfect!  So when my 5 ft. tall infant is washing his hands in the sink, he can swallow a globful of this without me having to call Poison Control!  Terrific!  BabyGanics’s superior ability to create something as innovative and original as non-toxic soap should be commended.

2. BabyGanics Lavender Scrub-A-Dub-Tile Cleaner

This safe, effective, “natural” tile cleaner will make baby’s tub sparkle (kinda like the toilet does before it’s pooped in).  And, wait for the best part– it’s lavender-scented!. . .  But natural. 

 Yeah, I got something else that works for the tub.  It’s called water and it’s free.

3. Babies R’ Us Wipe Warmer with Light

Why do people keep putting this on their lists?  Ok, I know wipes are cold and everything but will Child Care Services really pay me a visit if my child’s bottom is cold?   Did some guy really get paid for inventing this?   Guess what? I have an idea for my own patent.  Let’s call it, let’s see. . .wiping a warm wash rag over your baby’s butt  first, ya dumb-ass.  Don’t worry, I won’t charge you $26.99 for using it.

Now for the bizarre. . .

4. Zaky Infant Pillow

Besides mimicking the appearance of the Incredible Hulk (not to mention pedophiles), this hand pillow promises to imitate the touch and feel of your (unbeknownst to you), scaly icky skin.  Creepy, just creepy.

5. Baby Bangs

Who says your baby isn’t beautiful when she pops out from down under?  The maker of Baby Bangs, that’s who!  Guess it’s never too early to prime your princess for the world of plastic surgery, tanning beds, and bling-bling.

and finally. . .the just plain wrong

6. The Dream Genii Pregnancy and Nursing Pillow

It, uh, gives back support and “puts less strain” on you.  Yeah, I’d say so.  Wonder if it was the pillow that got her pregnant. Yep, she’s going to sleep well tonight!

CD 1 means many different things for all of us.  For most, I suspect, it means our dream didn’t come true the prior month (despite several well-timed sessions in the sack).  For others, we may forlornly stroke our bloated bellies which would put any 7-month preggo’s tummy to shame.   For me, and countless others, we begin to mentally prepare our schedules for doctor visits, ultrasounds, and fertility drugs.

When I rolled out of bed this morning, my first thought was “I don’t wanna go back to the RE” (well, actually it was I don’t want to go to work, but my husband bribed me with cinnamon rolls and tulips, so I went).  My last visit to the RE left me feeling pretty awful (which lead to The Big, Bad Breakdown of the Month).

If I had to give advice to anyone who is visiting the RE for the first time, (or any time really) it would be this:  Never make a late afternoon appointment.  Doctors have a difficult time differentiating your left ovary from your right; nurses are tapping their pointy, black, stiletto shoes.  They have one foot out the door .

More than anyone, I understand working all day and being desperate to get out the door. What I don’t understand is scheduling patients for an appointment that you know is going to go well past your please- forgive- me- if- I-violate it- 4:30 walk-out time. 

Last month, I had a 4:00 appointment.  I wasn’t seen until about 4:15 for my baseline ultrasound .  Since my IUI didn’t work in December, my RE wanted to know if I wanted to move onto injectables (he also uttered in an oh-by-the-way tone that my age could be an issue.)  Of course, this and moving to injectables is a more involved and costly decision that surely warrants a conversation, right?  Not according to an exasperated Nurse Stiletto who is sighing and rolling her eyes and who is just so damn inconvenienced that she has to do a little paperwork before she heads out to her promising social life.  Yeah, she literally left the office less than one minute after I made it down the stairs.  I saw her in the parking lot and had to restrain myself from overusing my gas pedal.

Needless to say, I didn’t do the injectables that month largely for financial reasons, but also because I felt like I had been pushed out of the office and treated like a trespasser.  Honestly, I think Mr. RE would have taken more time to answer my questions if it hadn’t been for hell on heels.  By the end of the appointment, I felt so overwhelmed and emotional that I just wanted to get the hell out of there.   Mr. RE may have merely laid out options for me, but all that went through my head was “You’re going to need shots and it might already be too late.”

