Misery loves company

tree, San Francisco, Canon Digital Rebel

I have always hated that expression. It sounds so mean-spirited… like we would prefer others to be unhappy around us if we’re unhappy, that we cannot celebrate others if we are suffering.

And I suppose at times, this might be true.

But I’ve been hearing the refrain in my head lately. Misery loves company, misery loves company… and wondering about it. Wanting to explore it. Wondering if it’s not so much that we want others to be miserable, but that we just don’t want to be alone in our pain.

I don’t want to be alone in my pain.

I googled “infertility blog” a few weeks ago and found this incredible woman’s story. As I read her post called “surviving infertility” I wept and wept at the resonance of it all. It was as if she was putting words to so much of my insides. I felt less alone.

Misery loves company.

There is a lot of ugliness in this infertility business. There are pregnant women that pass you by on the street, and on good days you feel a wistful hope, and on bad days you want to tip them over. I think I have even given these women (totally against my will) dirty looks on occasion. Or I just can’t look at all. These feelings are hard to be with. Not only is there sadness, but then you have to deal with the shame of feeling this way about such a beautiful innocent person.

There are baby showers and blankets to knit and announcements and you want SO badly to celebrate with that still good part of your heart, the part that wants the best for everyone, the part that wants to hear every detail about every kick and heartbeat. And most of the time you can manage it. You can muster up a smile and maybe even show up for the party.

And there are the times when you can’t. When that other part of you takes over and you just can’t imagine the humiliation of going somewhere and feeling sad and afraid and how are you going to leave the party without anyone knowing? and what if just by being there people feel awkward? And what if I am like a sad little infection hanging in the room?

Sometimes I don’t trust myself to be okay, to hold it together. I don’t expect others to understand. And so I hide out.

An amazing woman named Denise emailed me some months ago, telling me that we were going through the same thing and if I wanted a pal in this she was there. She has been a great gift to me in this process, someone who gets it in a way that others just don’t, and it is endlessly comforting to me. Our bond is sacred.

A friend of mine said to me once, “We are all in the waiting room together. We are all waiting for something.” I think that room has been so dark for so long, I didn’t know there was anyone else in there. I didn’t feel connected. I felt completely alone.

And then someone reached out their hand.

And I had some company.


  1. Jane
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 10:57 am | Permalink

    Please do not ever feel alone. I have missed your postings in the past few days, I always check to see if you’ve posted something new. So even though we do not know one another, we are connected. Today I send warm thoughts and many blessings to you. You are a light that brightens my day as well as many others, never lose sight of the goodness you do in this world. Maybe misery just needs company who can help them brighten their day as much as you always brighten mine!

  2. nadine
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 11:29 am | Permalink

    Andrea, thank you for sharing this part of you.
    I almost hesitate to send you this saying, because it seems too glib for the journey you are on …. But it never fails to bring a smile to my face when I think of it, and maybe it will to you too …
    “Things always turn out ok in the end. If things are not ok, it is not the end.”

  3. Lucille
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 11:49 am | Permalink

    Hi there. I only stumbled across your blog a few weeks ago. I find it sychronistic to read this last entry of yours. I was in the same place you were, but a few years back. I read everything I could get my hands on, I had all the tests, I prayed, I made deals with God… It wasn’t until I just stopped it all — all the wistfulness, the bitterness and the anger and just decided, well, maybe this is not meant to be (still, all the while taking my Clomid and going in for the inseminations with my poor husband—so I didn’t give up all hope), that I think it finally happened. That is not always the case. But many many people have said to me when you let go, you let it happen—not just this stuff, but all things. And I believe it to be true, although it is hard to do… I wish you the best. The very best…

  4. Kate
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 12:04 pm | Permalink

    Oh Andrea! You are so right: misery NEEDS company because then they won’t feel so sad. I’ve been very very depressed lately and cannot fathom why. I live in this big city, SURROUNDED by people all day, but I feel so tired and so alone, like life and all its goodness is happening to everyone but me. It’s no good breaking my own heart. Your words make me feel so much relief and recognition. Hopefully, someone in this dark dark waiting room will produce a nice candle so we can see each other’s faces.
    You are such a dear and wonderful person! I am sending blessings your way!

