I know I'm not alone when
I thank the great minds that have allowed us to virtually connect with one another. I know many talk about "the good old days" but I can't imagine having to cope with infertility, which already drowns us in public silence, and not be able to share our fears and joys with a community of women/men who truly understand what we're going through.
Some of us connect in anonymity, via blogs, Twitter and even take that leap to become friends in real life. But the one virtual connector that seems to always come up in conversation is Facebook -- and not in a good way. Most of us are on it, willingly or by peer-pressure. The idea of reconnecting with long lost friends was certainly the appeal for me. But once infertility barged into my seemingly pleasant life, I started avoiding FB like the plague (although the sadistic side of me managed to drag me back to it too many times). Filled with pregnancy announcements, ultrasound pictures, and the latest "Oh Jr. just said the cutest thing today!" I cursed its dubious inventor.
What enraged me most was being surrounded by people who were over-sharing the lamest details of their lives, while I, who was actually experiencing something real, could not complete the "What's on your mind?" box honestly. I knew that if I did, it would either lead my so-called friends to stage an intervention or wonder if I had Tourettes. During those day, you had the option to "Dislike" something (W
hy did that ever go away?) and my little arrow had brushed over it many times. I knew I would probably get chastised for "disliking" an ultrasound picture, so instead, I would get online and within minutes have the support of countless people about the evils of Facebook.
Facebook seems to know so much about us and the various life stages we're experiencing -- "Boost your fertility in 60 seconds," "Go back to school mommies," "The best new sex-toys" (
Not that I ever saw that one!) -- and yet, it's incapable of shielding us from the types of updates that would make us want to throw something at our beloved computers.
For all the filtering and customizing available, why can't we have a "Hide" button for that kind of news? And I don't know about you, but it seemed that other peoples' "baby news" always came at the worst possible time -- a "Sorry, not pregnant again. You looser" day, a "This cycle isn't going to work" mood day or a "My husband hates my guts for forcing him to have sex with me today" day.
I don't have hundreds of friends -- I never understand people who "friend" someone they've just met -- so during my pregnancy and my son's first year, I tried to stay away from anything that might hurt those I knew were coping with IF. Today, they are all either pregnant, expecting or parents. But every time I do post something, I take a second to remember how lucky I am that I can go on Facebook and not completely regret it.
UPDATE: Is the
Washington Post reading my blog? I think so. I'm flattered, really.