Maybe you can see why I’m not so eager to go back tomorrow.  I’m already an emotional wreck and any off-hand comment or gesture, whether intended or not, has the potential to lead to a breakdown. 

So there you have it:  Never make the last appointment of the day, and let me add, be wary of a nurse in black stilettos.    

I know FB is full of crappy insensitive posts.   I scroll through and see the same garbage and my reaction is “So F-ing what!” 

As infertility continues to dominate my life, I’ve learned how to anticipate the ways of social media and some social interactions as well.  See an old acquaintance in a store who you know is going to ask “Are You pregnant yet (moron)?  Duck down another aisle!   Got a “friend” who is always going on about her adorable tow-headed tot?  Start an intense game of Angry Birds on your phone while she babbles away!

Yep, I’ve toughened myself up these last couple of days.

Then, why did my day go straight to hell when I opened this email at work?:

As I checked my work emails, I got this one from a co-worker that said “You are invited.”   I innocently thought that someone was sending me an invitation to yet another jewelry/purse/cookware party.  But no, I get this glaring, loud, in-your face  reminder about what I don’t have. 

Besides the obvious reasons, this email sucked for three additional reasons.

1)  I have always wanted a little girl.  I dream about her always and wonder if I will ever get the chance to be her mother.

2) Work is a place I can go to get away from obsessing over RE visits, time, and finances (well, I try).  When I open an email, I expect it to be work-related.  If you’re going to drop a bomb like this, at least have the courtesy to warn me in the damn subject line.

3) The shower is for a guy (his wife works someplace else), who I will call Sir You’re So Vain.  Sir You’re So Vain and his wife, from my calculations, literally got married, got pregnant the same month and are delivering a baby precisely 9 months later.   A girl.  That would suck on its own but Sir You’re So Vain, for lack of better terms, is an ass.

Despite prepping myself to be a savvy, yet tough social media user, I fell apart after I opened this email.  Maybe it’s the fact that I want a little girl, maybe it was the colorful graphics and pink lettering, or maybe it’s hormonal.

After I called my husband who convinced me to postpone my huge, down-and-out monthly meltdown (which isn’t necessarily associated with PMS), I felt better.  I was sad, but then I got angry.  I get it.  I know that it is perfectly acceptable to send non-related work emails to your colleagues at your job.   I know that it is trendy and cute to have a baby shower and invite everyone you know  I know that others do not know about my personal situation.  I just wish, for the sake of all that is holy, that people would just think about their actions before they do them.  At work, there is at least one other infertile who is very open about her condition.  Wonder how she felt when she opened that email?

ATTENTION EASY FERTILES:  SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!

GRRRRR!   Just GRRRR!

I ended up leaving comments on blogs that I was familiar with, not necessarily on the list, and quite a few that were on the list.  Here are a few things I took away from the experience:

1)  Blogspot sure does have a lot of technical issues (maybe the site should be renamed NotBlogspot or Non-Blogger),

2) Quite a few of you are now prepping for the grandaddy of all fertility treatments, the IVF.

3) Many of you are able to stay optimistic despite the lemons infertility has handed you.  (You guys are an inspiration for all of us).

4) A lot of you have found the ability to express the feelings of  loss so beautifully and poetically, you could have a career in writing.

and finally. . .

5) We all have hope.

I met many new women during this experience.  Some who had been TTCing for quite a while, some visiting the RE for the first time, and others who had loved and lost.  Even through the tears and agitation and “funks”, I could read between the lines to discover that these women still have hope. 

