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I read recently on someone’s blog that one of the most common signs of blogger burnout is when you are no longer compelled to automatically post the first thought that comes out of your head, or I suppose, when something important is happening in your ‘real’ life and instead of your past urge to jot it down and eventually share it with the world, you hesitate, perhaps mull it over for a couple of days and then decide that perhaps it wouldn’t be such a great idea.
With the amount of critical comments that people get on their personal online journals, I can certainly understand this. On one hand blogs are great to gather other’s perspectives about a situation that you are trying to come to terms with but on the other hand, sometimes divulging personal information in the spirit of building a community can leave you vulnerable to unwarranted attacks.
With this entry to the A Letter to my Body project I wanted to continue the celebration of the writings of women who have been courageous enough to blog about their struggles with infertility. Kudos to Melissa who writes extensively about infertility and who was gracious enough to pass on some incredible posts that have been written by readers in the past week, not knowing how personally relevant they would be to me - simply just being the next CE scheduled who agreed to participate in this series.
In the last few months I have been forcing myself to troll blogs for first person accounts about Fibroids and medical treatments to avoid getting a hysterectomy,(unfortunately) a common procedure for those of us who suffer from the unusually harmless, benign tumours. I have found some information, none that is particularly relevant in terms of treatment as I have a pretty severe case and do not qualify for a number of the medical treatments suggested.
Admittedly, I have been avoiding infertility blogs that discuss the emotional repercussions about how this problem makes one feel, or how it is supposed to make one feel . I have always felt a bit resentful at the lack of empathy a single lower-income WOC with little money who still wants children but can’t, gets, even though the common stereotype is that we breed like bunnies – out of wedlock and dependent of social assistance, that is.
Perhaps I never really will conjure of the strength to write a rant about that and today, feeling physically and emotionally exhausted as I write this, I will not go into a personal account of how I really feel – which to make a very long story very short is a big healthy dose of denial, intermingled with an ounce of dread. And a touch of anger, if you haven’t noticed!
While this post wasn’t written for the Letter to my Body project, I thought it was worth noting. I really couldn’t find a lot of blogs by women of color who wrote about infertility issues but I did come across this great post by Ankia who offers a book review on a novel in which the main character is pregnant and offers a tidbit of her own experience:
Infertility among black women is a secret plague. Even though there’s some research indicating that our infertility rates are rising, you’d never think so if you looked at popular culture. The story is that we get pregnant quickly — even, or especially, when we’re not ready — and we have lots of kids. Anecdotally, I know far more black women who’ve become pregnant unexpectedly than I know women who have had trouble trying to conceive.
I’m not terribly vocal about my own infertility. Part of that is because on the rare occasions when I have opened up about the continuing battle Mr. WriteBlack and I are fighting to conceive, people respond poorly (here’s a list of things you should and shouldn’t say to women who are trying to conceive and a list of myths about infertility).
There are a number bloggers who are stronger than I who confess the emotional and physical symptoms that coincide with the medical problems that lead to infertility, problems that I swear, women are socialized never to discuss outside. And despite my ever-growing cynicism, do provide a sense of community with those who might not have anyone to talk to outside of their laptops. So hooray for those bloggers, such as Kristania at My Uterus Hates Me who as a young married woman,
