Infertility Awareness Week: Choose Your Support Group Wisely

While I’m talking specifically about infertility support groups, I think the following can also apply, in broad strokes, to just about any aspect of life. The support group you choose can help you feel connected or even more alone than you thought you were before.

What do I mean by that? Not all personalities mesh. I’m sure this isn’t shocking to anyone, but I think sometimes we need to hear (or read) it to remember it. I remember desperately yearning for some kind of support group when we were in the midst of infertility treatment. But I could seemingly only find two kinds.

The first kind were the folks who seemed to have an unlimited supply of happy juice. They were convinced that God was 100% in control, He was going to bless them, and nothing could possibly get them down. So if you happened to say something that was less than perky, you got a remonstrance of “Aw, buck up.” And if it happened again, instead of sympathy or empathy, you got reminded that you needed a positive attitude, that what you think about you bring about, and so forth. As if being Pollyanna would, somehow, make your ovaries work more than the drugs you were pumping into your body every day. Be negative a third time? Out of the club. ‘Cause they don’t need your kind of negativity in their lives.

Mind you, I don’t recommend becoming Negative Nelly – but you’re going to have a few days when you’re in the dumps, and you need people who’ll sit in the mud with you for a bit before reminding you that it’s time to shower and get back out there.

And so I left that group and found myself with people who lived in the mud pits so much that they’d built houses. Of course, they complained about the mud, but they weren’t doing anything to get out of it. Everything was horrible, this round of treatment was just as doomed to failure as the one before it but they’d go through it anyway because who knew, maybe they’d be surprised. But it wasn’t likely.

I’ll be honest, negativity feels like friendly commiseration for the first few days. Because they got it – they understood! They were as disappointed as I was. But then I felt those fingers of negativity crawling out into other aspects of my life. Not only was I unable to have kids, but the grass wasn’t green enough–or maybe it was too green, whatever it was, it caused pollen which made me miserable. Plus it’s outside and I’m liable to get sunburned…you know how it goes.

I never did find a group that offered what I’ll term rational support. I’m sure they’re out there, somewhere. But if you’re looking for support, look for people who’ll sit with you and mourn when it’s time to mourn but who will gently, and without making you feel worse about things, help you see that there’s a new day coming tomorrow and you’re going to get through it, one day at a time.

(And if you can’t seem to find a group like that, you might find that sort of encouragement and support in this devotional.)