It’s been posted on various blogs, but here is the poem by Emily Dickinson, once again:

Hope is the Thing With Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Whether you are into poetry or not, these words will move you.  How many of us have had hope in our hearts?  Sometimes, that hope might be more obvious, bursting in our souls, but most of the time I believe it is silent, but significant.  I believe it’s the glimmer of hope that propels us forward.  Our circumstances might seem dire, but hope has the ability to protect us from an uncertain world, without demanding something in return.

Just as the cranberry thread or bracelet is the unofficial official symbol of infertility, I think this should be the unofficial official poem of infertility.  It is short, sensational, and universal. 

Hope is what I took away from my first ICLW experience.  If you guys have hope, maybe I should too.  Thank you!

Even if I can bribe someone to walk me in blindfolded, I will still be feeling a host of emotions when I go.  It was at last year’s annual exam, that I spoke to my ob/gyn about my difficulties getting pregnant.   Well fast-forward one year and many ultrasounds later and I’m empty-handed and brokenhearted.  Guess what I’m going to be thinking about during my pelvic examination? Let’s hope that my river-crying breakdown/screaming fit with my husband/pets, let it-all-out while driving in heavy traffic episode of the month doesn’t correlate with this appointment.

As much as I don’t want to make this appointment, part of me actually wants to visit my ob-gyn again.  Why?  Read below:

1)  My ob-gyn is friendly and empathetic.  She makes conversation while she’s fondling my boobs, which certainly makes the situation less awkward for both of us.

2) The receptionist smiles (even if it is a fake grin) and says hello.

3) Everything is so shiny, bright, and white. (kind of like a negative pregnancy test–just kidding)

4) The examination room is  girly and cozy.  There are pictures of cool shoes like wedge sandals on the wall and photos of bubbly, happy, blonde babies.  The stirrups even have warm footies (usually in purple or hot pink) on them and you get a full-length cloth gown to cover up. 

Do you see why I’m sold?

Here is a breakdown of my RE’s office:

1) The receptionist (to her credit is polite and friendly), but I feel taken aback every time she slams that glass window shut after I hand her my paperwork.

2) Nurse Stiletto (more on her in another post) is super-organized and knowledgeable, but yet, she is still Nurse Stiletto (sigh)

3) Mr. RE is a nice-enough fellow, knows his stuff, and I sincerely believe does not want to merely take my money.  He answers my questions, but sometimes I need a little more support than just a pat on the back on the way out.  (Yes, he really pats my back.  I guess this is his way of being comforting?) 

4)  The examination room is, well, private, but seems a little dark and yellow.  Instead of a full-length gown, patients are given this half paper-towel gown to cover themselves from the waist down.  I can’t tell you the number of times I have waddled frantically from the bathroom to the exam area, paper clutched around waist, hoping against hope that I make  it to the exam table before the RE walks in.  I mean, he sees my vagina.  Can’t I at least keep the image of my butt sacred?!

I am ready for the shiny and the bright–permanently!  I want girly at all my doctor visits!  I want a transvaginal ultrasound where I see a baby in my uterus!   I want one of those beautiful, blonde babies in the photographs on the wall (ok, maybe not those, per se; they are the ob-gyn’s children and it wouldn’t be nice to kidnap them).  I just want happy.  Is that so wrong?

These are famous last words by someone named Simon Bolivar.  Of course I had never heard of Bolivar (well, maybe somewhere) or this quote until I read Looking for Alaska by John Green a couple of years ago.  Here is the entire quote:

 “He was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness. “Damn it,” he sighed. “How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!”

These words, or rather this question, have been on my mind today.  For those of you who don’t know (and I certainly didn’t until I looked it up) a labyrinth is similar to a maze or tunnel–one you get easily lost in.  A labyrinth of suffering, so to speak.

I flipped through some old calendars today to count the number of cycles I have been TTC. 

I am on cycle 29.

 Two years ago, I honestly thought cycle 1 marked the start of a short journey.   Like everyone else, I assumed I would conceive a child in a few months.  I was happy and hopeful.  I think I actually glowed at the mere idea of being a mother.  Now I wonder if I’d even recognize that same glowing girl if I saw her.

