To "That Person" who has had X-number of beautiful, healthy children with no effort or loss or complication -- it is not "an excuse" when an infertile chooses not to "hang out" with you anymore. Sometimes, for some of us, it IS honestly too difficult to be around you. Especially when you're pregnant. I hope you never know the pain that becomes a part of life, but until you do, don't judge me for needing some time apart from you. I wish you could step into my shoes just for a day - preferably a really bad day.
To "That Person" who constantly is asking me when I'm going to have children -- please stop. I know that you don't know anything about our infertility, but if you've asked once, that's enough. Just because you keep asking doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind or have a different answer for you. My hubby and I KNOW that we are good with kids, we KNOW how much we love kids, we KNOW that we look good with babies in our arms, because you've told us a million times. Not to sound cocky, but I'm pretty sure I'll be a great mom, like you tell me alllllllll the time. Unfortunately, none of those things really make a difference in whether or not I actually CAN get or stay pregnant.
To "That Person" who says I should "just adopt" -- You do not "JUST" adopt. Spend some time reading the blog of a family who has adopted their child(ren). Go read the blog of the family who experienced a failed adoption. Spend months getting and filling out paperwork, find the money adoption requires, get the time off from work, figure out childcare if there are other children already in the home, arrange for bills to be paid and your house to be taken care of if the adoption requires travel, navigate a new country that doesn't speak your language if it's international adoption, and that's just the beginning. That's "just" to get your child home. Communication barriers, attatchment difficulties, being in a completely foreign world with complete strangers -- that's not even a chip off the iceberg.
To "That Person" who always comments on the unfairness of the lady who has a bajillion kids that immediately get put in state care -- Tell me about it. Those kids, maybe not specifically THOSE children, but children LIKE them, will one day be MY children. I will have to explain to my children why the woman who gave birth to them, couldn't or didn't take care of them. I will deal with learning disabilities and birth defects and unkown medical histories and fetal alcohol syndrome and ignorant comments about the color of my babies' skin and never knowing what the offspring of my husband and me would look like and explaining to a child why they don't have my eyes or his nose. I will love my children, just as much as if I HAD carried them for 9 months, if not more, but there are a whole host of questions and problems I will deal with for the rest of our lives, because of choices their mother made.
To "That Person" who thinks I hate the birthmother of my children -- Quite the opposite is true. She chose life for her child. She made a decision I'm not sure I would be able to make -- to give her child a chance she could never give him or her. She gave me her baby. She gave me my child. I will send her offspring to their first day of school, I will kiss his boo-boos and help her learn to apply make-up. I will hold her grandchildren. My childrens' birthmother will be giving me a great and awesome gift that I could never repay.
To "That Person" who is supportive, loving, helpful, understanding, and mindful of their comments and quiestions -- Thank you! It is refreshing to know that someone does actually care. I may not always tell you how grateful I am that you answer those nosey questions for me occassionally, ask me how you can help, tell me about the dream you had of holding my Asian baby, let me "borrow" your children when I want one to cuddle or tickle or play with, or just lend an ear and dry my latest tears.
To "that Person" who has nodded or cried or agreed your way through this post -- I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry you understand, I'm sorry you've been there too, I'm sorry things aren't working out like you'd planned. But I'm not sorry I've met you. I'm not sorry we can be there for each other. I'm sorry you know what it's like to leave your shopping cart in the middle of the store because another unknowing person told you they were pregnant and "not even trying," but I'm glad we can be there for each other. I'm sorry your sister/in-laws/co-workers/friends/insertrandompersonhere isn't understanding and that she/he/they just add fuel to the fire, but I'm glad you have at least an online community of supportive friends.
Let me know if you're one of "Those People!"