Monday, July 11, 2011

No One Wins in the Pain Olympics

I'm not sure what it is about human nature that makes us want to compare our experiences with others. I'd like to think it comes from a "good" place of wanting to relate to others and provide reassurance/hope/whatever. It's probably equally likely that it's trying an attempt to validate our own feelings and try to find someone who can relate to what we've been through and to understand us.

One thing I've learned while dealing with IF, is that you really can't understand what someone else is going through without going through it yourself. And since no one will have the exact same history/background, even similar experiences will never be the same for any 2 people.

Even knowing this I still get pulled into the trap of comparisons. I feel like it's so much harder with my IRL friends than my lovely e-friends. I have a friend from work who has been dealing with unexplained IF (unless they've gotten a new dx and I don't know). As much as I try, I cannot figure out how to relate to her or talk about IF stuff without wanting to smack my head against a wall.

She and her husband took a very relaxed "see what happens" approach to TTC - I can't relate to that. Once I went off BC it was on (like Donkey Kong). When we hit a year I scheduled an appointment with a doctor. I couldn't have waited the 2 or 3 years they did.

We did our testing somewhere around the same time. When her husband's SA came back she was disappointed that it was normal because she didn't want it to be something wrong with her. Before DH got his SA, I prayed that it would be normal - I can't even imagine ever hoping for a male factor issue (if there was a problem I wanted the "control").

Since they are unexplained, in my head that means they have a chance of spontaneous conception and possibly a good chance at IVF working (even though I know after all of this a spontaneous pregnancy probably isn't a good chance...and to her it might as well be a 0% chance). For us it that chance isn't there at all. And right now there is an extreme jealousy issue on my part.

She was on long lupron for her first IVF and was cancelled for low response - I can't imagine how scary and crushing that is... I know I can't since even though I didn't get tons of eggs I responded ok. She'd had good response to oral meds, so I was optimistic for her (it's always easier to hope for someone else than yourself, isn't it?) that a change of protocol could be what she needed.

Her 2nd attempt she had 14 follicles and retrieved 10. They had 2 to transfer and 1 to freeze. I can't relate to this at all. In my head, she has it all. She has a real chance of this IVF working and it hurts like crap. My last real life IF friend and I'm getting left behind.

On Friday (day before her beta) she mentioned that she didn't know which would be worse having had no embryos or going through the 2ww and finding out the cycle didn't work. Shouldn't I be glad she didn't have to find out? Be happy that she had 2 blasts to transfer and one on ice? Instead I was so angry that she'd even question it. I don't know which is worse. Is there a worse? Isn't it a bunch of BS all around? I can say from experience that not having an embryo to transfer is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. It didn't hurt less the 2nd or 3rd time. It could have been more expected or I could have been more numb to it but it wasn't better one time over another.

I didn't get a message over the weekend or today that her IVF didn't work. It could be that she isn't ready to talk about it not working or she doesn't know how to tell me it did. I couldn't really blame her after a comment I made Friday afternoon - one I wish I could have taken back as soon as it slipped out.

So when I should be hoping all the best for her, my major emotions are fear that I'm going to be left behind as the most infertile infertile, anger that there is so much more potential hurt and disappointment in the future, and sadness at how alone I feel since I don't have anyone left IRL who I feel can even remotely relate to this hell and the disappointment we've already experienced.

4 comments:

Unknown said...

(((HUGS))) I agree, that nobody will truly understand your struggle, even other infertiles, because we are each different with different experiences. I have found myself wondering if I would feel better had I ever gotten a bfp even if it was followed by a miscarriage. I don't know the answer, but I know it would still suck. While I have certainly not had the exact same experience as yours, I have been through a cycle that went to transfer with no success and a cycle that didn't go to transfer and I can tell you that her comment to you was inappropriate and nearsighted. She can't possibly know what she would rather have had happen without having experienced that option herself. For the record, I would gladly go to transfer even with e bfn outcome than have absolutely no chance at all. xoxo

nikinikinine said...

Oh Gidge. So what I'm going to say may not make sense at all, but here's where I am with things. We are TTC again too. Going back for a FET. One of my husband's fertile myrtle friends and his wife (whom I loathe anyway) were at our house and they are also TTC #3. They are the type that sneeze on each other and conceive. I fucking hate them for many reasons. This is absolutely one of them. After they left, I started crying because it isn't fair that I have to worry about whether we'll ever be able to conceive again and other people don't have this worry at all. Then, I started crying harder because I felt guilty because there are people out there who aren't even where we are and maybe I should just shut my pie hole and be thankful and humble and move on. My husband said to me - and this is the point of all my bullshit rambling - that I don't need to feel bad about feeling bad. That yes, in life, it's normal to compare yourself to others. There will always be people that have it better than you and people that have it worse than you, but their situation doesn't negate yours.

It's helpful to compare because comparisons make us feel less alone, and sometimes they even make us feel better about our situations (sad, but true). Don't beat yourself up for being human.

And we all make stupid bullshit comments when we are wrestling with our own fertility. I remember saying - "I wish I would get pregnant, even if I miscarried, at least then I'd know I could get pregnant" to a friend of mine that had multiple miscarriages. Then I lost our first child and it fucking crushed my soul and I realized what a giant douchebag I was for even letting those words pass my lips, and to someone who had already had this loss no less.

It's so easy to think that my pain is greater than yours or your chances are better than mine or that you'd trade situations with someone. But the reality is, it all fucking sucks no matter where you are on the spectrum of IF. Once the option to make a child is taken out of your hands, it all fucking sucks. There are no degrees of better and worse, it's just (as you said) different.

G said...

I know things like this are a bizarre thing to compare. I read somewhere that if everyone was able to pile up their troubles/challenges/whatever it was and we could choose which to take, we'd all probably chose our own.

It's probably right.

I think most of my freak out is coming from the place that I want to be happy for her but I can't quite make that happen... I am glad she didn't have a BFN and I hope her pregnancy continues on smoothly. I just don't think I'll ever be able to support her the way I want to and I wonder if I'll have to start avoiding her at work as her belly starts to grow.

One thing is for sure - time and experience haven't helped me deal with any of this more gracefully ;)

Jo said...

I loved that line -- "the infertilest infertile." That's how I feel after almost 10 years TTC. I've been lapped by everyone, over and over again. And you're exactly right -- no one understands completely. After my first miscarriage, my husband tried to comfort me with stories of coworkers, friends, etc. who had been through the same thing. I asked him how many of them tried for 7 years to conceive their children, or spent nearly $30,000 in the attempt? Sadly, none. So I totally understand feeling like you are on an island -- and no one will every "get" what its like to be you.