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(peering around the closet door, checking to be sure no one is nearby, scurrying quietly to the computer, looking back over shoulder)

We have unexplained infertility (going on 6 years now) and decided not to talk about it because we didn't want the added pressure that comes with the support of our loved ones. Ok, I know that sounds bad, but I just didn't want to have to deal with people eagerly watching my belly and asking if we "had any news yet". I didn't want to have to relive each negative telling friends and family. Neither of us wanted pity. My mother is a huge worrier and an even bigger thought-broadcaster. I didn't want the unsolicited advice or the joking "take my kid" offers. We live in a very small town and, as with any small town, gossip is everyone's favorite pastime.

Of course, the price for this privacy is having to endure lectures about being selfish for not having children. And questions about why we don't have children. And friends with families telling us we are so lucky we have time and money to go on holidays, then warning us that no one will take care of us when we get old. There were also so many stupid-funny things that happened at the RE office that I would have loved to have a giggle with friends about, but couldn't.

After all this time, the secret is starting to slip out. I told a friend who was about to start a clomid cycle without being warned of the side-effects. You can't just stand by and let someone walk blindly into a clomid hot-flash, can you? My husband told his family a few months ago. I asked him to because I thought they were under the impression that we didn't have kids because I didn't want them.

Oh, I have rambled on far too long, sorry about that. Thats another side effect - when I do get the chance to tell, I go on and on and on....

I'm pretty open, too. Although I work as a teacher, so I don't post a lot of details about my "other" life because they like to google my name. I've already been "caught" on the Internet with a poem I had written that was published and nominated for a prize and put on the Internet without my consent. I don't want my students to know I'm infertile.

But you're so right about the male factor thing. We have both factors, and usually I just say "it's me" if they ask what's wrong. So then they'll launch into their lectures on what I should be doing, and I tune them out. I don't like broadcasting that we also have MFI; it's easier for me to say I'm infertile than to say "we're both infertile." I think in a sick way I am used to taking the "blame." And would rather take it.

But I do feel much less of a woman because I'm infertile, and it sucks. Sometimes I wish I didn't tell anyone what I'm going through, but then I don't think I'd be able to get through it. People at work are generally amazing and very supportive.

Great post, Tertia, really made me think.

Just re-read my post and realized I have about seven different "they's" in it. Sorry for the pronoun confusion! *Smacks self Homer Style* Doh!

I'm essentially a closeted infertile. I've confided in some close friends, but the only family members that know what's going down with us are my brother and his wife, and even then they only know the broad brush strokes.

As JC said, part of it is not wanting the pressure that comes with the support. My parents mean well, God knows, but they haven't always demonstrated an ability to put the interests of their adult children--which is probably an unfair thing to say since I'm not giving them a real chance.

But I've felt too vulnerable to give my parents a shot at handling my infertility in a way that would feel okay to me. As Karen said, I feel not only much less of a woman because I'm infertile, but also much less of a human being, and while it's one thing to feel that way myself, it's another thing altogether to worry that others are thinking that of me--even if in a supportive way.

Still, we've been no shows at so many events that most peoples' patience has worn thin with us and we're going to have to come out of the closet soon if only to ensure that friends and family still speak to us.

Okay--I'll shut up and stop hogging your blog now. Great post though.

For me, the intense privacy and isolation came from was pain and shame. I was so raw, like I had a full-body 3rd-degree sunburn. Any contact, intimacy, from almost anyone was way too painful. And I had no reserves to cope. It was all I could do to get out of bed, do some form of my job, interact in some semi-human way with my kind husband, and put up some kind of false self to everyone else. I tried a few times to get comfort, to reach out, be honest, but, alas, I chose badly and it was all so stupid and sad and I just ran back so deep into myself.
All of that is to say that what you all are doing here, now, talking with each other, closeted or not, is essential. Eventually, I won the lottery. I have the baby of my dreams. And because of that I feel sad and weird and self-conscious even speaking here. But in some ways, hard ways, I'm STILL HERE. I didn't work my shit out when I should have, and I'm way more anxious and freak-outy a mother because of it. It's funny that you made reference to getupgrrl's privacy. It was an e-mail exchange with her that gave me the courage not just to send this, but to think hard about the cost of my isolation. I just discovered you wickedly sharp and beautiful women a few weeks ago, and I have sat for hours, weeping and reading. If you don't keep moving, it sticks to you, I guess.
I said it to grrl, and I will say it to all of you: You have already become wonderful mothers. This community is the gift you bring to the children I KNOW you will all have.

