Scar Tissue

A few weeks ago-- wait, time is moving really fast right now, I guess it was the end of June or early July when Noah busted his lip open and needed stitches. It was ugly-- like literally and figuratively. His lip was hanging in three pieces and he was in pain and pissed off like I've never seen him. Cut to now, about a month later, and he looks and feels pretty good. His lip is still pink and a bit puffy and he has a few scars but no one would really notice, except him. Every time he eats it still feels funny and numb, and every time Momo comes near his face holding a hard object above her head (she's really into throwing things these days), he flinches. He's got a physical and emotional scar. 

He was trying to describe the feeling the other day (because my unemotional rock of a husband is now a guy who can talk about his feelings) and I kind of felt that how he was describing it all felt oddly similar to the IF "journey." I wish I wrote down what he said. Sometimes he's actually quite eloquent. But the gist of the feeling is that it's not on his mind full time the way it was when he had purple stitches poking out of his mouth, but he still thinks about the accident or is reminded about it for some reason daily. 

My reminder of my journey is Momo, but it also comes up in other ways.

A few weekends ago I saw a friend who I lost during the process. That makes it sounds simple. This was my best friend since middle school who got pregnant and basically told everyone but me about it (she knew I was struggling and didn't know how to talk to me), and when she did tell me our conversation somehow ended with me crying and expressing how badly I wanted to be happy for her but how hard it was for me and her saying she was pregnant now and needed to take care of herself. I don't think I necessarily handled myself well or right, but we all know relationships with pregnant friends are hard and we all do the best we can. I did the best I could at that moment and so did she and we both missed the mark. I knew our friendship would be "parked" for a little bit, but I didn't know we would never speak to each other again. Until a few weeks ago. 

It was interesting to see her. Our friendship was drifting a bit before the fertility stuff hit the fan, but we have a lot of history with each other.  I don't think either of us are mad. We chatted briefly-- she has had two kids now. And that was that. But I felt a little like how Noah describes his lip-- numb, wishing it were different, and not that big of a deal all at the same time. 

I'm not sure where I'm going with this but seeing her brought up a variety of different feelings. Sadness at how we parted ways. Frustration that fertility problems can divide friendships. Regret maybe, but also understanding that there were moments in all this where I felt like I had to just save myself. And sometimes it is what it is and things happen. And then we heal and move on, and there's a little bit of a scar that just feels...different. The scar acts as a reminder of the past. It's not a bad thing to think about how we might have done things differently, acted or reacted differently. It's not bad to learn to heal and to think about things we can do better moving forward. And its okay to accept how life sometimes happens, and all we can do is the best we can in each moment. 

Comments

[Don't Count Your Eggs]

Hi D-- I didn't reunite but I have seen her and we've talked and it is kind of what it is. I think seeing her reminds me of the journey and the things that happened. I too have gained a lot of friends and have learned a lot about the kind of friends I want in my life and the kind of friend I want to be. Sorry your friend bailed on you... Jojo, you always are so beautifully articulate. Thank you for sharing. Pamela-- sorry if my title was misleading-- you are dealing with the real thing in a real way. Endo sucks! It's so hard and though I idon'thave first hand experience I know people who have gone through it and are so frustrated by their own body and the choices (or lack of choices) they have. I'm sorry and I wish you luck on the journey. C-- true true true. I'm sorry the world isn't more understanding of secondary infertility. While yes you "already have a kid," the desires to have the family you want to the sibling for your child is just as strong and no one has the right to judge or tell you otherwise. It is even more misunderstood at times. Sending luck and love as always.

[C]

Pamela, I'm sorry you are having health issues and are still trapped on Maya's "island". I deleted my Facebook account a couple of years ago and it's so freeing, one of the best things I ever did. Now contact with friends is much more meaningful

[C]

Pamela, I'm sorry you are having health issues and are still trapped on Maya's "island". I deleted my Facebook account a couple of years ago and it's so freeing, one of the best things I ever did. Now contact with friends is much more meaningful

[C]

I like what you said about being sorry it happened but at the same time it's not a big deal anymore. You have your family to think about now. I think it's a very adult way of reacting. Of course if you didn't have a child yet you would not be able to react in that "adult" way which is understandable! I completely lost a friend a few years ago, indirectly related to secondary infertility, and it was definitely wheat from chaff. Anther casual friend flounced into her house and slammed the door in my face when I complained that she was excluding my only choild from play date arrangements with another mom that the two were making right in front if me. One had three and one had four kids, and when you have secondary infertility it hurts to see other children Head home with siblings never mind with friends. Your child seems so lonely. (I'm sorry, I know there are many who would like that problem.) anyway, that casual friend's self-centered emotional behavior is a little like your friend's. It's good of you to realize neither of you acted perfectly, but some friends are less compassionate than others for sure. I had some friends who handled my struggles with infertility so well, the issue truly did show me the difference between wheat and chaff

[Pamela]

I thought you would be talking about abdominal adhesions from surgeries and endometriosis, as that's an issue I'm dealing with now. The problem with adhesions -- which can wreak havoc on fertility in a number of ways -- is that you can't diagnose them without doing surgery -- and ironically, the surgery can lead to even more scar tissue.

I had minor (laparoscopic) and major (open) abdominal surgery (similar to a c-section but without cutting through the uterus, or getting a baby out of the deal) in 2014 to excise serious endometriosis, and I have no idea if it's back -- if the occasional dull tightness in my abdomen is that, or new surgery-induced adhesions, or just overstrained muscles, or something else entirely. And, of course, many adhesions cannot be felt at all until something goes dangerously wrong.

Anyway. That's the scar tissue I'm dealing with (or not -- who knows?), in addition to the other kind. Feeling kind of numb lately, which is an improvement over how I felt two weeks ago.

And yeah, friends who don't get it and can't be bothered to try to get it (or just be nice and/or give you space without getting huffy about it)... Let's just say one bright side of all this is that it helps to separate wheat from chaff. (Though I do try to be sensitive to others, too, and not try to bring people down during their times of joy. If I'm feeling too awful to be enthusiastic, I just stay quiet. But it is pretty tempting when someone is complaining about their kid on Facebook to comment "File under: Problems I wish I had")

[Jojo]

It is my firm belief that compassion should lead when it comes to friendships. If one friend has easily something another friend desires with all they are-- they are the ones who should be kind and understanding and give space but support from afar. For example-- I have a few friends who are late thirties and not married and really sad and stressed about it. Everytime we get together I do not mention my husband or my happy marriage but just listen and support. I also have friends who are still struggling with primary infertility while I struggle with secondary (after a long primary struggle). When I meet up with them I do not bring up my son, when they ask politely I answer quickly and move on. I know 'bigger people' have capacity for not comparing and just being happy with other's good fortune but when I feel like when I am in the situation where I am the fortunate one- I do not judge others who aren't and have extra compassionate. Phew--- a long winded way of saying that your old friend's reaction to your pain seems a little lacking in compassion. I think sometimes we lose touch with friends naturally when they might not be the greatest at protecting our heart and happiness. My friends with kids my son's age who are now pregnant or have a second are endlessly compassionate and lovely to me which honestly makes it easier to be around them and celebrate their good fortune with true joy.

[D]

Are you saying that you've reunited with this friend, but there's still a bit of lingering scar tissue from your fall-out that will never go away? Or are you saying that you met up, but feel ok with letting go because you were drifting apart anyway, but have forgiven each other?

I've lost friends from the infertility battle, and made others. An interesting case is a friend--single, coming up on being a bit old to start trying to have kids--who was extremely supportive while I was going through my struggles, and then completely disappeared once I got pregnant. That was a surprise.