What do you think of Facebook pregnancy announcements … besides the fact that they suck?
Pregnancy is obviously an exciting time in a woman’s—or couple’s—life. I mean, obviously, or else we wouldn’t be paying thousands of dollars and shedding millions of tears to achieve it, right?
Given that it is a very exciting time—like a vacation, wedding, graduation, etc.—people want to share the news with their friends!
I don’t think the majority of the population thinks about infertility. I don’t think people realize how very prevalent it is. I don’t think that’s their fault. I honestly don’t expect the general population to understand or think twice before posting a pregnancy announcement on Facebook.
Sure, it hurts to find out ANOTHER WOMAN IS PREGNANT. But—they’re just fertile people who don’t have a clue.
What about the “friends” who do have a clue, though? And when I say “friends,” I mean actual friends—not just Facebook connections. What about the people in our lives whom we’ve shared this very painful information with? What do you think about them posting pregnancy announcements on Facebook?
There I go again—thinking only about myself. Oh, infertility—how self-centered it makes me. I’ll admit it. But really …
In our friends’ defense, I understand this is a special time in their lives, and they want to share it with their friends and post it on their Facebook page. I get it. I know. Whatever.
BUT CAN YOU PLEASE SPARE ME THE HEARTACHE AND HIDE ME FROM YOUR #%(*#^)Q$*&Q)(*$#) FACEBOOK PREGNANCY ANNOUNCEMENT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
I guess that’s all I’m asking.
Does it even cross their minds?
But then I think, “Would it have ever crossed mine?”
Did I post way too much about my wedding while Facebook friends were recovering from broken or ended relationships?
Is there something I have that others don’t for which I am ungrateful or post about and, therefore, bring someone else heartache?
I promised myself a loooong time ago that I would not post pregnancy announcements on Facebook because the possibility of it bringing heartache to a Facebook “friend” isn’t worth it. Obviously, if I knew someone who was struggling, it wouldn’t even cross my mind for a second. I would at least hide that person from seeing my post (or posts … and more posts … and, well, more posts after that).
I guess my point is that Facebook pregnancy announcements are going to happen, and the heartache they bring to women who suffer from infertility is inevitable. I don’t know about you, but I can’t blame those who A. don’t really ever think about infertility or realize it exists on a medical level and not just a “Just relax.” level, or B. know that infertility exists but don’t think any of their Facebook “friends” suffer from it.
But the friends who do know? Who have known?
Those who’ve asked questions and gathered all the details?
Those who relish in their happy news with all their Facebook friends WHO JUST HAVE THE BEST LIVES EVER—yet fail to reach out and ask how everything is going with you and … oh, I don’t know … all your failed IVF cycles.
Better yet, they get pregnant and then proceed to live their lives pretending you no longer exist because it’s just too hard and uncomfortable for them to be real and just acknowledge it.
This is difficult for me to figure out because I honestly don’t know what I would have done. Sure, it’s easy for me to say they are selfish, not very good friends, hurtful. But—then again—maybe it’s just me.
I don’t know how to decipher it, but I know this is very common. These predicaments make it very difficult to share your struggle with family and friends. You present them with your deepest heartache in all your vulnerability, and some people care and ask questions and listen and offer words of encouragement and say, “I can’t even imagine. I’m so sorry.” Others? They don’t want to understand, don’t care about it, don’t ask questions, and compare their situation to yours because they haven’t gotten pregnant during the six months they haven’t been preventing it … and then get pregnant and act like it’s the greatest thing in the world—BECAUSE IT IS AND THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU AND THAT’S WHY IT HURTS ME SO MUCH THAT I CAN’T HAVE THAT—and post alllll about it on Facebook, knowing very well that you will see every. single. post.
So, what do you think about Facebook pregnancy announcements? Ha!
Aaaaaand as they say: In other news, my doctor has put me on Depot Lupron for 60 days. I got my first 30-day shot on September 12. Since the end of the 60 days will be mid-November, my husband and I have decided that we’d rather not ruin the holidays and are going to hold off on stim cycle #4 until after December 29 (the day we arrive back home from our Christmas trip to Colorado).
I have no idea what plan my doctor has for my ovaries. All I know is that he—just like my husband—hasn’t given up on them. So, I’m guessing I will be on birth control a good portion of December in preparation for a stim cycle in January. As far as what I’ll do to bridge the Lupron-birth control gap in November? I don’t know, but my doctor knows we want to wait until after the holidays and isn’t worried about bridging that gap. Maybe I’ll just have a natural cycle—who knows.
My WTF appointment is on October 4—five days before my 26th birthday. Birthdays aren’t so great anymore when you find yourself a year older—another year older than what you thought you’d be when having your first baby. I definitely didn’t think I’d be 26—more like 23. Then again—I’m not holding my breath for 26.
The day before my 25th birthday was the day I met my doctor and nurse at Shady Grove.
My next stim cycle will be just about one year (to the day) after my very first stim cycle.
On New Years Eve 2012, I truly believed 2013 would bring me the greatest joy.
When hanging up our Christmas stockings last year I really, really thought we’d have to buy another one for our baby this year.
At least my husband has spared me a trip to Florida over Thanksgiving because two of his cousins are pregnant right now—one due in October, one due in December. It wasn’t supposed to matter because I was supposed to be pregnant too.
My embyro from—not my first cycle of not preventing; not my first cycle of trying; not my first cycle of Clomid; not my first IUI, but—my first IVF cycle was supposed to be a baby scheduled to arrive in October.
I’m blaming my mood on Lupron.