Hi Tertia,

Interesting question about privacy & infertility. I'm one of the closeted ones, except for my mom, my DH's mom (though I was not the one who told her) and maybe 4 friends. I'm not working now, but when I was, I told only my boss (an uptight English bloke) because I felt I had to. Big mistake. He blushed terribly and I am sure would have preferred to have heard me tell him that I'd be out of the office frequently due to certain medical procedures, rather than due to IVF. I ended up getting my ass canned a year ago, most likely because IVF fucked w/ my ability to give a shit about my job.

But I digress... Although I am now more than 8 mos. pregnant from my 4th IVF, before getting lucky I was heavily closeted. I never asked my self why, but the following reasons, in retrospect, would seem to explain my reticence:
1) My DH is an extremely private person. His motto is "Reveal information only on a need-to-know basis." I have become more like him since we've been together, and do find that not blabbing about myself prevents much awkwardness and annoyance w/ people for asking probing questions.
2) My mom was ashamed of my infertility. Without revealing too much about myself, my mom is from an Asian culture that considers barren women to be "less than women," pitiable, and worthless. Further, this culture views adopted children as less than human. Unfortunately,I grew up indoctrinated by this attitude and it sort of stuck.
3) I, unfortunately, have always linked my IF to my earlier sexual indiscretions, therefore have felt that my inability to conceive had to do with my earlier bout w/ chlamydia, which was a result of being a promiscuous slut back in the eighties.
4) Last, I hated getting asked "So, are you pregnant yet?" by stupid fucking "friends" whom I mistakenly told that DH & I were trying to get pregnant. It gets old after 4 yrs. I used to reply, "We're working on it" when asked by acquaintances whether or not we had children, but soon realized that that answer only provokes more probing. Eventually, I figured out that a flat, "No." was an answer that would shut these people the fuck up.

These are a few of the reasons that I kept private about my struggle to conceive, and my IVF travails. Since I have become pregnant, I have only been asked by a couple of boorish people, "So, did you use medical assistance to get pregnant or did it happen naturally?" If this question is asked in an email, I don't address it. I have yet to be asked in person, but if I did, I'd just say, "Why do you want to know?" Or, if I were feeling a bit more surely, I'd say, "None of your fucking business."

Thank you for your blog, Tertia. I love it.


I am also "out" of the closet when it comes to my infertility treatments. For the most part, I have found a lot of support from others. However, I subject myself to judgements and comments by being so open. I also got a response from a male co-worker that they could easily knock me up. Also, I had some relatives who told me I should just adopt, after a failed IVF, as though that would soften the blow. Thanks for the great post.

I tell everyone, if we get to that part in the conversation. I don't tell them they hows (also because of male factor), but my children are 5 years apart in age and folks ask why. I had secondary infertility, with three+ years of miscarriages, tests, medical intervention, surgeries, etc, and I say, "Oh, we didn't plan the 5 years difference, but I had infertility issues and a number of losses in between." I do it because when it was happening to ME, I was so alone, and I cannot believe the number of women who spill it when I open the topic -total strangers who want to talk IUIs and laparoscopies. It's a way to connect and let them know it can be private but it needn't be secret.

Such thoughtful and insightful comments - thank you! In a way I envy those of you who have chosen to keep it quiet. The combined weight of every one's concern, sympathy, interest, opinion etc is sometimes overwhelming. But I suppose you can't have it both ways.

I actually have to correct myself and say that for a while I also questioned my worth as a woman because of my infertility, I do that less now.

