Awkward Moments Strike Again

It's times like these that I feel compelled to wear a sign that says,

"No, I don't have kids. Yes, I want them, but after 9 years of trying, I haven't been able to have them, so I got cats instead."

I actually said this to someone upon being asked, "So when are you going to have babies?"

It was only my third day back at my old job (yes, you read that right. I'm filling in for my old boss while she is on vacation.), and I already had the Dreaded Question directed at me twice in one shift.

*sigh* WTFrick?

I sometimes wish I was quick enough to say, "beep! I'm sorry the quota of personal questions has been filled. To proceed further, either find a new topic of conversation, or pay a personal question fee of $50 dollars. Starbucks cards are also accepted."

Or I can skip the warning altogether and go directly to the personal question fee. I should charge a personal question fee.

After I said that to her, she didn't look me in the face. I guess I was too honest for her liking, but really, she had it coming. She only had herself to blame. If you'd have been there, if you'd have heard her, I bet you would have done the same.

I work again tonight. I'm hoping my Sheild of Sarcasm and wrist cuffs of Snark will repell any incoming jabs at me.

Those Awkward Moments

As some of you know, I was laid off from my job at a womens only gym last year in May. Since then, my former boss encouraged me to still come and work out, so basically I have a free membership.

There are some ladies at this gym that still don't know I am no longer an employee. It makes for an interesting, yet short, conversation that usually ends with me concluding said convo with, "it was a mutual parting."

This past week I had one of the most laughable, yet awkward conversations with a woman who either doesn't listen, or just doesn't process new information. To make things worse, she comes up with these bizarre assumptions about whomever she is conversing with, that it makes her look like...well...an idiot.

Below is an example of a recent conversation with her:

DB*: I've never seen your hair straight before.

Me: *incredulous look on face* My hair isn't straight today. It's curly. (I realize I could have been a little nicer in my response, but really, I don't work there anymore and I had no caffeine in my system to soften my reply.)

DB: Well it's not as curly as I've seen it before. So are you here working, or just working out?

Me: Just working out.

DB: Are you done with school? I thought that was why you left.

Me: What? Yes, I graduated from University 10 years ago.

DB: Have any of your children graduated?

Me: *o_O* Do I look old enough to have childen who are graduating? I don't have any children.

CB*: Oh. Well that's okay too.

Me: *flatly* Thanks.

She is lucky she got me on a good day, even if I didn't have caffeine in me. The encounter was just too laughable to get me mad. She tried so hard to make conversation with me and each question was a total bust. By the time she got to the children topic, I could see she was visibly uncomfortable. It was awesome!

It is a rarity for me to feel this much enjoyment from making someone so uncomfortable. Seriously, I'm not that cruel. But honestly, she was the one asking the questions with reckless abandon. Once she brought up the "kids" question, she had already crossed into "The Danger Zone" (cue Kenny Loggins).

Again, I don't work there anymore, so I didn't feel the urge or see the need to sugar-coat my answers. I had been doing that for the last 5 years when I had been working there. I just find it so rich that some of the women at this gym still feel the constant need to ask such personal questions and that they feel it is my obligation to be completely honest with them. Um, no.

I know on some level I should be ashamed of myself for my actions. Maybe, the things that she said and the questions that she asked weren't so bad. But I'm tired of being the one left uncomfortable after an awkward conversation.


*DB = Dumb Bunny
*CB = Condescending Bunny

Hubby and I vs. The World

Things Not to Say to an Infertile Couple...especially around Christmas:

"Isn't Christmas so much better with kids?"

This quote wasn't so much directed at us, as it was a large group of people with us in it...at a church function, and said by someone who knows our story.

I know the person who said this didn't really mean to hurt my feelings, but they did.

I know I'm probably being overly sensitive, but honestly, it stung to hear these words. I had to ask Michael if I had heard the statement correctly and he confirmed that what I had heard was in fact correct.

I'm finding that in times like these, where certain holidays revolve around children or having children - I cling to Michael more. I crave his company and attention because its incidences like this that it feels like its us vs. The World.

Its incidences like this where I'm reminded how safe I am with him and only him, which explains why I get apprehensive when it comes to family get-togethers and church functions. Its also at these events where my introverted nature gets increasingly magnified, and I'm mistaken for being rude and standoffish.