  5. Posted March 2, 2006 at 12:09 pm | Permalink

    loving you.

  6. Sam
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 12:15 pm | Permalink

    Your words have made me well up. I’ve not been through this before but I can really feel your sadness, you’ve described it so well. You have so much to give. Andrea, you WILL be a mother. I can feel it.

  7. katy
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 12:17 pm | Permalink

    this entry really hit home with me. i have been depressed and feeling alone too lately for a different reason. most people just dont understand so i dont talk about it. its hard when you feel sad and not understood. greiving alone sucks.

  8. Emily
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 12:51 pm | Permalink

    The infertility roller coaster. It’s no amusement park ride. Some time ago I watched my sister and her husband go through that ultimate and ironic heaviness-the waiting and the hoping and the waiting and the hoping and, always, the resolve to start again.
    It seems practically unbearable.
    My nephew is four now. He’s learning to roller skate. March 5 we will celebrate “airplane day,” the day he arrived from Korea.
    I won’t romanticize. And, I tell you, I can’t imagine this life without him.
    Thank you for your site. It’s beautiful, all your love and creativity.

  9. Posted March 2, 2006 at 12:55 pm | Permalink

    Though I don’t know you…i am so sorry to hear that you are going thorugh such a struggle. I have a friend who went through a similar struggle and after many trials and tribulations,she was finally blessed with a beautiful baby….i wish for you the same gift.

  10. Posted March 2, 2006 at 1:12 pm | Permalink

    What a beautiful, brave post. Thank you.

  11. Kelly
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 1:30 pm | Permalink

    In my favorite Guided Meditation, Belleruth, the narrator, asks you to imagine a Band of Allies (sound familiar?) surrounding you. “You can see in their eyes, in their knowing looks, that they understand how hard it has been, how lonely and isolated you have felt.”
    And so it is true the Misery Loves Company. I find the phrase very platitudinally simplistic, but it looks as though you’ve discovered the kernel of truth in the platitude. I’m embarrassed when I come upon some new deep intense understanding, only to try and explain it to someone and have it come out sounding *so* cliched.
    I am sorry to hear you are still having trouble. It will all sort itself out, you’ll see, and it will be gorgeous. Keep the faith!

  12. Posted March 2, 2006 at 1:35 pm | Permalink

    I am so sorry that you are still going through this pain. But I am glad you have found that special friend whose sacred bond with you is helping you through this. There is just no substitute for a person who has truly experienced what you are experiencing – who can hold your hand in the darkness and be there with you, feeling what you feel. It is always a true blessing and relief to have company in our pain.
    I really like what your friend said about us all waiting for something. That “something” might change, but it is always good to have some company in that waiting room.
    Love to you,

  13. Posted March 2, 2006 at 1:47 pm | Permalink

    That’s for blogging. You are ba bigger part of my life than you’ll ever know. Beautiful post , beautiful picture, so many thoughts to ponder…

  14. Posted March 2, 2006 at 1:48 pm | Permalink

    That’s for blogging. You are bigger part of my life than you’ll ever know. Beautiful post , beautiful picture, so many thoughts to ponder…

  15. Posted March 2, 2006 at 2:12 pm | Permalink

    oh dear. this is so hard. that it is common is no comfort. that it may resolve on a day other than today is no comfort. thank goodness boho comforts you. your journey inspires others and however it resolves on that date yet unknown, you will remain brave and beautiful to me. you are just you and all your birth wishes are, for now, wishes. i hope that you meet soon and that your journey is meaningful to you. so much love and empathy, p.

  16. Mindy M.
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 2:20 pm | Permalink

    Thank you for talking about this. I have not experienced infertility firsthand but have a very close friend that has battled it. She recently had triplets. I learned from her how difficult it is to deal with it each day without losing yourself in it. I’m glad you found someone you could connect with. I felt so useless sometimes with my friend because I had no idea how hard it was for her, and I knew it took a lot of effort on her part to talk to me about it because I have a child. All I could do was listen and hurt for her. I know you get lots of unwanted advice so I won’t offer any of my own. I pray that you are blessed with a child to pour out on all the love you have welled up inside you.

