Moving Past Infertility

Dear Chelsea,

My husband, "John," is a loving, caring, wonderful man. He is usually hyper-sensitive to taking good care of me. Over the last many years we have been struggling with infertility, and about two years ago John was diagnosed with the causal issue for it. We were told that even with intense medical assistance, it would be nearly impossible for us to have biological children. At that point I had already been through years of very painful, invasive treatments as well as four miscarriages. Given that the odds of us having a biological child even if we continued with these treatments were almost zero, I decided to stop any treatments. It was hard to come to terms with, but I did.

My husband, however, has told me that since I have had a year or two to rest, I should be ready to try again. I told him that it was not a matter of rest, but that this is my final decision—I really made a good faith effort, you can't ask for more from a person, it did not work out, and I am never doing that to my life or my body again.

He just can't understand, maybe because he did not go through the physical process. He thinks I should just suck it up and keep trying. This is so uncharacteristic of him! I know the stakes are high—having a child is a life-changing event—and in some ways it is unfair for me to make this decision for both of us, but I have. I am not doing this anymore. What can I do to make him understand? (This is separate from the issue of whether or not we will adopt maybe someday. This is just the issue of whether or not we will continue with infertility treatments.)

Dear Reader,

I've been mulling your question over for so long, trying to come up with what you say to a person in this situation. I've come to the conclusion that, as with many emotionally traumatic events, there's not much to say. You must listen to him process through his feelings while keeping firm with your decision. I agree with you on that; it's your body and you made a very good faith effort. And before I continue, I would like to say that I am so sorry that it didn't work out the way that you had hoped. You have both been through so much.

The biggest thing to remember is that John's reaction isn't about you; it's about him. He's trying to make it about you, by saying that it's your job to try again now, but you will have to see through that. Right now I think John is probably feeling powerless and his sense of himself as a man has been severely undermined. So, in order to regain a sense of control and normalcy, he is trying to control you and assert himself.

He feels powerless because he doesn't have the power to make a baby. For all that you went through with the treatments and miscarriages, you also had the experience of being in the driver's seat, or as close as you can get with these things. As you said, you understand on a physical level the enormity of it all, whereas he had to watch from the sidelines. It is important not to belittle the difficulty of that. It is a different sort of difficulty than you had, but imagine how monumentally hard it was for him to watch the person he loves the most in the world go through all that you went through. I suspect that the scarring from that pain is helping drive his response; you want to leave that pain behind and I think he wants to fix it and make it have been worth something. I also think he might be having the feeling of wanting to do it himself, as in "if you want something done right, do it yourself" ... except that of course he can't get pregnant, so he wants you to try again so that he can try again too.

And then there is his sense of himself as a man. Most men are socialized to be sexual, get a wife, have children, carry on the family bloodline and name. Now he has been told that he is literally impotent. I can't imagine what it's like to have to wrap your head around that. Have you talked with him about this? How has it impacted his sense of identity? As a way of defending his sense of self, I wonder whether he secretly thinks that because you were able to get pregnant four times that the problem is secretly yours, and that if you just do something different next time, there will be a baby. He might also feel like he has failed you as a man by not being able to give you children, and so he is thinking that another try will mean a chance he hasn't failed you.

Needless to say, these out-of-character reactions are about his own reactions to his own pain. He doesn't want to come to terms with it, so he's trying to get you to try again so he doesn't have to. It's not necessarily rational, but matters of the heart seldom are.

Both your worlds have been rocked by this. It might be good to seek out infertility resources—I found this article about men and infertility from the National Infertility Association helpful. You should also consider visiting a therapist who is experienced in dealing with fertility issues so that you can work through this together without fighting and to gain the perspective of an outside party. It's a long row ahead, and as you said, it's separate from the issue of whether you will adopt a child someday. As for what your journey means thus far... I think that you had to try: It was worth it that you tried. Now it is time to put your energies into healing. My luck and good thoughts to you.

Disappointed Sister

Dear Chelsea,

My youngest sister (let’s call her Jamie) is in her early 20s, which is more than a decade younger than me. She has a 2-year-old daughter (let’s call her Rose). Jamie is a single mom, living with my mother and my other sister. Rose’s father is no longer in the picture. They tried to work it out at the beginning, but for reasons unknown to me (though I have a general idea), they cut ties. As far as I know, there is no visitation or child support.