Luckily I'm married to a fellow introvert who will sit in the corner with me, people watching and making me laugh. We have silly conversations about stupid things like "What is mistletoeing?" and "Why scary ghost stories during Christmas, wouldn't that be during Halloween?" Because no one else would appreciate the banter going back and forth about defining "mistletoeing (It's either going after someone with mistletoe, being pursued by someone with mistletoe or dragging someone while holding mistletoe [I really can't remember which definition we decided on as I was laughing so hard I was crying].

Its these stupid silly moments together that make me love him even more. Because I know he does this on purpose to cheer me up, and I like to think I cheer him up in return by indulging the conversation.

Last night as we were lying in bed, Michael told me something that was said at a meeting he attended that evening. Someone had insinuated that to be a Pastor, they had to have kids, because kids are good and attractive to other young couple with kids. WHAT? Later that night at the same meeting, Michael was asked in passing (from someone else) if he would ever consider Pastoring a church (once a year Michael will guest speak at our church). Michael said, "No, we don't have kids", no one really heard him except one person.

I hugged Michael, and told him I was sorry he had to hear that. "Its you and me vs. the world," I said. "Its times like these I wish we had our own island."
.
He took me in his arms and said, "We have own own island, right here."

I know I can't expect everyone to be that sensitive around us, but I would appreciate it if they would just think before they speak. Is that asking too much? It hurts even more when these words are said by people who know are struggle. I know this won't be the last time something insensitive is said in front of us, or inadvertently directed toward us. It just solidifies my thought process - Us vs. The World, Us vs. A Fertile World.

ETA: Final definition of mistletoeing - Michael: Dragging someone with mistletoe using a rocket powered engine (missile towing).

Shame On You, PETA

PETA decided to honor National Infertility Awareness Week by openly mocking those who suffer from Infertility by way of their latest campaign, "Win a Vasectomy". This was first brought to my attention by this post from Keiko at Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed.

I stewed in this for a while. I was too angry to form a coherent sentence much less form my outrage in a letter or email to the PETA president Ms Ingrid Newkirk. I finally wrote one. And while it isn't as eloquent as Keiko and a few others letters that I have read, I'm just proud that I actually wrote something. Below is my letter:

Dear Ms Newkirk,

I'm sure by now you have received numerous emails from offended individuals like myself regarding PETA's latest "Win a Vasetomy" campaign. I'll be quick. I don't find that this campaign honors National Infertility Awareness Week at all. I find it offensive, insensitive and downright hurtful. Offering sterilization to honor an association like Resolve.org, who has set aside NIAW to educate the public about infertility, while simultaniously building up the confidence of the infertility community, is tactless and disgusting. It doesn't honor NIAW in any way, instead it mocks a community of people that struggle with a disease they didn't ask for. Yes, infertility is a disease, not just a "difficult issue".

And comparing the overpopulation of animals and humans is just absurd. There are certain parts of the world, like the Western world that does not suffer from human overpopulation, so your campaign is again absurd.

Did you know that 1 in 8 couples struggle with infertility? Chances are, there are most likely more than a few of your employees that are currently struggling with infertility, and it is campaigns like this one that just perpetuates the ignorance, instead of educating.

By not being able to have children, I'm not doing the world a favor. However, this campaign seems suggests otherwise.

Please do the honorable thing and disassociate Resolve.org and NIAW from this campaign.

Sincerely,

Jonelle

Whew, all done. Time for bed.

Lying is wrong...

...but when used sparingly it can become an effective defensive tool against nosy intrusive stupid questions and assumptions.

Part of my job as a circuit coach is to stand in the circuit and make sure the members are using the machines correctly so they don't hurt themselves. The other part of that job is talking to them. I stick to safe subjects like tv shows, movies, pets and some times nutrition although this last one usually escalates into which resturants in the neighborhood have the best desserts.

I try my hardest to steer the conversations away from me. I don't like talking about me, unless they ask me about Jack. I love talking about my kitty. He is after all my most precious furbaby. He does a lot of funny things, so I have lots of stories. But I digress.

I was talking to a member the other day and the conversation was going pretty good. Then she says to me in an afterthought fashion, "Oh, I never asked you if you had kids..."[me: blank stare, wide eyes, speechless]..."Do you have kids?...Do you not want kids?"  [me: found voice "I have a cat..."]

And just like that in a matter of seconds I made the decision to lie, to not divulge any further information, and not clarify to her that her assumption was incorrect.