  17. cheryl
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 2:27 pm | Permalink

    you know, i just realised as i read this that i’ve not been letting myself want, for fear of not being able to live with the pain of not getting it.
    i’m in awe of how you have been able to do this.
    this weekend i’m going to start letting myself discover what my hearts’ desire is, and then i’m going to actually desire it. even though has the potential to be really painful – and as you show, it does hurt, really deeply.
    but you also show that there’s a wholeness to be found in the wanting. and i think i’m missing that.

  18. jennifer
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 2:27 pm | Permalink

    my sister and i often talk about the way, when things feel really bad, we get this feeling that we have all of these women standing behind us. sometimes i wonder if they’re my oldest grandmothers, or maybe the feeling of friendship i have from blogging with other women, hanging out with close friends, phone conversations, etc… in any case, what i’m thinking is, i cannot know what you are going through, but i can offer you the image of a bunch of women, going back farther than you can see, standing there…like a wall you can just lean against for whatever reason…(i must warn you that if you were to lean on me today, i would smell like bacon because of my meat eating partner, but i would gladly let you rest here if it didn’t bother you) xojennifer

  19. Posted March 2, 2006 at 2:56 pm | Permalink

    so interesting, because i did a post not terribly long ago, where in a moment of my misery, i read your blog, and swirly’s and selftaughtgirl, and in your words i found some of the same feelings that i was experiencing… about life, about doubt, about passion. And yes, i felt better because i was not alone in that dark waiting room. I”m thrilled BohemianGirl is there for you in this way…. and I wish you both all the best in this difficult time.

  20. Shari
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 3:03 pm | Permalink

    You are such a full of wonder person…I hope, hope, hope that one day you will be able to share that with your child. I know I love to see what you will come up with next. May the Universe send you a lucky little being who will get you for a parent.

  21. Posted March 2, 2006 at 3:43 pm | Permalink

    I’m glad you’ve found comfort in the “waiting room”… I can understand completely. (isn’t THAT something you get tired of hearing??) I am infertile and after having ovaries drilled, sex several times with a thin catheter, etc… it just hasn’t been in the cosmos for a little one to be in our life. I turn 40 this year and if I sit still long enough to think on it all, it can really hurt like a sombitch. I’m finally coming back to the realization that I still have a life, well, two: mine and my husband’s. As we share these lives, I maintain the strength to say that life IS good.

  22. Posted March 2, 2006 at 5:11 pm | Permalink

    Two things I would like to share that have helped me on my journey through infertility and multiple miscarriages~
    1. Screaming the words from the bottom of my soul to the Shackles song by Mary Mary in my car. I sent a copy to Denise and would be happy to send you one too.
    2. Ivfconnections.com bulletin boards~ a little addicting but I found wonderful support there from women who had the same exact problems and were at the same exact stage in the journey as I was.
    3. The book Inconceivable.
    The pain can be exruciating. It has been hard for me that I feel such mixed feelings about friends and family’s pregnancies. I can’t tell you how many showers I have left only to cry my eyes out in the car all the way home. No matter how much I try to remember their luck has no impact on my chances, it still brings up resentment.

  23. Mia
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 6:02 pm | Permalink

    Recently I went to my therapist and I told her how badly I am wanting to find the perfect man and get pregnant. At 33 I am a bit sick and tired of trying to find the right one. And she said the most unusual thing to me. She said “But you are already pregnant”. and I said “What?” and she said “Yes you are pregnant with possibilites, with hope, with love, with life and with a baby. The baby just has not manifested itself physically yet in your life, yet but it will”. I thought this was really quite odd but it made sense to me on a level that is still incomprehensible to me if I use logic.
    Hope this may be of some help.

  24. Mia
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 6:02 pm | Permalink

    Recently I went to my therapist and I told her how badly I am wanting to find the perfect man and get pregnant. At 33 I am a bit sick and tired of trying to find the right one. And she said the most unusual thing to me. She said “But you are already pregnant”. and I said “What?” and she said “Yes you are pregnant with possibilites, with hope, with love, with life and with a baby. The baby just has not manifested itself physically yet in your life, yet but it will”. I thought this was really quite odd but it made sense to me on a level that is still incomprehensible to me if I use logic.
    Hope this may be of some help.