I think the distinction for me is that infertility does not make me less attractive/sexy, but not being a mother, being unable to become a mother, that makes me feel much less of a woman. And of course it doesn't help that the insiders - the mommies - reinforce that perception all the time. "you'll understand one day" etc etc. Its the mommy club and only once you are granted membership do you attain the pinnacle of womanhood.

Lucy, what a beautiful post. I am so very happy you won that lottery. You deserve it 100 times over. What you say makes me scared though. Do the scars run that deep that we never totally heal? I think about this a lot. I am afraid that this might be the case.


I could go on for days about all of this, but I won't monopolize your blog. Suffice it to say, I'm pretty out there about our problems. Since we're not technically "infertile", this question comes up most when we get pregnant and have to decide whether we should even risk telling family.

But I also agree that there's a bit of responsiblity that comes into play for me. I know so many women who are suffering through various problems that I feel I can't leave them hanging out there thinking they're alone.

Okay, I'm fringing on monopolizing.

Great post, Tertia.

Like Julia I could go on and on, but I'll just say that I am completely open to the point of being blunt about it, which is a switch from how I started out. I don't go into physical details, but everything else is fair game. At first I told no one, but now I talk about it to whomever asks, and sometimes when they don't ask. It started when my sister (who also has infertility issues) and I were at a family wedding and were being pestered by various well-meaning family members; my sister, in response to "when are you guys going to pop out some grandkids for your parents already?" said "Well, I'm barren, but thanks for asking." We talked about it afterwards and decided maybe if we could be up-front, we might cause others some embarassment but could potentially avert a lot of hurt feelings and maybe educate some people.

I wasn't able to be open about my infertility until I began looking upon the whole journey with a sense of humor.

Now, I respond to anyone who asks. I will bluntly, yet humorously, describe my treatments, my diagnosis, my losses and the way that my inability to reproduce has changed my entire being.

My bluntness tends to make some people very uncomfortable, and that makes me happy. I figure that if they're nosey enough to ask and they really want to know what's going on with my reproductive organs, then I'm not going to spit-shine my response.

Let's face it, the reason most people want to know my personal business, is so that they can gossip about it. Right now the gossip is: Oh, look at her! She's smoking a cigarette and drinking wine. No wonder she can't get pregnant!

Ah, screw 'em. You can't win either way.

You asked:
"Do the scars run that deep that we never totally heal? I think about this a lot. I am afraid that this might be the case."

I believe in the magic of transformation through human connection and compassion. And in healing. I have to. But I also believe in ghosts, and in aches in our hearts like phantom limbs.

And yet, what a hard, good question. I think it's like all the hard stuff we get through--miraculously, most often. It's part of our psychic terrain, part of what gets triggered. You can't erase it or deny it. Believe me, pretending it's not happening doesn't make it not happen. Just makes you not a mom yet and lonely. But here's the thing. I'm sobbing as I write this. It's time for me to let it go, for my sake and my daughter's. I should have mourned this long ago, years ago. But I was too deep in grief to grieve....can that be possible? I feel so greedy asking for your help now, like I lost my chance when it was happening. But I weep here before you for us all, I think. I do not believe this raw grief will ruin my mothering. But it could if I let it. If I stayed alone and armored, it could run so deep that it never healed. There are books about parenting after infertility. I always felt it was hubris to read them before the baby (lest I challenge the gods, oh yeah? think you're gonna have the luxury of a baby and the luxury to parent after infertility? This 'll teach you!) And then once I had her, I was so frightened by past losses (the legacy) of losing her that all I wanted to read were medical books and child development books to make sure I was armed for any possible scary thing (that's the cost of not moving on, I fear; it's like still waiting to have a baby while you have her...I worried so much about losing her, I lost moments with her...Oh God, am I letting IF rob me of the mothering I so desperately wanted? How psycho is that?)
But I'm a gold medal winner in every Anxiety Olympics ever held. And infertility simply offered me a HUGE steak to sink my anxious teeth into. I'm not answering your question. I'm sorry. I guess you just have to keep putting your decision on the scales every day...what weighs more, need for biology/costs (emotional/financial). You fill in your own scales. It's so delicate and personal and COMPLICATED.
Those of you who are open (to whatever degree), talking about it, letting it out, you are my heroes. Those of you suffering in bloated isolation (like I did) you have my heart.

