Getting used to uncomfortable

I was reading over at Hilary's yesterday and I had a light bulb moment. I'll start from the end and work back to this, so bear with me.

Like Hilary, I had an encounter with a doctor this week of the non-baby-making type. A dermatologist, to be exact. I have just about had it with this hormone-infused adult acne that has been plaguing me every since I took my first clom.id, and it only got worse it seems once I stopped injecting myself last spring. I feel like I have tried everything, so I sucked it up and booked this visit back at Thanksgiving. The cold, dry weather has, of course, done nothing to help matters and I was looking forward to meeting Dr. T and getting some answers.

I'll skip the mundane stuff about the visit--the best part was the look on her face when we were discussing "whether I was pregnant or trying to get pregnant" and I said, "No, I am not, but yes, I am, but really no, I can't." I then shared how we had spent years trying, we've tried infertility treatments and at this point we are not able to conceive, but we are thrilled to be adopting. She responded by saying well, ya know, once we adopt we'll get pregnant. I chuckled, she then said we'll still need to be careful what meds I try in case I get pregnant...here's where I cut her off. Calmly and with a half smile, I said, "While nothing is impossible I am sure, it has been virtually IMPOSSIBLE for me to conceive, I've never been pregnant and we failed 3 IVFs. My cycles are regular so I'll know if by chance a miracle happens and I'll let you know. Otherwise, just give me what I need to fix my face." She looked at me and said her apologies, muttering that wow, we'd done IVF three! times and there was nothing wrong with either of us (which by the way, I have NO idea where she came up with that idea). I cut her off again and said there was plenty wrong with both of us, and that's how I know with pretty good certainty that if I did get pregnant it would be a miracle and I would be sure to let her know. Of course I was still smiling and trying to keep the mood light. My favorite part of this was the MA in the room--her face hit pity, happiness (when I said we were adopting), and went back to pity all in a matter of seconds. She literally looked as if slinking out of the room were an option, she'd take it.

I got some meds for my awful adult acne, had a funky mole removed and sent off for biopsy, and left feeling like I had gotten something accomplished. When I read Hilary's post, I just laughed and laughed. How could other medical professionals--DOCTORS--be so out of touch. Hilary writes:

Apparently, even doctors get uncomfortable when talking about infertility (and adoption, too!). It's like some dirty word, those things we never speak of. People must think we are just going to spontaneously combust and they won't know how to clean up the pieces. Or what if she melts into a puddle of tears? I forgot my mop today!

So here is what led to my light bulb (I didn't forget, I'm getting there). What's the next conversation you inevitably have once you've announced you're infertile and that you are adopting? Maybe a smile, maybe an OOOhhhhh!, maybe a blank stare. 99% of people don't know what reaction to have. It's uncomfortable for them, not knowing what to say next. It's uncomfortable for me, as I anticipate the next question. It's just plain uncomfortable.

Hilary writes:

You can see their heads spinning, trying to come up with the appropriate response, trying to figure out why we would be doing that. Maybe they can't have kids. I didn't know they were rich. Don't they know the birthmothers always want them back? I hope they don't get a crack baby.

My light bulb--sometimes, when I feel like crawling in a hole and don't want to see or talk to anyone but BigTex, it's because very, very, VERY few people don't look like that. I really have tried to give most everyone the benefit of the doubt--to give them some credit that they might be smarter or more sensitive or less ignorant than I think they are about to be. But really, it is just more of the same--it's uncomfortable for them, for me, for the whole situation. I feel bad for my friends, because most mean well. They have such generous, open, accepting natures but since no one close to me IRL has had to do all that we've done to have a family, it is very apparent that awkward is pretty much the theme of any adoption discussions.

Two key points here. I love my friends. They have supported me, they listen, they ask questions. They will love our baby without a doubt. But this in-between is almost as hard on them as it is on us. They don't know what to say, what to ask about, when to just not bring it up. Is it hard in different ways? Sure. But there is no mistaking that it is hard all the way around. Ultimately, where does that leave things? It just means that I will move forward, being very comfortable here in this space, and I will just have to keep getting used to uncomfortable in my people-life. Here's to hoping that it will one day be comfortable there, too.