  25. Meg
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 6:44 pm | Permalink

    Oh gosh Andrea, that made me cry. I don’t think your ever alone… even when you feel like it. Ever ever. I think a lot of people are kind of holding their breath and waiting for you. And it’s going to work out somehow… I wrote ages ago and told you about a long story about a family I knew who adopted and THEN got pregnant, and it’s a very imperfict story, but it has a lot of love in it… and some day, something will come together and it will be RIGHT.
    Do you know, I’m just about 26, and am at the point in my life where I when I miss a period I get really worried, becuase I’m not ready for a baby. But my biggest fear is probably being infertil. I worry about it a lot. I have always had a very irregular cycle, and low body tempature, and as much as people tell me “oh it won’t matter” I worry and worry. I have for about 10 years now. I think that’s kind of crazy, personally, but yeah. Perhaps my crazyness is a little comforting? I think perhaps you’ve got more company in that room then you know. So if there is no light, start feeling around, lots of people are sitting really close.

  26. Brian
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 8:25 pm | Permalink

    I read your weblog frequently as a lurker. Though I can’t understand what you are going through in terms of specifics, the post still touched me. I too found connectivity with other people who experience a similar affliction I do. The world was so lonely before I met them. And now? Now that pain has become a channel for growth, an opportunity to share with others, and a healer. All I could think when I read this was namaste. You are a beautiful soul and I know things will work out for the best for you. Thanks.

  27. Posted March 2, 2006 at 9:54 pm | Permalink

    Thank goodness for Denise and all the other angels who show up just when we need them.
    I cannot relate to your infertility woes, but I have been battling with my own demons for far too long.
    In the last couple of weeks, dealing with what feels like yet another catastrophe, I have been very much feeling like “misery loves company.”
    It is painful to feel that low and especially hard to look around you, at your friends and acquaintances, getting what they deserve and wondering why you don’t deserve as much.
    I am ashamed of these feelings. But I have to feel and acknowledge those feelings or I can’t get over them.
    The universe has been kind enough to give me no more than I can handle at one time… and I have bent many times, but not broken. Strength is a curse for me sometimes because it keeps me from asking for help, but the angels arrive anyway. And when they don’t, I still make it through another day.
    Thank you for always being willing to share with your loyal readers even the most painful moments. You are a blessing; the treasure I look for every day!

  28. yasmin
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 9:59 pm | Permalink

    You and all the women who have commented here, are an inspiration to us all. Thank you for your combined strength, honesty and kindness (to yourselves and others) Andrea, your site and all the people who visit your site, give me hope for the future and the future of the human race. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you – Yasmin

  29. LB
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 10:49 pm | Permalink

    Andrea, I seriously cannot believe that you and I are processing these exact same emotions so intensely in the same week. I’ve been posting some pretty ugly and jealous sides of my mind lately on my blog and it’s been excruciating for me to admit that I am such a selfish and negative person at times. But just know that you are not alone and that we are not bad people… just (temporarily?!) sad women who can’t wait to create new life with the men that we love. Ugh. It sucks so much.
    But I’ve been wearing a Superhero bracelet for over a year now and it helps bring a little extra positivity to my days, especially when I think of you and the strength and optimism that I can tell you have.
    Thank you for sharing, Andrea.

  30. Jill Valle
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 11:18 pm | Permalink

    and it is ok to not hold it together, and it is ok to hide out, what you are going through is so intense, so real, and so painful. may you and the company you keep be deeply blessed.
    “If each day falls inside each night, there exists a well where clarity is imprisoned. We need to sit on the rim of the well of darkness and fish for fallen light with patience.”
    Pablo Neruda

  31. Adina
    Posted March 2, 2006 at 11:27 pm | Permalink

    This is a horrible struggle but I know in some way or another you will succeed. In the recent past I gave up medication and tried to just clean up my mind and trust in me and everything and everybody that things will be ok. Things are ok now, and I think it is because of the change in my mind.
    I know it sounds weird, but give it a try, no matter how hard and absurd it may seem at first. Believe.
    Your words and worries have reminded me of blog: http://www.alittlepregnant.com. Give it a try.

