My husband has a friend who referred to 2013 as a -let's just say- a "something" of a year. You can imagine how vulgar the word he used is, if I, of all people, can't even bring myself to type it. Like every year, lots happened in 2013. I think we can all agree that amidst all of the events: People trying to recover from natural disasters, a royal baby being born, beloved celebrities passing away-- the one event which will stand out in the forefronts of all our minds when we look back at 2013 will be when professional figure skater Brian Boitano announced he is gay.
I said it. Now what's say we all just tip-toe away from it. The point is: Will this be the year you "come out"? Many of us who go through infertilty don't have enough to worry about with needles, tests, expenses and everything else inherent to the infertility rollercoaster. A whole lot of us also struggle with what to tell or not tell people.
"Do I tell them that I've been trying to get pregnant for a while?" "Do I tell them that I have tube issues?" "Do I tell them we haven't been able to do IVF because we're broke?" "Do I tell them there's a male factor?"
There are only two things to consider to determine what you're going to tell people:
1) What do you really want to tell people? and
2) Who the f are these people anyway?
For some crazy reason, we (that's us females) think we always owe people explanations. We don't. Screw 'em. And, sorry to say, mostly it is a "female" thing.
Could you imagine your husband or boyfriend, or whatever he is ever saying: "I feel bad I haven't said anything to Bob. We've been friends since third grade. He's always shared everything with me."? (If you can imagine those words coming out of his mouth, you may wonder if he has more in common with Brian Boitano than you thought.)
From my vast experience (I'm a woman of the world you know) a guy could know another guy for 20 years and all he knows about him is a vague idea of where he lives... or where he used to live. Some guys dealing with infertility really do want to talk to other guys going through it but most don't feel compelled to spill their guts to their poker buddies, or their neighbor, or the guy in the next cubicle.
So this notion of: "I really should explain why a) I haven't felt like hanging out b) I didn't want to get together for the holidays with all the aunts, uncles, and cousins c) I'd rather not go to that baby shower for that woman at work"... Bullshit. Guilt is for suckers.
For me, the list of aaaaallll the people I absolutely had to tell every aspect of my fertility journey to was a list of one: My husband. I figured that if he was decent enough to offer to father this future child, the least I could do was tell him everything. Besides, he attended all my appointments and I didn't have the heart to tell him to put his hands over his ears while the doctor was talking.
And that's it--- Nobody else is entitled to know anything. As you can tell, I'm a chatty sort. Yet going through infertility made me very monosyllabic.
"Are you coming to the baby shower?" "No" (I've answered. Now watch as I turn away and get smaller and smaller into the distance. You have a follow-up question? Sorry, I'm already too far away to hear you. I walk faster than you think.)
"Are you trying to have a baby?" "Yes" (I've answered. Now watch as I turn away and get smaller and smaller into the distance. If you squint, you can still see my hair blowing in the wind.)
"You've gone to a lot of doctor appointments recently. How's are you feeling?" "Fine" (Eat my dust.)
Oddly enough, at work, where you might not be that emotionally attached to anyone in particular, you may have to give up some info just so you don't get canned while rearranging your schedule if it clashes with your appointments.
But that's an exception not a rule. Sure people are nosy... call it "curious" if you're feeling charitable. So what? Everyone--close to you or an acquaintance, family member, parent, sister-- is entitled to well, nothing... or exactly what you want them to know and not another syllable. So put on some running pants, lace up those sneakers, limber up those muscles in anticipation of your next heartfelt discussion about your "situation".
(** My eBook: Laughing IS Conceivable: One Woman's Extremely Funny Peek into the Extremely Unfunny World of Infertility can be purchased for $2.99USD at the icon to the right, at http://licthebook.com or on Amazon /Amazon UK. It is also available FREE at the Kindle Library)