Since I posted this Tuesday night, some great comments have come in, please check them out below…
The DMZ — or Demilitarized Zone — for those not conversant in military acronyms describes a no-man’s land. It’s a good metaphor for women like me except I’ll modify it some to be the DFZ. I’ll explain further but let me be clear my intent is not to complain. In fact, I’ve been quite touched by the early and regular comments and encouragement from women who are expecting, women who are hoping very soon to be expecting and women who are adopting.
It’s just that outside of the comments I receive from women in my shoes, it’s a little lonely in the category where I reside. My blogroll has only one other women currently like me: childfree (but not by choice) and no longer actively pursuing treatment. We are letting nature take its course. In my case a pregnancy would be nothing short of a full-blown miracle. Until menopause takes place in the next 10 years, however, I’m not entirely willing to discount the impossible.
Back to you. Humans associate with those who share common experiences and outlooks. It’s only natural. The communities of interest on the web run the gambit. I readily admit that I’m more likely to linger on blogs written by women who are in between treatments, women who have recently stumbled in their treatments or women who are considering putting an end to their treatments. Why? It’s not that misery loves company it’s just that I can relate.
Never, not once, not even by accident have I ever in my entire life gotten more than one pink line on a home pregnancy test. Mommy blogs? They’re as foreign to me as visiting Mars. I don’t have any idea what their life is like. Much as I want to relate to once infertile women who are now pregant, I don’t have the foggiest notion what their bodies are experiencing. Women facing secondary infertility. Ditto. The idea of having one child is heaven on earth to me. In their case, I can relate to the shock and despair of realizing that the body isn’t performing like it should, but beyond that, the only thing I have to offer to the secondary infertility discussion is sympathy. Women who are pursuing adoption? I admire them greatly, truly. My husband and I are not through grieving and are still coming to terms with our circumstances. The last thing we’d want to do is rush into a significant, serious decision to raise someone else’s child right now. That’s a decision not to be taken lightly. For years it would have been too painful to venture out and read anyone’s blogs. I lacked the emotional strength. But I do visit your blogs now, comment and look for what we have in common, instead of what separates us.
What’s going on in the DFZ? Well, the few notes I’ve received from women in my shoes explain that they abandoned their blogs when they stopped treatment. They didn’t feel they had anything left to contribute. And, more often, others have said that their pain is simply too hard to communicate on a regular basis so they have completely withdrawn from the topic — and not just in blogs. They are the ones I worry about.
So, to those of you who are now mommies, infertile once but now pregnant, facing secondary infertility or adopting, please remember (and visit) those of us who are in the DFZ. We still need your support, even if it’s only to say our voice still matters.