Great post, Tertia.

I am actually more "open" in my real life than I am online. My friends know, and a few work colleagues whom I trust, and my family (and my husband's family).

I believe in openness, and temperamentally, I tend to be a disclosing person. I also think that openess is critical in reducing the isolation of women struggling with infertility, as well as their sense of shame. That's why I try to link to every infertility blog I can find - as a way of saying, "Look at how many of us there are - we are not alone."

But I do sometimes regret having told a certain person or two, particularly when a stupid or thoughtless comment comes my way. I think this is a balance with which I'll continue to struggle, for the rest of my life. I'm not sure I'll ever feel as though I've gotten it just right - except when I'm in the company of other women who have gone through it.

I prefer being the anonymous infertile to the pain of having to deal with and talk about all this all the time to everyone. I have a small circle of friends that know what I'm doing - this used to be larger, but people suck and are selfish and unsupportive so the circle closed a little tighter. Don't get me wrong - I do like talking about this stuff when I'm cycling but typically with others going through the same thing. A lot of times I have to talk about it in some form or another, but I can't stand (and will not repeat) the recap with potential infertiles "oh, so how many follicles did you get" - who cares - it wasn't enough. When you're going through it, I will be right by your side, I just don't want to relive my negatives for your future research.

I know that I shouldn't, but I do see it as my failure as a woman (which I don't equate to attractive, although the extra 20 IVF pounds doesn't help there) - I can't conceive. I don't like that. I actually just got the call that I have a chemical. So apparently I can conceive - but just a little.

A close family friend once said: "you guys should really have kids" - I just said "what makes you think we haven't tried?" - that shut her up pretty quickly. I didn't want to be rude or hurtful, but people have to learn to think about what they're saying. Just a little tangent - sorry! Basically - I prefer to keep my cards close to my chest in a lot of circumstances (just do NOT ask me about politics or religion, unless you really feel like getting into it - these topics apparently get my mouth motoring), and IVF is currently one of those circumstances.

Thanks - that felt good. Nice blog.


Thank you posing such an important question to all of us. I am one of those who tells family and close friends. And some co-workers. And the mail carrier... I, like getupgrrl, have had mixed reactions from those I've told. My own father-in-law, asked me my opinion on miscarriage as we told him about our first pregnancy (which ended in a miscarriage) after two years of infertility. So we don't share with him anymore.
Note to Lucy -- I think you're right that you need to grieve for your infertility. I think it's like women who have lost a child (like Tertia.) You would NEVER NEVER tell a parent who lost a child to "get over it", and I think it's the same with our infertility. I know I'll be thrilled when we have a child one day, but that doesn't cancel out all the grief from the past couple years. I think it will always be there. But I guess that's another subject altogether.

Hi, I just found your blog through Julie's and this is a subject I can't keep quiet about.

Openness about infertility is a complicated for us. At first no one even knew we were trying. Then my husband spilled the beans to his mother and I felt that I had to tell my mom, too. This past Christmas I was having a really hard time, so I asked my parents and his to tell close family and friends not to ask about our lack of children. I was in such a fragile state emotionally, that I really needed protection from thoughtless comments more than I needed my privacy.

Now almost all of our extended family knows along with several of my closest friends and it's both good and bad news. Now that we know our infertility is male and female factor, I wish we hadn't told as many people. I really don't mind if people look down on me for being infertile, but I'd do anything to protect my husband from insensetive comments regarding his fertility. (Not that we've come across any of that yet, but it is really weird to be discussing my husband's sperm count with my 75 year old grandfather!)

I welcome the opportunity to share our struggles with people who don't understand infertility, but sometimes I regret opening my mouth about it in the first place. For now, I think we've found a pretty good balance. The people I know will be most supportive know and those I'm not so sure about don't.


Just ran across your blog for the first time- so glad I did. I have read your story on IVFC and admire the work you are doing here. Your blog is what I imagine mine would be like- lots of emotional vomit.