  32. Posted March 2, 2006 at 11:33 pm | Permalink

    this image of the waiting room has walked across my heart tonight Andrea. beautiful. and then someone reached out there hand. yes. this is what we are all searching for. company in the midst of the sharp, deep pain life hands us. you are so amazing. you teach all of us so much with your words, your truth.
    light and peace to you my dear as you take another step every day.

  33. Posted March 3, 2006 at 12:22 am | Permalink

    Andrea, I’ve never met you, but like so many others you have touched my life in so many ways. I’m glad that you have found someone to share this process with, and hold your hand.
    If I could wrap my arms around you, I would.
    Sending lots of love your way.

  34. William
    Posted March 3, 2006 at 1:25 am | Permalink

    You’re not alone. This is just to send my love. You’ve got a lot of love already, looking at all these comments, but here’s some more.

  35. Posted March 3, 2006 at 2:56 am | Permalink

    i so very much know what you are going through…having been there myself at one time. your words ring so true with me. at the time of my MC, my mom (without a thought to my feelings) announced that my sister-in-law was pregnant and that i should call her to congratulate her. i felt like someone shot me in the chest. i couldn’t call her…i couldn’t be happy for someone who wasn’t even “trying” to have a baby. if i called her, it wouldn’t have been authentic. i needed to wait and heal my own wounds first.
    not everyone in my family understood, but i needed to be true to myself and the hurt in my soul.
    i send you love…and all my hopes,

  36. Posted March 3, 2006 at 3:31 am | Permalink

    Hi – thanks for this posting – some time ago I must have subscribed to you in bloglines but I’ve not really been reading and then today I start and you really speak to me!
    I’d recently heard the phrase “Misery loves company” and not worked it out at all… in my experience when I’m down I’d rather not talk and no-one wants to talk to me either ?
    But I have also noticed that when I’m really brimming over with happiness I’ve had people try and pull me down… I’d always put that down to my bad habit of singing out loud when happy… but now you’ve given me another idea… ?
    And by the way, me too on the infertility thing… I’m now 47 (I think) and probably no chance left… I have stopped hoping anyway… but I’d still welcome one if he or she came…
    Bless you!

  37. Posted March 3, 2006 at 5:21 am | Permalink

    I had thought, from time to time, of mentioning Tertia to you…
    She has a wonderful personality, and I had thought you might like her.
    But I don’t know you, and felt shy.
    It’s hard for people who love someone who is having fertility issues – we often don’t know how to behave, what to say, how to feel for them. Women like Tertia are helping us too.

  38. jill
    Posted March 3, 2006 at 6:11 am | Permalink

    it would always catch people off guard when i would talk about infertility issues so openly…{i still do}…but i met so many people through speaking up…i will tell you…all of my friends have infertility issues to some extent…all to different extremes of course…but i feel so grateful for friends who understand and care…and i feel grateful { i certainly never thought i’d say that…} to have gone through everything i have…including miscarrige {the hardest thing i’ve ever experienced}…because i realize now…i can relate to people better…i can have empathy for them…i know there are lots of comments on here…but i felt compelled to share my story as well…have a beautiful day~jill

  39. Laura
    Posted March 3, 2006 at 7:31 am | Permalink

    We are all in fact in the waiting room. I can not identify with your infertility struggle. I am in the waiting room, though, for love. To find the right man to begin that chapter with. I tell you this because in my hardest times with it, I’ve read your blog and the encouraging words you’ve given about your own struggle in looking for love. Those words give me so much hope and make me feel so much less alone.
    The thing is, think back to those times and realize that when you’re in the midst of it all, its so hard to see the outside. But its there. You’ll make it through this and then one day your words on your blog will comfort someone else by giving them the hope that they’ll make it through, like you did.

  40. jenn
    Posted March 3, 2006 at 3:06 pm | Permalink

    Sweet Andrea,
    I have such love for you. I hold your spirit close and wish you all peace in the world.
    I believe we are sent Angels when we need them. I am so glad to hear you found one of yours.

  41. Posted March 3, 2006 at 4:38 pm | Permalink

    Sending you love and comfort dear one.

  42. Posted March 3, 2006 at 7:44 pm | Permalink

    You are not alone. There is a wonderful, truly wonderful community online for others who are struggling with IF. Tertia’s and Julie’s (alittlepregnant.com) are great places to start to make that connection. I send you waves of warm wishes-this site is one of my inspirations and I admire the path of your beautiful life. Take good care of you.