Jamie is a mother when it’s convenient for her. She completely takes advantage of our mom and other sister. I know that they are enablers of this behavior. Jamie is always on her phone, she sleeps in, parties, drinks (and I highly suspect she uses drugs). My mom and other sister do just about everything for Rose (feeding, bathing, getting up and putting to bed, playing, doctor visits, etc). Jamie participates when she wants to. Jamie expects our mom and other sister to watch Rose whenever she wants them to. A few months ago, my mom and my other sister had to go out of town for two weeks. Instead of being present and stepping up to the plate with Rose, Jamie scheduled a breast enhancement and dropped Rose off with a close family friend for a week. During this time, Jamie did not even call to check on and talk to Rose. Aside from spending money that would have been better spent on Rose, Jamie didn’t even speak to her daughter for a week! (because she knew she was being well taken care of).

Jamie also has numerous, visible, poorly done tattoos. I don’t judge people for having tattoos, as I have some myself, but I do judge people who have bad tattoos. In addition to the tattoos, Jamie does lip injections, making her lips look like something that would be on a blow-up doll, or a porn star.

I don’t know what went wrong with Jamie. She used to be pretty. She was very intelligent. Her body modifications indicate low self-esteem. Her lack of parenting indicates immaturity. Since I live across the country from her and the rest of my family, I haven’t seen Jamie in 4 years. My husband and I had to travel there unexpectedly this summer and got to visit with my mom, my other sister, and Rose. Jamie couldn’t be bothered to drop by for just a moment, much less reply to any phone calls or texts I sent.

I need help in coming to terms with my disappointment with Jamie. I don’t feel that I can talk to her about this because I think she’ll view it as an attack. I just don’t know how to reconcile who Jamie used to be with who Jamie is now. Can you help?

Sincerely,

Disappointed Sister

Dear Disappointed Sister,

I think you will be able to come to terms with your disappointment in Jamie if you try to exchange some of your judgment of her for empathy. You've depicted Jamie as an immature, fiscally irresponsible freeloader who's getting other people to raise her child while she parties and makes questionable alterations to her appearance. I can understand why you'd be disappointed in that.

I would like to offer a softer interpretation of the story.

• The immaturity I can't disagree with, but she is still so young. A lot of 22-year-olds run around partying and still live with their parents. Rose complicates matters, but in spite of Jamie's parenting deficiencies, isn't Rose still growing up in a caring environment? Of course you would make different decisions if you were in her shoes, but you have more than a decade of life experience than she does, and that does make a difference. 
• Jamie is an adult and gets to make her own choices about her body. You don't have to agree with her taste in tattoos or her lip injections, but don't assume they have anything to do with her self-esteem. If she reformed her behavior tomorrow she'd still have the tattoos but you wouldn't be so disappointed, would you? I think the appearance issues are piggybacking on your primary issue with how she parents Rose. 
• Likewise, your mother and your other sister are also adults who make their own decisions. As you noted, their enabling behavior supports the environment where Jamie can offload her parental responsibilities. Perhaps your disappointment in Jamie will abate somewhat if you regard the family as a system of equals rather than seeing Jamie as the ringleader. 

I also have a question for you, and perhaps I am off-base here, but is part of you envious of Jamie? That she has access to endless free babysitting, that she can spend money on herself, that she can go out and have fun whenever she wants, whereas you live far away from your family's help and have to work hard to provide for yourself? I'm not suggesting that you want to be like her, but I can see how that disparity and unfairness would make you angry.

However, we are all on our own paths. We make our own choices and have our own triumphs and failures. You've talked a lot about how Jamie used to be pretty and intelligent and now she seems anything but, but Jamie is still the same person inside. What are her good qualities? Surely she must still have some. If you can't think of any, maybe that is because you haven't really gotten to know her as an adult.

You may not have confronted Jamie about your disappointment, but I am certain that she knows already. This is probably why she avoided you this summer when you came to visit, because she didn't want to be around someone who was going to judge her. So if you do want to be in her life, I encourage you to try to let go of the judgment and find a way to accept her for who she is, even though you don't agree with every choice she makes. And if you don't want to be in her life, then you have to let go of the judgment and let her make her own choices in peace or else your feelings will eat away at you and make you miserable.

I do think there is hope for her to become more mature and responsible. Time alone may do it, but you may also help. The things is, people have a way of rubbing off on those around them when they participate in their lives in meaningful ways. If you go into Jamie's life feeling as you do now, your disappointment and other negative judgments will sour your relationship. But if you can find a way to practice acceptance and appreciation of what there is to appreciate, that creates fertile ground that your values of parental responsibility may find a place to grow as well.

