Conversations

It seems like a lot of the joy people express when they've been struggling to have a child and then they finally have one is that they can finally participate in the same conversations as everyone else. This is not often verbalized, of course, but you kind of sense it. The people that used to be mocked or joked about are now just people to talk to. Pregnancy ups and downs, diapers, the first this, the first that -- all of this is now fair game for the formerly excluded man or woman.

Conversations are so important in our daily lives, and yet I think we probably take them for granted. A conversation is a sharing of thoughts, experiences, and ideas. Sharing a conversation can strengthen and deepen a friendship or relationship. Feeling excluded from the conversation can result in a weakening of the relationship or feelings of depression. We know all of this stuff in our heads, but we don't really think about it much.

Since the onslaught of online networking sites, especially Facebook, it seems like common conversations are ever-present. As a woman who has no chance of going through pregnancy and who has a pretty slim chance of ever having a child in any way, being exposed to these conversations can really wear me down sometimes. It's not that I begrudge people these conversations, and no matter how tempting it may be, I don't really think it's right to say, "Hey, can all of you new parents I'm friends with talk about other stuff?" What I really lament though is that pregnancy and then parenthood are so all-encompassing and major life factors that there aren't many other conversations going on that I can relate to. My Facebook network has become a place where I can't really feel comfortable a lot of the time, and the same holds true for real-life gatherings.

What can we do about this? Well, like I said, I suppose one option could be to try to change the subject, but that gets pretty obvious and pretty old after awhile, and I think it can also come across as selfish. "What, I can't talk to another friend of mine about the fact that this major change is coming in my life?" Yeah. I wouldn't like that either.

Not surprisingly, starting a conversation about infertility doesn't really work either. Talking about nausea and morning sickness at a dinner table still carries an air of excitement. Talking about depression because of infertility is a real buzz kill.

I guess, in an ideal world, folks would occasionally take breaks from their talk of pregnancy and excitement and wonder and ask me about that book I mentioned, or ask me how my trip was, or ask me what crafts I'm working on these days. Or tell me about books they're reading. But in an ideal world, I would still be able to have good conversations with people who have children or who are expecting. They would still meet me at points that we have in common and we could return to those points, much like you used to return to the "safe" spot during games of tag. I would never ask someone to squelch their joy or excitement or sharing. I just wish infertility wasn't synonymous with feeling left out.