  43. Alison
    Posted March 3, 2006 at 10:00 pm | Permalink

    I know I can’t claim to know you, Andrea, but having been reading your blog for awhile now and having been so often moved and inspired, I can’t imagine a more wonderful mother than you. My heart goes out to you and the pain you are in. I hope you aren’t afraid to grieve. I hope you feel okay about your misery over these issues. Don’t feel ashamed and doubtful. You have a right to grieve. You have a right to your sadness, anger, all that.
    I hope the best for you. I will pray (to the big bad universe) that a little bundle comes into your life, however that may work out. And we all know that he or she will have the coolest mom!

  44. sophia
    Posted March 3, 2006 at 10:06 pm | Permalink

    You express this feeling so eloquently and with much love. I have been there, and like someone said earlier here, many of us have experienced different degrees of infertility. If I can share what someone said to me as I tried to get pregnant: A friend said to me, “It’s like looking for a house—It’s a bunch of no, no, no no, no and when are we going to…? and then all of a sudden a yes. All it takes is one yes.” I don’t know if that sounds dumb, but it comforted me. There are no maybes or I’ll think about its or kind ofs in this case. All it takes is one yes.
    all the best to you.

  45. Carie
    Posted March 4, 2006 at 6:34 am | Permalink

    You know what I did once to combat those feelings? I decided to make everyone else a little jealous and went out and got my belly pierced and wore a bikini that whole summer :c)
    One of the other greatest revenges was walking around after we adopted Gabbi in my size six jeans carrying a 2 week old. People at the shops were amazed I was already in my “skinny” jeans. I just smiled and told them that Yoga did miracles for me.
    Actually Yoga did do miracles for me. Finding Yoga during my infertility was like finding a life line. I found a wonderful class, with a beautiful teacher and it was there I allowed myself to heal and discover I was strong. It was there I realized I was a great mother inside whether I had children or not. It was there during a moment of meditation this voice inside myself shouted at me. “This Child Is NOT Coming From YOu! You need to go find her!” Subtle huh?….

  46. Rachel
    Posted March 4, 2006 at 9:42 am | Permalink

    Even though I don’t know you personally, and even though I’m a twenty-three year old woman who hasn’t even married her fiancee yet, I do spend a great deal of time thinking about having a baby in the far, far-away future. I read your blog constantly, and as I read this post, my eyes filled with tears. You are such a wonderful person, and you deserve all the happiness in the world! All I can say/write is that I’m sending you lots of love, the biggest hug, and many prayers…

  47. Caroline
    Posted March 4, 2006 at 11:34 am | Permalink

    Hi Andrea,
    I’m a little past this stage now (my babies are 21 and 10) but I clearly remember the feeling of desperation to have another baby (my 10 year old). I was with a man who had teenagers,a vasectomy and did not want more children. I dreamt nightly of giving birth and breastfeeding. It felt pretty dismal.
    One day, this man’s son gave me a small stone effigy of a turtle — I soon learned that turtle (according to Jamie Sam’s “Medicine Cards”) is the Native American medicine for fertility. Within a short time of receiving this turtle, I left my partner, met someone else and was pregnant within six months, hence, my ten year. old.
    I passed the beautiful little turtle on to many friends who for various reasons were having trouble becoming pregnant/staying pregnant: my sister in law who’d had multiple miscarriages, a friend who’d had her tubes “untied” etc. I would send the turtle to you except I think that it is framed under glass in a fertility neclace (it had done it’s magic again).
    I can’t guarantee anything and I don’t usually give “woo woo” advice but I have seen this “medicine” work. Pregnancy is such a spiritual journey; sometimes we need help from that plain.
    All the best to you,
    Cali P.S. I hear that holding babies is great fertility medicine as well!