Today, I asked myself a question I didn’t think I ever would:  Do I even want a child any more or do I just want my suffering to be over?  If I relinquish suffering, do I have to give up the one thing that would make me complete?

I try to have faith.  I believe in God and I believe in science.   But, how much does one person have to endure?  I’ve got to a point where I am just plain tired.  Tired of the what-if’s, tired of the maybe’s, tired of the unanswered questions. 

I feel so lost in this maze, this place I’m expected to navigate but have never been to.  I keep telling myself that there is a way out–somewhere away from this labyrinth of suffering.   

Happy January–the most desolate, depressing month of the year.

No dropping of the P-bomb, no in-your-face ultrasounds, and no little pictures of developing fetuses via the Baby Gaga app.

Maybe I’ve hidden all the holier-than-thou fertiles.  Maybe they are busy making other babies.  Maybe they have decided to do the world a favor and have themselves sterilized.

No, I am frightened because I know what this means.  It’s going to start raining soon.  Pouring more like it.  I will soon be avalanched by a mountain of pregnancy announcement statuses.  Yes, I can hide them and delete them, but why should I go stand in a corner?  I am a firm believer that the best offense is a good defense.  If fertiles are free to boast about their baby-making abilities and their superior mommy skills why can’t I brag about my infertility?  Here are a few pre-made status updates to counter the dreaded Facebook pregnancy announcement:

Status #1 (Everybody loves to take a trip down memory lane):

“On this day one year ago, my RE blessed me with the gift of unexplained infertility.  My heart beams with pride as I realize only one in eight women receive this honor.  I now have the privilege to re-evaluate all my goals I’ve ever had in my life.  I look forward to what the coming year may bring for us.”

Status #2 (Who says ultrasound pictures have to contain babies?)

“My ovarian cyst has now grown to 2 cm.  This is about the size of a small grape and has more than doubled in size since last month.  As the cyst grows, more cancelled IUI sessions are sure to follow.”

Status # 3 (When you feel left out of the whole announcement thing. . .)

“It’s been a long day at the doctor’s office.  After a year and a half of medications, shots, ultrasounds, and other medical interventions, my husband and I just have to announce. . . No, we’re still not pregnant.”

Status #4 (When you want to get a little laugh out of your friends. . .)

“Took little Abby to get her boosters today.  Mommy’s brave little girl!  Then, Kyle got sick and puked all over my Manolo Blahnik’s.  I hope soon baby to be #3 is just like them. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .JK!!  I can’t have babies.  I’m infertile, remember?”

Status #5 (And. . .my personal fave to all you smug fertiles out there.)

“Like” my status for a big ‘ole F * * * You!

That about sums it up!

I have never felt “old” a day in my life, but would you believe that some doctors would consider me to be of “advanced maternal age?’   Quite the lovely moniker isn’t it?  Kinda makes you think of your grandma.

I can’t help but think back to the girl I was 15 years ago.  I didn’t know it at the time, but those were my carefree, glory days.  My main concern was having enough money to buy nice clothes and whether I should cut and highlight my long, dark hair.   I took myself seriously, but still could laugh at myself in the mirror.   Life, still brimming with opportunities and promises, was soon to be sweeter.  My sister-in-law Elle (name has been changed), who had been married to my brother for just under two years, announced her pregnancy.  I was going to be an aunt for the first time! 

I’ll never forget the day, Elle made the big announcement in the family kitchen.  Most of us already knew, but to my other sister-in-law, who I will call “Cee”, it was the first time she heard the news.  Needless to say, she burst into sobs.    She cried that she had wanted to be the first in the family to have a baby–to be the first to bring a grandchild into the family.  I can still remember standing in the corner thinking that, sure, it would have been nice for Cee to have the first baby (she had been married much longer after all, but it was obviously Elle’s turn, so we should focus on her).

