Monday, June 11, 2012


My mom has turned into a surprising listener to my IF emotions in the last few months.  I don’t get to see her very often, but I now feel like I can talk to her about a few of these things.  I reached out to her about my emotions in December and she has sat up and started to take notice of things.  She admitted that she knew I was suffering, but didn’t know how to approach me about our infertility.  She was waiting for me to bring it up since I am generally a private person and don’t talk about my emotions.  How surprised she would be if she found this blog!  I think that being raised in a family with 6 children I just grew accustomed to keeping my feelings in.  It seems like there are a couple of my siblings that have always required more time and emotions from my parents, and still do to this day.  It took a lot for me to reach out to her, and I was so relieved when she was open to listen.

I was talking to her recently about some struggles I have been having with jealousy and the ugly green monster, and she told me that out of all of her children she considers me the most compassionate, and she had always thought I would be a great parent.  This comment made me think a lot.  I think that a lot of my compassion in my adult life has been created out of my infertility.  It has made me stop and think about other people’s situations.  At the same time I don’t feel compassionate to certain people.  I can’t tolerate to listen to a friend or family member complain about how hard it is to be a parent.  I can’t listen to someone talk about how excited they are to be pregnant.  I absolutely can’t stand to hear someone say that they got their miracle, wish, or prayer answered when they got pregnant.  When I hear these things I don’t think about their feelings, I automatically think of myself and what is missing from my life.  I don’t agree with my mom.  I am not a truly compassionate person. 

Maybe someday this can be a goal for me.  I don’t want to become a bitter old hag and have a piece of me remain broken and be uncompassionate to other people.  But for now I’m going to have to leave that part broken while I work on healing my infertility wounds and becoming whole again.


  1. There will be more days later on when the wounds get dry and you no longer face a "mirror" when someone hears that they got their miracles/prayers/wish answered. That doesn't mean that you'll stop feeling any thuds every now and then, but it will get better. :-)))

    I find that when you're bleeding inside, it's hard to be compassionate to other people. That's only normal. I think most people in the same situation would be like that. So just be kind to yourself. (((HUGS))) Here's to the long healing journey with lots of bumps, but it's WORTH it! :-D

  2. yes, I agree with Amel.
    Just be kind to yourself.

    And I am happy that you could open to your Mum. I haven't. I love her. But can not really talk to her (at least not about personal feelings).


  3. I'm glad you have been able to talk to your mother. I didn't - when I was going through infertility and losses and IVF, my father was going through cancer operations and treatment. She had enough on her plate without worrying about me, and I'd been independent from her for so long I didn't feel the need for her support.

    I think working on your infertility wounds and healing is your first priority. You'll find that does wonders for your compassion. But for the record, it's okay to have the occasional intolerant, angry or jealous thought. I mean, you're only human. Have some compassion for yourself too.

  4. Agrees with Mali, Klara and Amel- You come first when you're hurting. You might consider this odd, but I have this belief, as long as you're able to feel hurt, you're able to understand that others can get hurt too. The challenge here is that one needs to look beyond her hurt, to give compassion, even when one doesn't think compassion is deserved.

    It's NOT easy...I'm speaking from experience- one day I'd feel sorry about myself snarling at everyone, with their 'woe is me' stories. The next day I'd still feel sorry, and realize in their own perceptive, they are hurting- at least they needed someone to acknowledge their hurt. It doesn't mean you have to put a band-aid on them, just a hug.

    As Mali said, keep much of your compassion for yourself, and trust that you will feel ready to share compassion when you're well and good to do so. Not any sooner.. (and I need to remind that myself, too.)