What Not To Say

“Just relax. Don’t think about it”  

Just relax. I’ve been wanting to write about those two words for a long time. 

We just got our mid-preggo ultrasound. We were positively giddy that day, not just finding out that Honey’s a girl, but just seeing her face and tangled up limbs and tiny hands waving. I was nearly in tears watching our next daughter. But earlier this month, as the appointment had been approaching, I kept remembering a different ultrasound, when we were having trouble getting pregnant and were getting several tests. At these appointments, I dreaded the waiting rooms, surrounded by women with swollen, full bellies; some burdened by the discomforts; some with the peaceful contented air of being pregnant, all a reminder that I was Not. 

I remember this particular time, in the exam room in that lovely paper-towel gown, surrounded by posters of babies and ultrasound pictures, sweet white and black and grey blobs, and I felt very empty. I felt helpless. I felt guilty that I wanted more with an already wonderful child. I felt self conscious and nervous for bad news, or just no helpful news.  You don’t know until you’ve looked at dozens of pregnancy tests, hoping after several minutes that maybe a tiny faint line will appear though it never does, or seeing the 1,394,493 pregnant women walking around, how words like “Just relax; don’t think about it” aren’t just unhelpful when you are trying to get pregnant. They cut straight to the heart.

I asked many of my friends who have battled infertility what they felt during this time - some for months; some for nearly a decade - what comments drove them crazy; what made them feel supported.  Every story was different, whether they conceived or not, naturally or via a procedure; birth or surrogacy or adoption; diagnosed problems, medical mysteries; the heartbreaking miscarriages; the attempts, the hopes, the disappointments, and the healing…. Every couple, every person is different. No one deals with it or heals from the trials in the same way. But an amazing number of common threads wound their way through our journeys. One of which was things Not to say to someone trying to get pregnant. I should say, no one has ever been purposefully hurtful by any means, and Everyone has said the wrong thing at some point, including myself. However, I gathered from our experience and several of my friends some pointers on Phrases To Avoid when inquiring about growing families. For example: 

• One of my favorites: “Just relax.” Thank you for inducing more stress and self-blame, as if that were lacking. People like me will only stress that we are stressing, then feel guilty that we are stressing, then realize that’s more stress, which will only keep us from getting pregnant. It is a brutal cycle.  Thanks for the tip folks. You should also tell someone who clinically struggles with depression to “Just be happy.” 
• “At least you can drink now.”  Congratulations. You understand very little about priorities when wanting a family. This Budlight totally makes up for the year I’ve spent hoping for a child. 
• “It will happen for you; what’s mean to be…” (Note: worst when coming from someone pregnant). Most of us rationally and logically understand that we will likely have a child some way, somehow, sometime. That doesn’t take away from the current and very real unknown that can at times settle in like a fog around us. 
• “When are you going to have kids already?? Why are you waiting so long?” One of my friends said this broke her heart every time someone asked. After three months of meds after a year of trying, she’s wondering the same thing, but in a much heavier way. Inquire kindly. There can be so much more to the story. 
• “Once my best friend stopped trying, she got pregnant right away. Just stop trying.” This is great for your best friend, for anyone who struggled and then was able to conceive. But the reason for them conceiving is likely not because they stopped caring about it or wanting a child. And unfortunately, there are some who, once they stopped trying, still never got pregnant. Is this because they were still secretly trying?  Shame on them. 
• “It’s God’s plan.” There are a lot of faiths out there. There is also a lot of science. While myself and many others I’m friends with believe in a higher power and wouldn’t trade the children we have (or the struggles it took to get them) for anything, please do not tell me to have faith in what the Lord has planned for me. I don’t think God is a man in the clouds who suddenly decides to switch on a Preggo light in my life when he feels like it, for the same reason I don’t believe there is a God who answers prayers for one child with cancer but Whose Will it is to take another. If anything, God is a woman, a mother, who struggled with infertility for years (you know, like millions), until she found a lovely surrogate couple by the name of Mary and Joseph and arranged a pretty good open adoption situation with them. Hail Mary, full of grace, indeed. 
• “It will happen when you least expect it.” Given that we know our exact ovulation date, chances are when it does happen, it will be exactly in the five days surrounding that little egg dropping…so yes, I will expect it. While some may not expect their egg to be dropping because they have no reason to track such things, those of us who are very aware, know that timing, in fact, does matter, and it’s often a relief to be aware of it rather than guessing. 
• On that note, “Oh my god! We’re pregnant! It was a total accident!” or “Whoopsie; we just look at each other and get pregnant.”  This only rubs salt into the wound. It’s like laughing about acing a huge test without studying to a person who’s worked their ass off all semester - only it’s not a test; it’s someone’s dream for a family. Have some tact.
• “This is normal and common.” A physician actually said this to a friend who had just had a miscarriage. While knowing that you are not alone is very comforting, someone brushing it off as insignificant or run-of-the-mill is painful when everything that is happening feels the exactly opposite.
• “You have to keep it fun in the bedroom.”  Oh thanks, Anastasia Steele, but this ain’t 50 Shades of Grey. How freaky we get in sheets is our business. Some couples really struggle with this aspect, and that’s beyond personal and private. But even when you feel great about your relationship, both physical and beyond, it is simply not necessary to justify that your sex life is awesome.
• “Don’t think about it.” Please, please stop saying this. To tell someone not to think about their hopes and dreams is ridiculous. Whether it’s after another month of heightened hope only to be crushed with that stupid monthly cycle or a negative test or the actual loss of a pregnancy….the hurt, and disappointment, and grief and ups and downs of this journey will occupy our minds. To dismiss it so casually is insulting. Of course we will think about it; and perhaps you should too before commenting in such ways. 

End Long Rant.

Some things I and many other women found helpful were: 

• Validation. Simple, honest validation. Someone saying, “Man that sucks. I’m sorry this is so hard.” can be the biggest support. 
• “Be Kind To Yourself” - This is very different from the advice to relax. This is acknowledging that there are hard, difficult feelings to work through, and to give yourself the patience and time to do so on a honest and real level. Permission to do this is sometimes very much needed. 
• Sharing. Whether it was another couple who had a miscarriage or had struggled with infertility for years, finding someone who has walked in those shoes can be hard when both subjects are kind of taboo.  I have a couple friends who talked about how alone they felt during their hardest times, therefore are very open about what they went through so that if someone else needs to talk, they won’t feel like they are on an island by themselves. 
• Perspective and awareness. Knowing I had friends who had it worse gave me perspective. Their strength was inspiring, and their support meant the world, and reminded me to put my big girl panties on and look at the big picture. 

Sheaff and I are lucky. We had a pretty amazing support system; we had family,  we had Adalyn, we had friends who had been through this, we had a care provider who cared; we had many loved ones who said all of the right things, checked in regularly, and walked this journey With Us, rather than blindly shouting advice at us. But regardless of how folks walk or where they are on their journey, being aware of what Kind of Journey this is can make all the difference.  To our people who did that for us, thank you.  To my friends who shared their ups and downs and stories on this subject, thank you; you are wonderful souls with brave and open hearts. <3