The Continual Accumulation of Moments

Dear Chelsea,

How do you figure out if your significant other is the "right one"? I've been dating a really great guy for six months now. We share the same faith and I know (because he has made it clear) that he's in it for the long haul. Amidst this, I've been trying to figure out my feelings for him. I'm not sure how to really figure this out—I definitely have strong feelings for him, but I'm nervous. The prospect of "the future" or marriage seems quite far away.

In conversations I've had with my mom, she tells me that she "just knew" when she met the right one, but I haven't had that moment, I don't think. She's also reminded me that our family backgrounds are pretty different—I grew up in a pretty well-to-do family, went to prep/private schools, etc., whereas he grew up in the military and more middle class. I don't know whether that matters.

I know I need (and fully plan) to have more conversations with my boyfriend about "the future" and all that jazz, but in the meantime, what do you think?


Dear Reader,

I'm thinking about time.

The first time I'm thinking of is six months, which as you well know is not very long to date someone. Give yourself more time to understand where you're going.

The second time I'm thinking of is the past. Have you been at the crossroads of a big decision before? How did you know which path to take? I ask because I think some people are prone to "just knowing"—having that intuitive leap you can't quite explain—and others know because the accumulated evidence demonstrates to them the best choice to make. Since you're in a place where you don't know, that means there isn't enough information to make a leap or to draw a plotted course. So the solution is more information, which takes time, and the certainty will likely manifest itself in a way congruent to your previous experiences.

The third time I'm thinking of is childhood. Differences in family backgrounds are important insofar as they influence our values, and successful relationships are usually founded on shared values. To a degree, people raised in similar circumstances share similar values; however, if I learned anything in statistics class it's to never extrapolate generalities to an individual case! What is important to discern is the degree to which your values and your partner's values align, especially on the things that are most important to you. Be thorough in this examination, especially given that your backgrounds are different, because you may not otherwise think to discuss or question many internalized-as-given long-held values. For example, what do you believe about how the world works, how relationships work, what is important, how people are supposed to behave and be treated, how much you should work for versus be given?

The fourth time I am thinking of is the present: This is where you do the work. Invest as much energy as you can into understanding your own values and then in living them. Encourage your partner to do the same. Resist the temptation to be the person you think your partner wants you to be or the person you think you want to be for your partner. Just be yourself. Because life is just a continual accumulation of moments . . . you can walk all day and never reach the horizon. And in each moment, you're either happy or you're not; you're either moving toward happiness or away. Over time, the course of things will reveal itself and you will know.

The last time I am thinking of is the future. Everyone changes—you, me, your partner, everyone. There's no predicting how, or when (except to say that you can't change other people; they only change for themselves). When it comes to long-term commitment, what you want is someone who is as committed as you are to doing the present-work of understanding themselves and aligning themselves with you as you pass through each moment. Then, after enough moments have passed, you will know whether you want another hundred thousand moments more.

The Oxygen Mask

Dear Chelsea, 

How do you support a depressed partner? How can I support myself when I am losing the support I would normally get from my husband? We thought it was just exhaustion from the new baby, but as the dust finally settles it's looking like it's more than that. 

I feel terrible that I didn't recognize it earlier (I think it's been going on almost a year now), but the needs of the kids have kind of dwarfed everything. We don't have any family nearby and our friends also all have small children. Although we have a good community, there's no one who can really step in to help out more. And really what I need is my husband back, someone to laugh with and cry with. He's still a wonderful father and husband, but I can see he's just going through the motions so much of the time. He's looking into starting talk therapy but is understandably reluctant, the same with taking any medication. 

I just don't know how to support him emotionally when at the end of the day I'm pretty wrung out from caring for the baby and an emotionally high-needs older child as well. As it is, we just play on our phones and go to bed early. It's not enough.

***

Dear Reader,

Here is what I keep coming back to: You know how airplane safety guidelines state that if there is a loss of cabin pressure, you are supposed to put on your own oxygen mask before helping others? I think this an oxygen mask moment. Because you can't support others for very long if you can't breathe.

So, before we get to how to support a depressed partner, put on your own oxygen mask.

First, try to let go of the guilt you feel for not recognizing your husband's depression earlier. You did the best you could in the circumstances you were in, right? And even if you think you could have done better, you don't have a time machine to go back and fix it.