As for being in or out- I am out, way out. Like some of the women that replied- I was not out at first, but like you, I am a heart on my sleeve type of gal. I have come to a place (or trying to get there- but am close) where I feel like this is random bad luck and I have nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone I know- knows...work, etc. Hell- even the CEO of my company knows (my boss told him) and he called me and told me about his own adoption story. I just think that people cut you more slack for the most part and this makes it a tad easier to deal with. Love your blog-

You are all amazing women.

Lucy, you write beautifully, I recognize so much of myself in you (not sure that's a good thing ;-) )

Infertility robs you of so much. It robs you of your emotional, mental, physical and financial health while you are going through it (and so much more), then it robs you of the joy of pregnancy (I was petrified through out my pregnancies), and now it has the potential to rob you of the ultimate prize, the goal to which we strive, motherhood. And that pisses me off.

And another thing. I had to face the consequences of my 'outness' yesterday. I had to relive the fucked up scan about 10 times as I had the whole world and his dog wanting to know how the scan went. The price you pay for sharing.

"So, how did it go? Oh no, I am so sorry. So what does that mean?"


Its all very sweet and kind of people, and I know they really do care. But when I get bad news I just want to go into my cave and not talk about it. When everyone is involved, you have to talk about it again and again.

My husband and I have not told many people about our infertillty. I have told my parents and my two dearest friends, but keep them in the dark about the vagueries of cycling. They have been supportive when I need them and distracting when I need them. I come from a culture of shame around medical conditions. It is hard to break out of this conditioning, even though on many issues I have. But many people believe that illness makes you weak and they make you--or your body--a failure. I am sure that my parents have not told anyone because of this reason. It is hard for my mom when I discuss "infertility." She always corrects me as if the word is distasteful. This is complecated by the fact that the roots of my current infertility issues are fibroids, which run in families and I know she feels she "passed" them on to me. (She had a hysterectomy to remove her fibroids after having 2 kids.)My dad is more understanding ironically, because he has Parkinsons disease and he understands some of what I feel. My hubby comes from an international culture where marriage = children. All of his siblings have married and produced kids one or at most 2 years after the wedding. Infertility = barren = shame. Marrying outside his culture was a humungous deal and after 6 years and no kids to show, I know tongues are wagging. Luckily, they're wagging in a language I don't speak.

I struggle with the issue of openness. I am very open about fibroids and adhesions. I speak about them all the time, everyone knows I had/have them and am dealing with their consequences. Somehow it is hard to make that leap to discussing infertility. I feel sometimes that I am not doing "my part" to educate people, to provide knowledge. On the other hand, I feel even more strongly that after going through this invasive, privacy destroying procedure called IVF, the very least I deserve is my ability to be silent. For my sanity.

Great blog Tertia.

Hi Tertia. I am relatively new to the blogging world and have been reading your blog for only a few weeks now. I wanted to respond to this post because it hit so close to home for me.

Very few people in my life know about my struggles to conceive. Only my family and in-laws even know that we have been trying. The rest of the world around me either thinks we don't want children or that we just don't want any right now (I'm not sure which in most cases). For some reason I just feel like it's something I can only share with those very close to me or those on the internet who understand what I'm going through. I really couldn't pin down much more of a reason than that but I thought I would chime in anyway.

Thank you for letting me share this with you and for your beautiful blog.

I'm a single woman struggling with infertility and that raises it's own set of questions about in vs. out of the closet. On the one hand, I feel more in need of the support of a large group of friends, on the other hand, I get plenty of insensitive comments, like "Oh I want to have children too but I want to fall in love first." As if I wouldn't have preferred for it to work out that way.
Some people have told me that infertility is probably just as lonely and isolating for a married person. I am not sure about it being just as lonely, but I do think it is ultimately something we handle, and mourn, at least to a degree on our own.
Surprisingly, another problem I have found with being out of the closet is that many people do not show the degree of empathy or understanding of the process that I really need. "Just adopt," "Just go out and sleep with someone," are comments that area not helpful, but which I hear all too often.
I realize it is probably unrealistic to expect a deep level support and I'm sure I've been equally insensitive about other people's medical problems. But there is this sense of, "I've shared this with you, now you better be there for me," or "No I can not talk about your dating or job drama today. My problems are bigger. Not saying I'm right about that, but it's a tension I've experienced.

