Things I Wish I Could Tell People About Grieving My Infertility

Through various online support communities, I came across the list below, originally published here. I wanted to reproduce it in my own blog, expanding with my own thoughts. The bolded items are the original list, and I've added my thoughts below each point.

1. I wish you would not be afraid to speak to me about my losses, my infertility, and to ask what you can do to help. Sometimes I feel like people think I have some kind of contagious shame. It is incredibly lonely to bear this burden with just my husband, and to be honest, it's nice to get support from someone other than my spouse.
2. If I cry or get emotional when we talk about them, I wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. The fact that I have suffered has caused my tears. You have allowed me to cry, and I thank you. Crying and emotional outbursts are healing. As I said in my last post, I cry. A lot. I don't think I've ever cried so much before in my life. And it helps in ways I can't describe. And yes, sometimes I like to put Radiohead and Ben Folds and other emo music on loop and cry it out for a set period of time. Because it really does help.
   
3. I wish you wouldn’t pretend that nothing is happening to me, because it is a large part of my life. I need my friends and family by my side. POF is more than just about infertility. It carries lifelong health risks that are just as terrifying as not being able to have your own children. My Dx does not define me, as I have been told, but it does make up a large portion of who I am, and thus, occupies my thoughts. A lot.
   
4. I will have emotional highs and lows, ups and downs. I wish you wouldn’t think that if I have a good day, my grief is over, or that if I have a bad day, I need psychiatric counseling. I can be having a perfectly awesome day and something like seeing matching mother-daughter retro-styled aprons in a store window can totally ruin the rest of the day for me. I literally take this one day at a time.
   
5. Being an infertile person is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me. POF is not contagious. It affects a very small number of the population. And while it might be on my mind 24/7, I still enjoy your company and talking about scrapbooking and shopping and Wii Fit and going out to eat and Wrestlemania and just hangin out.
6. I wish you knew that all of the “crazy” grief reactions I am having are in fact very normal. Depression, anger, frustration, hopelessness, and questioning of values and beliefs are to be expected during and following what is happening to me. I'm kind of going through it all at once. Call me a non-traditionalist when it comes to grieving. But every day is different, and I work through each day one at a time.
   
7. I wish you would understand the physical reactions to grief. I may gain weight or lose weight…sleep all the time or not at all…want to surround myself with business or be all alone, all of which may be related to my grief. It's nothing personal. My husband is an extrovert when it comes to dealing with his grief. He likes to surround himself with others. I am an introvert, but I desperately seek validation for my emotions in others.
8. My birthday, anniversaries of the diagnosis, holidays, and the days I find out that this cycle too was a bust, are all terrible times for me. I wish you could tell me that you are thinking about me, and if I get quite withdrawn, just know I am doing my best to cope. Please don’t try to coerce me into being cheerful or tell me that it will be better soon. Arieh has always said that I hold a grudge for life. The day after St. Patrick's day is forever ruined, and not just from the usual post-St. Pat's day hangover. And we haven't even started any fertility treatments yet, so I have no clue what our emotional states will be like once we start that part of our journey.
   
9. It is normal and good that most of us re-examine our faith, values, and beliefs throughout this journey. We will question things we have been taught all our lives, and hopefully come to some new understandings to include those with God. I'm not trying to be pushy, but God and I are not right with each other right now. I'm working through it, and if it looks like I've given up on God, it's nothing personal, and it's not abandonment. I know I'll be back. You can't be angry at something you don't believe in. I just need time.
   
10. I wish you understood that infertility changes people. I am not the same person I was before I experienced it. My entire future family that I have dreamed of sharing with my soulmate has been completely taken away from me. While we may still be parents, it will not be easy for us to get to that point, and it challenges notions of pregnancy achievement that most other couples take for granted. And despite our best hopes, we might never be parents- adoption is not as easy as everyone thinks it is, and it's not for everyone. It is no easy process any way you slice it and will impact so many aspects of our lives, such that, we cannot help but be changed by the experience. I'd like to think that it's not that the old Miriam and Arieh are gone, rather, we are a changed couple with different thoughts on hope, strength, and determination. These things are defined in new ways for us.
    

I have to take this one day at a time, and honestly, we need all the support we can get. And we are so blessed and grateful for it.