There is something that happens with people when they have children, particularly after they've had miscarriages and they know you have had miscarriages too. They seem to feel they have a license to ask you nosey questions about what you're doing, and what tests you've had, and what you're going to do "when or if" we decide to try again.
Even after I say "we're done trying", this particular person I'm ranting about thinks that somehow relating the fact that SHE had 3 losses too before popping out X number of kids in a row, that somehow I can or should do it too.
This person is not anyone from the support boards I belong to (so don't worry, my friends, you DO have more license to ask since we've all walked through hell together), but this person is an old friend of my husband's, who I've met all of a handful of times in my life. Upon some medical training, she decided to call me up this morning and pump me for information about what we're doing, all under the assumption that I need her help & support.
Now, I know it's well-intentioned...but this isn't about her intentions. It's about how it makes me feel. This is my blog, my vent, and here it is.
It has taken me a long time to accept the fact that I am not likely to pop out any biological children. I have worked on a lot of my feelings to arrive at peace with it, and have reflected on this for a very long time to come to the conclusion that I will NOT walk through fire (or any other miscarriages) to arrive at parenthood. Why is it that people whose experiences are different from mine can't accept that I am not on the same path as them? What is it about "It worked for me" that makes them think "It'll work for you"?
We do not all live parallel lives, and just because you've had an equal number of miscarriages with the same lack of medical explanation, does not make a magic bullet for it to work for me. We are biologically, emotionally and otherwise very different from each other, so twins we are not.
This gal is not the first, but by far is the most intrusive, primarily because I barely know her, but she seems to feel that her longstanding friendship from college with my DH somehow gives her license to call me up and ask.
I guess it's just one of those days where I wish people would mind their own damn business and not make my fertility part of theirs, particularly when they haven't been through these losses with me, or know me well enough to know that I'm not some victim of the medical establishment, but someone who has armed herself with all the knowledge I could and testing that one person can expect to withstand.
What probably upset me the most, was that I said "We're done, we're moving on, and looking into adoption," to which she started telling me about how THEY started looking into adoption too before they got their first pregnancy to stick, and how upset she was over the way the adoption agency gave lists of how much it cost to adopt kids of different racial backgrounds, etc. etc.
I don't need to hear how adoption was so upsetting and scary. If that's your experience, fine. I ALREADY KNOW it's a scary proposition, and that difficult decisions must be made. CONGRATULATE me that I've even gotten this far, or just put a sock in it.
OK, I'm done. Next time I'll just say "would you like to talk to DH?" so at least it's not me answering any questions.