But to Cee, it wasn’t about having the first baby:  it was about having a baby, period.  Cee and my brother had been trying to conceive for about two years out of their seven-year marriage.  I vaguely knew of their struggles and knew what certain medical terms meant, but couldn’t fully appreciate what it meant to be infertile.  I only saw the situation in terms of my own experiences which were very limited.  As the months passed, Cee almost reached the point of hostility towards Elle, accusing her of getting pregnant just to torment her.   She said some pretty cruel things to Elle and that upset me because I hated conflict. 

At the time, I did not have the maturity or personal framework to support Cee.  Like most people, I only was concerned about what I wanted out of my own life–to finish college, marry, form friendships, etc.  I honestly wanted Cee to have a baby, but she and I never had a conversation about it.  I stayed away from her.  Her constant breakdowns made me uncomfortable.  I did the unthinkable–I judged her at one of the lowest points in her life. 

It never occured to me that Cee probably felt a large lump in her throat every time she saw a pregnant woman.  It never occured to me that Cee’s behavior was a reaction to the helplessness she felt inside. It never even crossed my mind that she spent many restless nights laying in bed wondering “Why me?”  I hadn’t realized that her life revolved around a calendar, a thermometer and darkness.   When she held my newborn nephew in her arms at the hospital, with tears streaming down her face, it never occured to me that she was experiencing the rawest form of grief anyone could ever imagine.  

Fast-forward to the present, I understand the place Cee was because I am now living it.  Yep, life’s funny like that.  I couldn’t support Cee through her ordeal because I was too busy being me.   Now I can write a book about it. 

This makes me realize that people are only, well, people.  In the fertility world, they say and do the most asinine, imbeclic, thoughtless things to those who struggle, but only because they have never walked in your shoes.   I hope this realization leads me to a path of forgiveness to those who have made my struggle harder.  It’s a start at least.

One month after Cee held my nephew in her arms, she became pregnant with her own baby.  She gave birth to her son that November and now has a daughter with her second husband.  I don’t see her very often, but I wish I could tell her that I understand now, that I’m sorry.  Ask for forgiveness for my thoughtless actions.  Maybe somebody–someday.

“How was your day?”

“Wasn’t the staff meeting beneficial?”

-Unbelievable!

“How was your visit with the inlaws?”

-Unbelievable!

You get the picture.  I had an unbelievable year.  No, actually I was blessed with many things.  Anyway, I found this New Year’s template on Journey to the Finish Line’s blog who got it from Unruffled Lanie who got it from All and Sundry.  Many thanks to you all!  Here we go!  Fun, fun, fun:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

*  Met my new best friend, Mr. RE, who had the pleasure of giving me my first ultrasound experiences.

*  Had an HSG from my OB-GYN (I’ve yet to erase this memory).

*  Injected myself with medicines (woo-hoo!!–who says it’s not fun to give yourself a shot that makes your pregnancy test turn false positive!?)

*  OK, enough of the fertility stuff–went on a cruise of the southern Caribbean 

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?


 I didn’t make any and won’t.  They put too much pressure on people because they will forget about them in a week’s time and feel like a failure.  Feeling like a failure in the beginning of the year does not set a good tone for the remaing 11 months.  I’d rather focus on a few short-term goals like seeing the bottom of my laundry hamper.

 3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

*   My friend, Melissa, gave birth in September.  She told me she wanted to get me pregnant as well.  I told her girls couldn’t get girls pregnant.

 *  About a half dozen or so on Fertilitybook, oh, um, that’s Facebook.  I wouldn’t say that I am particularly close to them but their news always seems to find a way to me.

4. Did anyone close to you die?


No.  I am very thankful for this.