Why? Because I just didn't have the energy to go into my story with her. I didn't have it in me to pour my heart out to this random person about how much I want to be a mother. Lying was the safest option at my disposal.

What saved me from dissolving into a puddle of guilt? Knowing that ultimately I can choose who I tell my story to and this person wasn't meant to hear it. So I lied about my desire to have children and I let her assume I didn't want kids.

Does that make me a bad person for lying to protect my self preservation? I don't think so. I don't make it a habit of lying, but I'll make an exception when my fertility becomes the topic in casual conversation with random strangers.

*facepalm* I hate the talking part of my job. I hate talking about me.

Infertility, thou art a heartless b*?&#!

Feeling Better

Thanks for all the encouraging comments on my last post. However, I'd be lying if I said that comments like this have stopped. Just the other day I got told "Look how cute you are. Looking young and not having a baby." WTFrick? Seriously? Seriously! (Yes, for those of you wondering the word not was emphasized.)

I think these comments just come in waves and this month is high tide. I just smiled and tuned her out while she kept talking.

Now that the Crimson Wave has come and gone I think I'm a little better at handling the icky comments I'm getting from people. I really would have liked to have said something back to her, but you know it just wasn't worth it. I could have said something snarky back to her, but usually that just opens a whole can of crap that ultimately ends up backfiring on me and I really didn't need to deal with that kind of stink.

I'm not sure why I'm baffled at the insensitivity some people have when it comes to not just IF, but other things as well.

Sometimes I really hate customer service. Because the customers/members feel that your life is fair game to judge and comment on. They feel like they can ask anything because its your job to be nice to them.

Did you know that they ask my boss about me and my family building options? On more than one occasion members have asked her if I want kids or when I'm going to have them. My boss is a great Mama Bear. She sticks up for me and tells them basically to mind their own business.

I think the sweetest thing I got told this week by a member was "You should be a mom. You'd be a great one." I had confided in her about my IF and our desire to adopt. It was nice to receive that affirmation even though there are some days that I doubt my maternal instincts, and whether or not they will show up when a baby comes.

We are still waiting to hear from the adoption agency. Things left to do: LiveScan, send copies of required documents to the our social worker, and reference letters to our adoption agency.

Infertility Rage Day

I don't have many of these days. I've learned over the years that most comments, questions, or observations directed at me in regards to my infertility shouldn't be taken to heart.

That is not to say that there aren't some days when its impossible not to feel the dagger of a non-chalaunt, inappropriate statement formed in the guise of a backwards complement.

I know we don't have children. I wake up every morning to that reality. Sometimes as I'm walking to work I'll remember that its been 7 years of wanting kids and not being able to have them. I'm reminded everyday of something I've wanted for so long. I don't need other people reminding me too.

I have found that there are two things I hate talking about: my age and how long I've been married. Know why? Because those are the two topics that lead right into the Dreaded Kids Question.

I've been told many times that I don't look my age. Its not really surprising to me since I've haven't looked my age since I was 18. I do find it hilarious that no one believes me when I say that I'm 33 years old. Some days its complementary, but lately on numerous occasions  I've been told the reason I don't look my age is because I don't have children. Thanks...I think.

The first time this was said to me I kind of brushed it off. But Wednesday, or as I dubbed it Infertility Rage Day, I just couldn't shake it off, because it was said by a member at work who I actually like talking to on a regular basis. I wasn't feeling good that day so I didn't have the energy to defend myself with a snarky response. And worse, it was said amongst other women I'm not really comfortable being that transparent to about my inability to have children.

I came home trying to figure out what 33 looks like. And I'm surprised I don't look my age considering the stress I've been under over the past 7 years trying to have a baby. I would think that would have aged me. Or the trauma of having to endure an ectopic pregnancy resulting in losing my tube and our first baby. Surely that would have aged me. Or having to mourn my dream children with the help of a counselor. I'm surprised that hasn't aged me.

And I did the only thing I knew to do when someone reminds me that I'm infertile. I cried and I cried hard. I yelled and raged at anyone who was listening (poor Jack). And it didn't help that it was the gloomiest day ever.

Sometimes I really hate being in the company of other women, and their ignorance to the realities of IF, especially when I'm on the receiving end of it.

Infertility Rage Day. I don't have those days a lot, but when they do come approach with caution and carbs.

