Monday, November 5, 2012

Facebook


I've been wanting to write about this very thing for a while; about how hard Facebook has the potential to be if you are on the outside looking in. The ultrasounds and baby photos subbing as profile pictures, the "offers" to sell naughty children, cute birthday/Halloween/Christmas/Thanksgiving stories, announcements about potty training successes, first teeth, and new pregnancies...

Facebook is rife with childcentric information.

And there's absolutely no reason why it shouldn't be. None whatsoever.

But because it is, it can be a dangerous place for someone trying to navigate the bloody waters of infertility and loss. And it can be torture for someone for whom all those lovely baby things will never be a reality.

The interesting thing is that we generally stay very quiet about all this. So much so that it likely never occurs to anyone but us that it might be painful. The landmines are invisible unless you see them as such. We are blown to smithereens every day by things others look at with wonder and joy.

That's just the way it is.

It's the way it has to be, in fact, because the world can't (and shouldn't) stop merely because we are sad. There is no reason our sorrow should trump another's joy.

We, as a group, generally concentrate our efforts on making sure other people don't feel uncomfortable. The last thing we tend to do is point out our own discomfort. We might be broken, humiliated, and desperate - but we are usually silent.

And I'm not sure what I think about this phenomenon anymore, this strange code of silence.

I don't want to be the person who rains on everyone's parade, reminding people with my sad looks and pitiful sighs that I envy what they have. I don't want to be the needy girl from whom people flee in horror. And I certainly don't want to end up being a one-trick pony who can't talk about anything but the life she wishes she'd been able to have.

But sometimes I do crave a certain level of acknowledgment - a little something that lets me know you would smother my pain with a pillow if you had one big enough, or strangle cruel fate with your bare hands for denying me my joy. I am desperately struggling to co-exist in this fertile world, and that pain I feel is real. This life is hard - harder than I ever dreamed - and I'm not always okay. I probably look it most of the time - maybe all the time - but I am stuck together with tape, staples and prayers. And chocolate and wine.

I'm not looking for pity. I can't stress that enough. I think what we all want so much is simply for people to remember that we're here too.

2 comments:

  1. I have often thought how hard it must be for you to spend time taking those wonderful pictures of children in all their glory and innocence. You seem so happy to post them for parents and your 'work is so wonderful. Now that I read this post, I see that you strive to be happy for others but don't necessarily want to hide your feelings. I see you as a strong person who tries not to impose your pain on others while looking to share and record their happiness. Thank you for this blog - it gives me insight to be a better person to others.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. While I'm not really sure who this is.. Thank you! I do try to be uplifting but I am human and fail sometimes. I truly believe that the attitude you give people is what you are going to get back, so instead of surrounding myself with negativity I choose to be positive. I am genuinely happy for all of my clients. I love each and every one of them and love capturing the special moments in their life. In retrospect that may ease the pain of not having my own child(ren) yet! I've learned to that you never know what another person is going through, everyone has their own trials, so I try to be mindful of that. You never know but your kind word, actions, or simply a smile could turn the world around for someone! Thank you for reading my blog!

      Delete