Just relax! Grrr....

I had a horrible night last night. It was the last maternal theory class (the one for which I presented that infertility seminar). At the end, everyone left except me and one other woman (who has 2 boys). She proceeded to give me her 'advice' (keeping in mind that I stated EXPLICITLY in my seminar that I wanted no advice, especially not of the 'just relax' variety).

The advice?: "You need to relax and not make it the centre of your life."

I laid the smackdown, which was unusual for me because I'm a very nonconfrontational person. I said, "Please do not tell me or any other infertile woman to relax. That's really the worst thing you could say." She kept saying that I need to relax, and I replied firmly each time that relaxing has little (if anything) to do with it because I have an undiagnosed medical condition. I said, "It's like telling a lame person to just relax and stand up; then he/she will be able to walk. No. It just doesn't work that way."

I also explained that having a baby is not the centre of my life; if it were, I wouldn't have sold my house and interrupted my treatments for a year in order to do my master's degree. Nor would I put off treatment for another 2 months in order to go to China.

And I said: You can't really blame people who do put it at the centre of their lives, considering how much emotional and physical effort go into it, as well as mega-dollars (especially American women). I said, "If you over-extended yourself on a mortgage, for example, wouldn't you be worried about it? How would you feel if someone told you to just relax? No, you wouldn't like it. The mortgage is a reality that has to be dealt with. It won't resolve itself."

Although she understood that, then, she still told me to enjoy my freedom. I referred her to Adrienne Rich, who said the same thing in her book Of Woman Born, and I reminded her that in my seminar I'd said how offensive that statement is to an involuntarily childless woman, who doesn't feel free because she didn't get to choose. She replied: "But you can do anything you want. After you have children, that all changes: your time, your sexuality, your body, your marital relationship, everything. You don't know what it's like. I have several friends who are childless. They have rich lives. You could, too, if you wanted."

I was so flabbergasted, I didn't know what to say. As though I'm unaware that everything in my life would change with the arrival of a child. And as though I don't have a rich life now? Whatever! She gave me an odd look and said, "No, I don't suppose you understand what I'm saying. I've been in both places: first childless, then a mother. And I'm saying that you should enjoy your freedom."

I said, "I am not in your position, but I do know something about children. I am a teacher and an aunt, and that means something. No, I don't know the extent to which things will change if I have kids. But I do know and accept that my life will be very different, and that I won't be able to be self-absorbed anymore. I am not under many illusions about motherhood. And furthermore, you have not been in my position, because you got to choose to have children. I did not get that choice. So I may not understand fully what you're saying, but you also don't have a clue about what I'm saying. Please don't say that you know how I feel, because you don't."

That took her by surprise, but she thought about it for a bit. Then she tried again to tell me how hard motherhood is, and that I have no idea. That I wouldn't idealize motherhood if I knew how much it would change my life.

I said, "I am not idealizing motherhood. I am conflicted about it, actually, because I do really want a child, yet at the same time, I don't. I DO enjoy my freedoms: sleeping in, travelling, going to see a movie, worrying just about myself, being able to talk to my dh. No diapers, no crying kids, a clean house. I can wear a silk dress whenever I feel like it, and I can do my makeup every morning. I often feel glad that I don't have kids because I can get more done - e.g., my career. Yet I still want a child. I'm under few illusions about motherhood. In my opinion, the majority of it for me would probably be hard and crappy. I'm afraid of the very real possibility of postpartum depression, for instance. I'm afraid that being a SAHM would drive me nuts. I am also shallow: I'm afraid of losing my figure. But I still want a baby. What it comes down to is that you got to choose, and I didn't. Plus, on top of that, my infertility is a constant reminder of my medical condition (PCOS). I can't just relax and forget about it."

I wouldn't let it drop until I saw that she was starting to understand how hurtful the words 'just relax' are.

Now I'm panicking about (potential) motherhood. Why do so many women/mothers try to talk infertile women out of it? Does motherhood suck that much? And if so, why did these women have kids in the first place? If motherhood is so bad, why didn't they stop at one kid? Am I going to resent being a mother, like she implied? What if she's right and I'm wrong?

On top of all that, my advisor wants me to think about turning my infertility seminar/paper into my thesis. I don't know if I can do that. I don't know if I can put it out into such a public forum, with thesis advisors, a reading committee, etc. My thesis defence would be public, open to everybody to attend. I'll hear so much more unwanted 'advice.' And yet I don't want to turn people off of asking me questions about my work.

As well, what if my family and friends found out about my infertility through coming across my thesis? If anyone googled my name, the title of my thesis would come up.

I just don't know about all of this...