5. What countries did you visit?

 I don’t know about countries but we visited Aruba (is this an island or country, or both?), Curacao, and Princess Cays, Bahamas.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

*A baby or 2

*Self-confidence

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

*  January 20th ish-Visit to ob-gyn for annual and to discuss fertility

*  September somethingish-1st visit to the RE

*  December 5-Ist IUI

*  December 16-last day of work for a while; leave for cruise

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?


Gosh, I don’t know.  I guess the fact that I overcame my fear and visited the RE in the first place.  Though I have no baby, I have gone through a lot of preliminary testing in one year.

 9. What was your biggest failure?

Not getting pregnant, though I’m beginning to realize,(finally), that this is not a failure because I honestly did everything I could to make this happen.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Other than having the infertility monster follow me everywhere I go and having a lingering sinus infection, I have to say no.  This is a huge difference from 2010 in which I broke my ankle and slid down the side of a mountain, though these were two different episodes

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I don’t think I really bought anything that has made me jump up and down though I do have access to an iPad2.

12. Where did most of your money go?

Student loans, car payments, and, of course, to the Infertility Monster.

13. What did you get really excited about?

Probably blogging and joining a gym

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?

*  If I Die Young by The Band Perry (even though it didn’t come out in 2011).  I thought about this song when a local boy from a nearby community died in a motorcycle accident. On his final day of his high-school career, he signed a deal with a university, attended his senior day picnic with his classmates and died the same day.  He would have graduated from high school one week later.

*  The House that Built Me by Miranda Lambert–Just because 

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:


*  Happier or sadder? Probably sadder, but I am trying to be happier

 *  Thinner or fatter? Honestly, the same but I’ve been eating Zebra Cakes and Krispy Kreme doughnuts all week because I feel entitled due to a failed IUI.  We’ll see what happens to my mid-section.

*  Richer or poorer? Poorer, infertility ain’t cheap!

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?


*  Crafts

*  Spent more time with family and friends

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?


*  Worry

*  Slept (helps me not to worry LOL)

 18. How did you spend Christmas?

*  Went on a cruise the week before Christmas

 *  Christmas Day–at home with husband then visited my parents and family that night

19. What was your favorite TV program?

*  The Big Bang Theory

*  The Young and the Restless (or as my husband puts it, The Old and the Geriatric)

20. What were your favorite books of the year?

*  Moon Over Manifest

*  The Help

*  Matched

21. What was your favorite music from this year?


*  Adele

*  Katy Perry

22. What were your favorite films of the year?

*  Bridesmaids

*  True Grit

*  The Help

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

*  Turned 35 (I don’t look a day past 21, ok maybe 25 and I sure don’t feel it)

*  I got a lot of well-wishes from my family and friends

*  Went out to eat at the awesome California Dreaming restaurant

*  My husband got me a cute charm for my bracelet

 24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Hmmn, let me think.  A baby.  Just throwing that out there.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

That’s easy.  I bought way less because:

*  Clothes can’t fill the void in my life

*  I don’t have any money for clothes

*  I now hate trying on clothes because I hate how my tummy looks in them

*  I have no room in my closet or drawers

*  Cleaning out my closet was hard work

*  My cat finds them and makes them her new toy.

26. What kept you sane?

*  My husband and family

*  God

*  Blogging

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.


*  Never judge anyone else until you’ve walked in their shoes

*  Count your blessings

*  You are not as bad as you think (you actually rock)

*  Never give someone else your antibiotics (even if they demand them and you don’t know how to respond)  because you will need them and your pharmacist will act like she is doing you a favor by refusing to do a refill. 

*  Never plan a vacation around Christmas

*  Never leave dogs home alone around said vacation around Christmas because the dogs will overpoop the house the same day you return as retribution for your leaving in the first place. 

 Happy 2012!  Babies to you!!