In addition, please hire a babysitter to help you with childcare on as regular a basis as possible, not just as a treat. In the absence of family and friends who will work for free, you hire someone. Make it a priority because your sanity is a priority.  And instead of going on a pricey date night, I suggest that you treat yourselves to a stay-cation by sending the kids to the park or the playroom while you and your husband sleep in and veg out on a weekend morning. (Trading babysitting with your other friends with kids could be an option too.)

You also need to find other sources of support for yourself in addition to your husband, since the depression means he can't do as much for you as he would like right now. Schedule a friend-date, either in person or on the phone. In the evenings, spend time on something more fulfilling than your phone. For example, you could pick out a new book at the library to read. You could get an adult coloring book. You could make a "TV show club" with your husband (or friends) where you watch a show together and then discuss. You could cook or bake for fun. Whatever you choose, after it's over you should be able to say, yes, I feel better for having done that. I doubt you can say that about your phone.

I have spent so long emphasizing self-care because supporting a depressed partner takes patience and empathy. For the most part, it just means being there, without judgment. It means accepting the validity of how he feels and the constraints that that puts on what he is able to do right now. Things will get better, but it will take time. Taking care of yourself will give you more fuel to guard against impatience and resentment at him not being how he usually is.

As for your husband's reluctance to seek treatment, discuss this with him: Imagine yourself in a happy future, looking back to now to say, "I'm so glad you never got any treatment when you were depressed. We thought something was maybe wrong but it was the right choice to suffer through without any help."

Does that make the idea of being "understandably reluctant" seem a little less understandable? Please do your best to put the reluctance aside and reach out for professional assistance. Friends and hobbies would help your husband too, but he may not be ready to pursue them until he's farther down the road.

I also suggest that you institute a family walk. Exercise and fresh air are good for the body and the mind. If it is hard for your husband to talk face-to-face with you or a therapist, talking side-by-side while enjoying the outdoors may help him.

Also try to get more sun (such as during the walk), which may be at a low since it's winter and most of us work indoors. For example, this study recently found results for remission from depression (not just seasonal affective disorder) from 30 minutes a day of light therapy, with the greatest response from light therapy in combination with medication.

This is a long road to travel. Many small supports can buoy you up. Please both of you be kind to yourselves in the days ahead. 

The Fear of Drowning

Dear Chelsea,

My father is currently residing in a nursing home and will probably live out the remainder of his life there. Before we moved him there, my mother and I, along with my siblings, found out some really bad information about my father. Not only did he put my mother into thousands upon thousands of dollars of debt, but we found out he is a compulsive liar and has been accused of sexual abuse (no authorities were ever notified). Without going into intricate details, I found out about the sexual abuse from several family members. These family members do not interact with each other and have never met. It's not like they got together to collaborate on stories.

I have my own troubled past with him (not sexual abuse related), and I have absolutely no desire to visit him, talk with him, or interact with him. I have only done so because of my mom. I don't think my mom knows the severity of these accusations ... to be honest, I don't think she understands what it means, and may even possibly be in denial about it. She keeps pushing me to forgive my father for his monetary indiscretions and wants me to interact with him more, despite the fact that I grew up with physical and mental abuse from him.

I think she feels guilty that he's in the nursing home, even though none of us can take care of him because of his medical issues. My son has only met him a handful of times, and he's never been alone with him. He'll never be alone with him.

I don't know how to handle this without pushing my mom away, who I love with every fiber of my being. Telling her the truth about why I feel so angry/hurt/upset will cause a huge fight within my family, and I don't think I can handle everything crumbling around me.

Do I just fulfill my daughterly obligation and have limited contact until he's gone? Please help!


Dear Reader,

There are so many ways this might turn out---more, I think, than just the two you offered of submitting to daughterly obligation or sticking to your guns at the price of sacrificing your good relationship with your mother.

No matter what path you choose, I do not think you should attempt to educate your mother as to the true scope of your father's transgressions. Right now she knows a more tempered version of the truth---and it would appear that she is rationalizing, denying, or having trouble apprehending even that limited knowledge. Imagine you tell her everything---what do you realistically think she would do? In addition to the huge fight that might ensue, knowing more might entrench her further in her current viewpoint, leaving you even further from your desired outcome. Her identity is wrapped up in your father and you, and the drive for her to preserve a sense of intact family I am sure is very strong.

The problem you described sounds like a boundaries problem to me.

