Wednesday, January 23, 2008

I can be very self involved.

Yeah yeah yeah - this is a blog and it's whole existence is to let people talk about themselves and their feelings and all that. I'm not disagreeing with that at all. Blogs are naturally going to be all about someone's live - be it themselves or their family or their political views, etc. It'll be about what is going on in ~their~ live and what is important.

And the reason I bring up the obvious is that it was through my own blogging that I ended up connecting with a whole network of other bloggers going through exactly what I'm going through. (how's that for a run-on?).

This was not my first blog. I had a blog for just over the year mark when I deleted the whole thing in a fit of anger. I had hundreds of posts just ~gone~ in an instant. The situation that got me to delete was childish in nature, but the way I handled it was also childish. I received a lot of antagonizing comments and I took them hook, line and sinker. Not proud of this tidbit, but I did do it. And when my own creation got to be too much for me, I took my toys and went home. See? Dumb. My first encounter with the Brazilian wax is lost forever. My first 9 months of ttc#3 are gone forever. I certainly paid for my behavior. That's for sure.

Anywho, right before I deleted my first blog is when it all started. I had begun to get a few comments from IFers who found my blog by chance and through linkbacks, I found this community. I made my way back to Mel and her blogroll and I got on that list immediately. Then, of course, I had to change the link to this url, my new blog, but that was just a blip in the ttc blogworld.

I started to focus my blog writing on my ttc journey because that is where I was at the time. I was coming up on my year mark and it was bringing me a lot of stress. I went into trying to conceive with the notion that there was no way I could do the long haul again. But after being around all of your stories, the 18 cycles it took for #1 seems comparatively easy. While 18 cycles isn't a walk in the park, I now focused more on being lucky than being the IF victim.

My "18 cycles" mark seemed so far away. And now I'm currently in the 2ww of C16. I'm very close to the place where I said I wouldn't be able to go again. What scares me even more is the "after 18 cycles" place is unknown to me. I defined my (in)fertility as disease that lasted 18 months. I always considered it to have an ending point, something I foolishly enjoyed. I have always tried to put myself in the shoes of a primary IFer, but the biggest difference was they didn't know when their disease would get better. And while I never said it aloud, I had an endpoint. 18 cycles. I honestly thought that was the limit for me and I would achieve another pregnancy before that.

And now I approach it and I know so much more about infertility. I've said it yet I haven't understood it yet. I may not conceive again. 18 cycles is not when I am magically cured of my disease. And while I am dealing with unknowns, I do have an ending point. I have 7 more cycles before I close up shop. There will be a new upper limit of 23 cycle when it's all said and done. And this time, I may not have a swelling belly to show for it.

Having a limited amount of tries has caused me to be more emotional with each failure and more anxiety with each new try. Back when ttc#1, while I didn't know if I'd ever get pregnant, I was still "young(er)". At that time, I didn't have a self-imposed age limit where I would hang up my gloves. This age limit came about for other reasons than for the simple fact of my age. We have other, very important reasons for stopping when I turn 36. I will admit we can afford "quitting" because we already have two children. If we were still ttc#1, I'm sure I would keep trying until menopause (or any other infertility condition) took the chance away from me.

I feel more emotionally tied to each cycle now. Which makes for a more self involved Nancy. A missed chance then meant another month trying. A missed chance now means a cycle lost. This self involvement is manifesting in ways I don't like. I have always been a wordy commenter at times on other people's blogs. If there is something I have experience with, I'm going to take the time to share it in the hopes that I can help. But I've found myself starting to compare my situation when trying to support someone else. I've found myself saying things like "at least you get to do x and y. X and y are impossibilities for me."

AARRRGGHHHH!! I hate that! Who cares what my possibilities are? When someone needs support, they need support. They don't need to be compared to what I'm going through. I'm doing the exact thing I can't stand when done to me. It's no different than the snarky comment of "well, at least you have children, I don't" I sometimes get.

At least I'm aware of it. I'm trying to make sure I don't do it anymore. And I know it gets through and I hit "submit comment" before I really consciously think about it. Heck, it just happened last night and I deleted it and re-wrote it this morning. When commenting to someone, I want to leave me out of it, unless something in my experience can be beneficial to them. Self involvement blows and my New Year's resolution, 3 weeks late, is to remove myself from someone else's support. I can say "sorry" without telling them how my situation is better or worse. I can congratulate someone without mentioning how they are lucky because it didn't work for me. I resolve to focus on other people, instead of myself. My blog will still be about me, as that is what blogs are for. But that is where it needs to stop.


Io said...

Now, I don't know why you would *want* to save memories of your first Brazilian wax, but I'm sorry you deleted your blog.
You do an *amazing* job of being supportive. If you are *snarky* on the inside, it doesn't show. (You do come across as having an honest and frank personality, but certainly not a mean-spirited one.) We wouldn't be human if we didn't compare ourselves and I always appreciate your comments.

Lori said...

You said what I feel very well. I wonder if sometime I am not a good commenter because I bring me into it too much.

Maybe that's a feeling common to bloggers, and it's OK because it keeps our egos in check.


I know I'm new to your blog, but I don't see you that way at all.


Jen said...

For what it is worth I think you are incredibly supportive. Hell just this morning I was reading a very reassuring comment on my blog from you. So don't be too hard on yourself.

babytlc said...

You are very supportive even when you don't realize it.

And, I understand. I had to stop myself from making a comment on a preggo blog. She was upset over being uncomfortable.

B said...


Ain't nothin' wrong with sharing your context whilst commenting on others' blogs. It's how we get to know each other. Truly, an "I've been there and this is how I coped" comment is more valuable than "You rock!" (Hmmm... "You rock!" is also a great one to get... but you know what I mean, no?)

Only you can know the intent behind your comments. Sometimes my intent is a little snarky, and I have to choose NOT to hit that danged Submit button. I let fly two times and regret them both to this day.

There's me sharing my context again. Bad Bree, bad!

Anyhoo, feel free to keep sharing your context and experiences on my blog. While our situations are very different, I appreciate your take on things.

To put the fertility blogosphere into a feminist lens: You know that tried and true feminist/postmodern saying, "Context is everything?" By sharing our contexts with each other, truly and fully, we learn more about ourselves and each other. Without understanding another's context, it is difficult to fully empathize with or support them.

To close... You. Rock.

And I'm cheering you on from the sidelines.