That was really honest... i am a mother of an 18 month old and have a sister in law who went in for IVF without telling anyone in the family... your story makes it so much easier to understand what must have run through her midn while making her decision... and heck.. i cant understand why people must be invasive and personal.. life is hard enough without hurting another's feelings... glad it all worked out and you have beautiful babies now...

it's a funny thing ivf we are very open about it. all our family and friends know we do it. but when we do a cycle we never tell anyone it's not that we don't want to it's just that i can't handle saying no it didn't work i would rather hop under the sheets be angry, hate the world and cry my heart out then take it out on family. i have probably taken the lonely way of doing things but in some strange way it seems to work for me. who knows i will probably end up in a mentle house one day keeping all this shit to myself!!!!!!!

damien and i went to church every sunday till he was about four (i had been a regular all my life and loved it)... and then i fell off the wagon.
i made a half-arsed attempt to get him to sunday school (even if i didn't stay) when he was about 7, but that fizzled out too.
then when he was 13 i started going to church again and rediscovered everything i'd missed for so long- but my darling boy was very behind in his biblical education and felt like the veritable sore thumb. now, at 16, he won't go... i ask often, but i'm going to have to work hard at trying to fix what my laziness broke!
hind-sight is always 20/20 innit?

Hi Tertia

Thanks for a great website, some of your postings were spot on, exactly the emotions i've been going through!
My husband & I have been trying for the last year, and all our friends are more fertile than the Nile. Its very upsetting.
I have only told my mom & sister & one of our closest friends about my infertility.
People keep nagging as to when we are going to have kids, and its so difficult, I want to eventually scream that I can't! I don't ovulate, and after a battery of tests still arent sure why!
I decided not to tell people because I do not want to hear about all the old remedies, and the lying with your feet up in the air! All the help from caring friends & family might just push me over the edge!!
I've been trying for nearly a year, and have experienced every emotion under the sun from the highest highs, to the absolutely devestating slit-your-wrist lows! My heart goes out to everyone experiencing fertility problems & I hope that your hopes & dreams will be fulfilled!
Now its off to the gynae for my latest course of clomid, and to inspect the cysts that the clomid has now caused!
All of the best to everyone!

I know this post is several years old, but I just recently discovered your blog and I love it, even thought we are on the other side of our infertility journey.

I actually went from "out" to "closet" -- and odd choice, but it was right for us.

At first I was out because I saw infertility as a medical problem. I didn't think it was anything to be embarrassed about. However, I learned the hard way that people think otherwise. First, our infertility was MF, as a result of my husband's cancer treatment. I was so proud of him for beating cancer, I saw infertility as a small price to pay. His sexauality was not even a consideration for me, and I was surprised that it was for other people (you'd be shocked at the things people will say about your husband!).

But the final straw for me was when we did our first treatment. I told my family, and my step mom said to me, "EWWWWWW.... You're going to have a test tube baby?"

Being judged as a couple was hard, especially when we were so vulnerable after years of trying. But having our future children judged for a decision they had no part in... Well, I just couldn't take that. And there's nothing like "EWWWWW" to make you feel like crap.

We had a natural transition to become closeted. Our first treatment worked, but I later lost the baby. After that, I told people that we weren't ready to start trying again for a while.

When I finally got pregnant, a few people asked how the baby was conceived. I told them, "It was a surprise." Now... this is true. We were genuinely surprised that the fertility treatments worked, since we were just about to give up and pursue adoption. But, I know they took it to mean that we got pregnant without any medical intervention.

I feel really guilty about that. Because I know my step mom tells infertile couples about our miracle baby. And I know from experience how painful it is to hear someone say something stupid like, "I know someone who couldn't get pregnant, and then as soon as they relaxed it happened! You don't need doctors!"