*  “Maybe this miscarriag­e was God’s way of telling her to stop trying to have kids!” (maybe your ignorance is God’s way of telling you to shut-up)

*  ”Yikes, her last baby was premature and almost died. I don’t think it’s going to getter any better for her in the future. I think her body is telling her something and she should listen to it for the sake of the whole family.” (didn’t know bodies could speak, but ok)

*   ”Think the almighty might be trying to tell you something. It is wrong to have so many kids, there is no way you could give all of them an appropriat­e amount of attention.”

*  “That’s what you get for treating your uterus as a weapon of culture war.”  (huh?)

*  “I still don’t understand why they would try to create another life, after they saw the suffering of the last baby they had.”

*  “She and her husband have made a spectacle of themselves and their procreativ­e promiscuit­y by putting their family in a reality TV show.” (promiscuity–are we even talking about the same show?)

“In the article HP printed yesterday, it said the Duggars wanted privacy in their time of grief. Yeah, right. I’ll bet my Bank of America debit fee that there will be a thousand TV cameras just waiting for Michelle Duggar after the funeral, while she cries a bunch of crocodile tears for her loss of this child.” (hmmn–”loss of child” and “crocodile tears”-didn’t know someone was low enough to put these in the same sentence)

Honestly, I am not surpised by their responses.  I am pissed though.  Not because their reactions only validate the notion that the world at large cannot relate to the IF community.  People cannot help their ignorance.  What bothers me the most is the cruelty behind the words.

In the eyes of the public, Michelle Duggar and her reproductive abilities are critciized for three main reasons 1) She has 19 children.  2)  She is 45 years old and 3) She suffered a life-threatening pregnancy before she became pregnant with number 20.

I’ll be honest: when she annouced pregnancy #18 and #19 my reaction was similar to the comments above.  I thought she was “too old” to have any additional children.  I wished, or rather demanded, that she be happy with the number she already had and believed she was a fool for not sterilizing herself after her difficult pregnancy with Josie.  Then, infertility entered my life and my world was changed. 

I find it interesting that so many people correlate the number of children she has had with this miscarriage.  It’s funny how everyone becomes an expert when fertility is involved, isn’t it?  The truth is that she could have one baby or 30 babies at this point; none of them caused her to miscarry this child. Neither did her tumultous pregnancy with Josie.  If the pseudo-doctors of the world are going to make a diagnosis, they should at least get their facts straight.

Perhaps what is so damning about these comments is how they imply God caused the miscarriage because he knew no other way to tell Michelle Duggar she shouldn’t have more children.  I find it ironic that these people are likely the same who have never cracked a Bible or attended church a day in their life.  Yet, in the world of fertility, they seem to be divine prophets from God.  As an infertile, hearing a comment from someone that ‘God doesn’t want this’ or ‘God doesn’t want that’ from me is treading on hallowed ground.  Like many of you, my relationship with God is intimate, personal and intensely trusting.  Someone who maliciously intrudes upon this relationship is abominable.

So, should Michelle Duggar have more children?  Is she a fool for having the number she has had?  That is not for me to answer, simply because I am not Michelle.  I have tried to put myself in her shoes;  Does someone have the right to tell me I shouldn’t have children because I am 35 and my husband is 42?  Do I have the “right” to seek infertility treatments when I have bills that are unpaid?  Should I not consider IUI or IVF because it is not natural?  I don’t know about you, but no one has the right to make these decisions for me except myself, my husband, and my doctor. 

I know the pain from not being able to conceive a child.  It is a devastating, deplorable condition I would not wish on anyone, even if they already have 19 children.  If I grieve every month for the child I have never created, doesn’t Michelle have the right to grieve for the child she carried three months in her body,even if she is 45?

Is it fair that Michelle has 19 children when I (and others) have none?  No.  Is it fair that she can conceive a baby by merely thinking about it?  No.  Will it hurt like hell when she makes her next pregnancy annoucement?  Yes, definitely!  Though I am a bitter infertile and seem to lose a little more of my ability to stay logical and rational every day, I must hold on to my empathy for others.  It is part of what is left of me.