Your mother is overstepping her boundaries by pressuring you to forgive your father and include him in your life. She may not know everything about what has happened, but it sounds like she knows more than enough to understand why you feel the way you do. She just thinks that she is more right than you are about what you should do with the information you know.

And I think maybe you are not enforcing your own boundaries enough. Do you think you are taking on responsibility for meeting her needs? Do you fear that if you "fulfill your daughterly obligations," they will increase? Give your mother an inch and she'll abdicate her crown to make you the ruler of her own guilt and unhappiness? That if you increase how often you see your father to appease her now, she will only then decide that she wants more from you later?

It's the fear of drowning.

Instead, you need to carefully examine what you can bear and stick to that. Can you bear visiting your father for the sake of your mother, or not? Could you go visit him together with your mother and look at it as accompanying her and supporting her, rather than as visiting your father for yourself? How often? Once a month? Four times a year? Major holidays and birthdays? Never again? Ironing out clear expectations for how you will interact (or not) with your father going forward is key to ensuring that you feel like you are standing on stable ground and not quicksand.

When you tell her what you've decided on, be calm and offer minimal explanation. If you let her engage you on the finer details, she will attempt to dismantle your argument piece by piece. It is enough to say something like "Dad really hurt me and I am not comfortable visiting him in the nursing home [or comfortable visiting only under these circumstances]. Please respect my right to make the choice that is right for me." When she inevitably brings up the subject again, reiterate your position and change the topic. Don't submit to a dismantling unless you think you might change your mind. Otherwise you are just leading her on, not helping her.

The other part of drawing the boundary for yourself is acknowledging that on the other side of the line your mother gets to make her own decisions about how she feels about your father and how she interacts with him. You'll have to respect that she has chosen forgiveness, or denial, or some combination of the two, as the general way in which she wants to regard your father at this stage of life. Stop trying to fight that fight for her, or being angry on her behalf.

Although without knowing the details it's hard to say for sure, in a way his being in the nursing home is sort of like him being in jail---his chance to perpetuate harm on society is greatly reduced. I can see how that would mitigate the pain he's caused in your mother's eyes---whereas for you, perhaps it means that you are finally free of him. I can understand why you wouldn't want to ever go back.

If your mother is always pushing for you to do more, whatever boundary you choose to enforce---even if it is relatively generous---will probably upset her, because she is not used to having a fence in her yard. So you will have to find other ways to support her. I am certain these ways exist. Listen to her talk. Encourage her to pursue her interests so that you have more to talk about than just your family. Help her find other ways to enrich your dad's life. Does he have other friends who would visit? Perhaps he would enjoy a pet therapist?

And if she rails against you and says mean things about how much you have hurt her, let her feel that way for as long as she needs to, but don't engage it. Her words are her story, and they are about her feelings, not you. If you can keep calm amid them, eventually it will all cool off.

I have this vision of you, exuding love, and the love wears down the adversity with time. I am certain your mother loves you very much, and if you stay strong and firm and kind, she will find a way to live with a new reality, as you will too.

The Beginning

Hello, friends, and welcome.

When I was a little girl I made a list of potential professions for when I grew up. That list included writer, dancer, hair dresser, and advice columnist.

Here's the current standings on how that turned out: I write and edit for a living, I swing dance passionately as a hobby, and several friends have put their locks at the mercy of my scissors and gone out the next day without bags over their heads ... but still no advice columnist job has materialized.

I waited, and wanted it, and alternately considered it a terrible idea and a great idea I was just afraid to go for. (Sometimes it is tough to tell the difference.)

So, why keep waiting. Here is my advice blog. There aren't any posts yet, because it's just started and you haven't written me yet.

You can write me about anything you like, but I recommend that you ask about relationships. Friends and family, loved ones and loathed ones, the people who you need to deal with better and you just can't quite figure out what to do. Or write me about yourself, and tell me about your journey on which maybe you are lost or wandering, and maybe I can help you figure out where to go next.

Many advice columnists will tell you how they lack any professional credentials, but I won't, because I actually have some. I have degrees in psychology in counseling, but strangely enough I don't think they necessarily count for much when it comes to advice-giving. Many people have degrees in these subjects and you certainly wouldn't ask their opinion on what to have for dinner, let alone your life.

What should matter to you is that I pay attention, and I try hard to understand how people work, and I will do my best to help you.

I can't promise I will always be right, or that you will necessarily even want to take my advice, but I can promise that I will do my best, and I hope that you will allow your story to be shared.

You can reach me at heliotropeinspring@gmail.com