But my son's privacy is much more important to me, so I keep quiet and let her think we had a "surprise" baby. Maybe someday I'll get the courage to tell her. Maybe someday she'll love him enough to think of him as a person, and not a "test tube baby."

I'm not there yet -- and neither is she -- so for now I protect my son.

Hi Tertia,

Wow, what a wonderful page!!

We have slowly moved from being "out" to going back in... We live in a very small community and found it incredibly difficult to continuously fend off silly comments and strange questions! In the beginning, although it was a huge step to get over (going to an Infertility clinic), it actually became exciting to know that FINALLY we would fall pregnant, even if it was through the non-conventional method! But unfortunately after 8 years and 12+ IVF's it becomes harder and harder to maintain your patience with insensitive people.... I think my turning point was reading somewhere that you should be honest with your friends about why you don't want to attend certain functions... After trying this by letting a friend down gently that i wouldn't attend her son's birthday because I honestly didn't think i would cope (i had just had a failed attempt), she took it personally and intimated that maybe I didn't have a good interaction with children anyway!

I think what it boils down to is that every situation is unique and many people don't appreciate what someone goes through with infertility. I would have definately gone "balls to the wall" with being "out", but have become a bit "gun-shy" about sharing lately!

On the other hand.. I have also realised what special friends I have found in some of the people I have chosen to share with... Although you do lose a few along the way, there are those that are so incredibly supportive and I treasure those every day!

I am one of the people in the closet...lol
i guess I just wanted to be normal and fit in although I used to be like you and did not give a shit what people think of me...not sure why I do in this case.
anyways I ran accross you blog in search of help out there on the net and i love it and it definetly gives me hope.

You are definitely and ispiration, thanks for writing!

Some people have told me that infertility is probably just as lonely and isolating for a married person. I am not sure about it being just as lonely, but I do think it is ultimately something we handle, and mourn, at least to a degree on our own.
Surprisingly, another problem I have found with being out of the closet is that many people do not show the degree of empathy or understanding of the process that I really need. "Just adopt," "Just go out and sleep with someone," are comments that area not helpful, but which I hear all too often.

Some people have told me that infertility is probably just as lonely and isolating for a married person. I am not sure about it being just as lonely, but I do think it is ultimately something we handle, and mourn, at least to a degree on our own.
Surprisingly, another problem I have found with being out of the closet is that many people do not show the degree of empathy or understanding of the process that I really need. "Just adopt," "Just go out and sleep with someone," are comments that area not helpful, but which I hear all too often.

i don't want to tell any one. i tried before and its the most hardest thing for me to do (explain)i feel really different and i don't have any one to talk to (friends or family) that can relate. (not even my mom) Ive told her but she doesn't know what i feel, she had children. i am the oldest of three and on mothers day i found out my younger sister is pregnant. That was a really tough day for me. even though ive told my mom (my sister didn't know at the time) they had a conversation about how neat it would be if both me and my sister were pregnant. i spent that day in the restroom crying.(very emotional) but a couple months ago i text my sister and told her. (its something i can never say out loud. i don't want to, if i explained to my mom or sister in person id cry and i don't think id stop. EVER.)its hard to tell family members and friends. (we all grew up together and talked about how many kids we wanted, how our kids would grew up together and now they have 2 or 3. and they ask at family reunions birthday celebrations baby showers or even over lunch "when are you going to have a baby" its very irritating because i may tell someone and they forget or they just don't know what to say.(cant relate) when i listen to my friend talk about how their baby grew his or her 1st tooth, or started to walk or they had a birthday party and everyone bring they baby i really don't know what to feel any more. (just alone) i work at a place where i see pregnant woman and children come and go. and today i just got really depressed. i really would like to know what that feels like. i am very frustrated. most of the time people just figure i don't want kids so i started saying that instead of explaining and getting emotional.i think by telling everyone that wants to know why i don't have children the truth is weird and very occurred and it gets me way to emotional. so i keep it to myself.

its not so bad right now because i am still very young. just know not to expect children down the line real real hurts. and Ive heard..."you can have mines...she bad"...or " its a good thing..." HOW??? :(

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