Even Jesus was Sarcastic or Is Honesty Really the Best Policy

These past couple of weeks I've been doing something that I normally wouldn't dream of doing...

cue the music...

I've been honest with people about our infertility. Its something new I've been doing since outing myself in April and finally deciding on an adoption agency.

There have been ample opportunities to do this, preferably two Sundays ago when Michael and I went to my old church to hear my former pastor speak. It was a weird day. Almost everyone from my old youth group was there and it was nice to see everyone grown up, married and with kids.

Naturally we got the kids question, which we answered, "Not yet, but we are in the process of adopting and we are excited about where the process takes us."

I was surprised that I was genuinely excited when we told people about us adopting. Don't get me wrong, I am excited, but I'm also very guarded about it. There is still a possibility that this won't work out, so I'm guarding my heart, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited that we are adopting.

Of course with this entire honesty thing one is bound to receive some crap not so nice comments from people. One came before I was even able to answer a question. The "Any kids" question a.k.a "The Dreaded Question" came from someone that was in my youth group who was a few years older than me. Before I could even answer the question he stepped over the line when he added, "What, you don't want kids?"

All this while staring at my chest...in church...right in front of my husband.

So not only am I uncomfortable with the question, I’ve also been put on the spot by someone I haven’t seen in over 15 years. So I gathered my courage, and quickly scrambled through my catalogue of snarky comebacks because at this moment I've pretty much rationalized that Jesus was sarcastic too (read the Gospels), so it’s okay. Jesus understands and He loves me.

Here is what I would have liked to have said: "What about you? Are you married? What, you don't want to get married? Was that question inappropriate? Can you please direct your question a little higher?"

Instead I said this: No we don't have kids. (honesty) We want kids, we just haven't been able to have them. (more information than is actually necessary) Right now we are in the process of adoption and we are excited. (does that answer your question, jerk)

I probably said more than what was necessary, but really who goes from asking if you have kids to assuming that you don't want any? Obviously people I haven't seen in over 15 years. After that I left before he actually said anything else to me. I heard later on that morning he came up to my mom and commented on how different her hair looked.

G: Your hair looks thinner, and shorter. Was it always like that?

Mom: Well the texture of hair changes when you have cancer and have to go through chemo. Often times it grows back thinner. What's your excuse?

YES! Oh how I wish I was there to have heard that conversation.

Everyone else was really great about hearing our adoption news. They were encouraging and excited for us. We had many people tell us that they will keep us in their prayers.

I also had the opportunity to share with one of my other old friends about our struggles with infertility, our losses and deciding not to try anymore.

It was very refreshing to be honest with someone and not feel shameful about our IF struggles, but talk about it freely with her. I surprised myself that I was so open with her, because we all know that I'm a bit out of practice in the art of opening up. But I felt she was a safe person and it was only her, not 20 people at once.

I stepped back and realized that had this been two years ago, or even a year ago, I would have dreaded going to my old church and seeing people I hadn't seen in years. I would have anticipated the kids question to the point of being on the brink of a panic attack. I would have driven myself crazy figuring out how to respond to each question, and over analyzing every encounter with these people.

Two years ago around this time, Michael and I went to a wedding of one of my old friends and there were some people in attendance that I had grown up with but hadn't seen in years. We didn't get the kids question that day, but it had only been 4 months out since the ectopic, and the outing was enough to dissolve me into tears seeing all my old friends I had grown up with, with kids of their own. I distinctly remember struggling to breathe during the reception.

A year ago at this time Michael and I were awaiting the results of our 4th and final IUI. Had we received an invitation to go to my old church, I don't even think we would have gone. If we had gone and received the kids question I would have just said, "No" and maybe a "Not yet". We would not have been upfront with anyone of our attempts to have children, much less talk about our losses or our IF struggles. I most likely would not have engaged in any conversations with anyone besides the usual small talk, but nothing in-depth.

To sum it up, there would have been lots of awkward silences trying to talk to me and the conversation wouldn't have been at all enlightening.

I guess you could say we have grown in the last year. We are a lot more honest with people when the Dreaded Question comes up. We usually don't include the "haven't been able to have them" part unless it is implied that we don't want kids. We just jump right into the "but we are adopting" and we make sure to say it with the proper enthusiam it deserves.

So I guess honesty is the best policy, but just remember that if I get asked the wrong question I will exercise my right to give a sarcastic answer.