  48. Julia
    Posted March 4, 2006 at 12:15 pm | Permalink

    Dearest Andrea, Maybe misery doesn’t really love company at all…Maybe when we are unhappy we simply aren’t needing or wanting to put on the fake smiles and sweet demeanor and act as if we are happy for someone who already has what we want so desperately. And you know what? That’s ok. You don’t need to feel as if you have to be so very gracious all the time. You are human. Your losses and your trials and struggles are your own, and nobody can truly feel as YOU do inside. Some of us can relate…(I had several miscarriages before giving birth at the ripe old age of 37) but even still, I certainly can’t be so arrogant to “presume” that I know how YOU feel. So cry when you want to. Decline invitations if you don’t feel like socializing. Say “I’m just not up to it today.” Those who would be critical of you are not in your shoes, and certainly don’t seem to be taking your feelings into account. So please my dear and special girl, celebrate your miseries and your joys. Be who YOU are. Blessings and prayers from me to you, that what you desire comes to pass. Take care of you. ?

  49. Posted March 4, 2006 at 1:38 pm | Permalink

    I’m right there in that waiting room with you. Thanks again for your honesty and openness. I can’t tell you how much it helps.

  50. Posted March 4, 2006 at 5:09 pm | Permalink

    I am very surprised to find myself so moved by your post, as I have no desire to have children at all. But I think that speaks to the power of your writing. I wanted to say, from a completely different place and perspective, that speaking up is not bad and should not feel as if you are raining on anyone. If not to help you through the rough times, then what are loved ones for? And if you never speak up, maybe you will never find comfort, never relate to someone, never find reciprocation? And also, this post makes me want to ask if you’ve ever considered adoption. I certainly don’t ask that question in a skeptical or reproachful manner. I ask because I wonder if you think an adopted child might help your wants and maybe you could love that child as much as your own. If you’re comfortable, I would love to know…

  51. Jessamyn
    Posted March 5, 2006 at 2:18 pm | Permalink

    Oh, Andrea – I just wanted to pass on more love and good wishes, and tell you that even though we don’t know each other in person, I think you are wonderful and amazing (and I wish I *did* know you). And I know for sure that the world is a better place because you’re in it.

  52. Meredith
    Posted March 5, 2006 at 5:56 pm | Permalink

    Andrea, go check out this post “We, the infertile” – http://www.jennsjournal.net/archives/2006/02/we_the_infertil.php
    I see that several people have already pointed you to Julie’s blog at A Little Pregnant – she’s got a link to a whole list of other blogs on one of the sidebars.
    There are so many people out there going through this. You are not alone.

  53. Posted March 5, 2006 at 7:39 pm | Permalink

    I always read your journal for inspiration and as a pick me up, but I have to say that it was nice to see another side of you. It was even more comforting to read that even superheros have bad, doubtful days. Thank you for being real and honest.

  54. Laura
    Posted March 6, 2006 at 6:39 am | Permalink


  55. Posted March 6, 2006 at 9:54 am | Permalink

    I feel your pain I’ve lived through it and just like you I choose not to go thru it alone. There are so many women going thru the emotional rollercoaster that is infertilty, and just wanted you to know that I am here to listen to talk to be your company when misery hits.
    I know the infertilty scar too well. The probing the feeling of not having what it seems everyone else has, the depression , the guilt for not being happy when a friend gets a positive test.
    I had support in my husband but he didn’t know the pain, the toll it takes on us woman, I turned to the internet and found a group of women who I LOVE they are amazing each with a story to tell and all in search of one thing life, http://www.theob.net and of course as previous posters have mentioned http://www.alittlepregnant.com.
    Although I am no longer an infertile as I have a baby boy who was concieved thru IVF, I wanted to let you know you aren’t alone and these feelings are normal.
    Positive Thinking Superhero,

  56. sand
    Posted March 6, 2006 at 4:30 pm | Permalink

    Dear Andrea,
    I read your website a great deal and you strike me as being a really lovely person. I havn’t written about my experience a lot but felt on this occasion i would do so. I recently went through a pretty horrrible miscarage,(thankfully with my wonderful husband’s support). I had never thought I ‘felt maternal’ I never felt I ‘wanted children’ that, on becoming pregnant so easily I was really shocked and frightened (that losing control feeling is SO strange) when I lost the baby recently I felt very guilty about having taking the whole thing so lightly. It made me realise what a blessing children are, how scary the whole step is and how strong a person can be when tested. Who know what the future holds for us, or for you? It sometimes takes a period of great sadness to make the good times seem so sweet! I wish you much happiness.