Happiness Sold Separately: Barren Bitches Book Brigade

I had sort of a love-hate response to Happiness Sold Separately. I loved how real the emotions of the main character Elinor were, but I have to admit I hated the feeling that the author exploited infertility as a plot device. I resented that she seemed to use the cliches of infertility leading to infidelity, getting pregnant after failed treatments by not trying, and that the infertile couple is older. I wish there were more books or at least more attention given to the infertiles who are in their 20's, of whom there are many.

Anyhow, on to the questions.

Elinor's thought on page 47 really struck me: "When Elinor was paying attention to her career, she should have been paying attention to her biological clock. When she was paying attention to her biological clock, she should have been paying attention to her husband." It made me wonder: Am I paying attention now to the things I should be paying attention to now? Are you?

Now this one hits me where it hurts. I often worry about the time I am "wasting" with all of this struggle to have a baby. I know that I think about it way too often and it has paralyzed my ability to look beyond the here and now. I've already missed a good friend's wedding, passed up another friend's birthday party, we're not going to my family's for the holidays, so many moments I am giving up. I know there are certain friends I have "written off" because they are not the most sensitive to infertility. I am holding in the job that I have now for fear of losing insurance coverage and leave time. And I worry that these months (and soon years) will be a black hole of memories for me and DH.

Elinor takes up laundry and Ted works on the hutch. What new hobbies did you pick up or abandon during treatments?

I love to read. But for about the last six months, I have found myself having a lot of difficulty getting through a book. I am tired so much of the time (whether from the meds or the getting up early to go appts or just plain old sick and tired) that I read barely a page or two before falling dead asleep. One thing I have taken on as a project is making our Christmas cards. I'm not particularly crafty, although I aspire to be. Not sure what I will do when the holidays are over. The thing that usually makes me happy is baking, but with my desire to lose weight, I have to avoid too much of that.

Elinor finally finds out there's a reason for her pregnancy problems, "a balanced translocation," and finds "there's solace in learning that something is tangibly wrong." How does (or would) a definitive, action-able diagnosis affect your ability to adjust or come to terms with your infertility? How would it affect your emotional response? Would it provide some closure? Alternatively, if you're in the unexplained category how does that ambiguity affect your decision-making and desire to keep trying?

We had a confirmed diagnosis with less than a year of trying. I just knew in my heart of hearts that something was wrong and my doctor was willing to start testing after only nine months of trying. As terrible as it was to find out, it was so affirming to know I wasn't crazy and that something WAS wrong. I think I would go over the edge if we were "unexplained."

Elinor participates in a book club meeting following her miscarriage and finds that "no one gets her"...and thinks "why should they? She's a barren, bitter, self-pitying grouch. She hates this book club. She smiles and loosens the grip on the stem of her wineglass, afraid she might snap it in half." Do you find yourself having similar experiences? Would the infertility struggle be easier for you if you felt that people "got you" or not? Please elaborate.

I could really relate to this experience. Just last week, at my book club, we were discussing the (truly terrible) book Eat, Pray, Love. The author of that book leaves her huband because she realizes that she doesn't want to be married and doesn't want to have a baby (I am simplifying this a bit). In our discussion, I said I couldn't relate at all to the author and my fellow book club members derided my inability to empathize with a women who (unknown to them) was rejecting everything that I am killing myself to get. And I do wish that others "got me" when it comes to infertility. Often, I feel that not even DH understands how I am feeling about this. And if he doesn't get it, then how can I possibly expect my parents or his parents or any of my friends to really understand? One of my friends keeps telling me to lean on my friends, that is what they are there for. But I don't want to "lean" for fear that they will say the "wrong" thing and leave me unbalanced.


Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list at http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/. You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood.