things that I am still a little bitter about…

So I (seems like ages ago) had a miscarriage. You all remember. It’s nearly been 10 years. We were discussing this at work. Mostly because I said that a woman’s fertility is a sensitive issue.


It is.


Once upon a time, after i had my miscarriage, within 3 months I’d say, I was out visiting teaching. I was in a new ward. Instead of approaching the issue of me not having kids with a genuine desire to get to know me better, in a sweet way asking “Are you and Scott planning on starting a family soon?” or even a base “How long have you been married?” SOMETHING, my companion jumped in with a “Gosh Meryl, you better start having kids!” or something teasing of that sort. Teasing is for people who (on some level) know each other, and are comfortable with each other. I don’t know them. I remember smiling tightly. Smiling was hard. Being outside was hard, watching her drape her baby over her arm in exasperation was hard. So I said what I could, as nice as I could.

“I actually just had a miscarriage.”


and then i just let the room get awkward. I wanted them to be ashamed of asking. Because honestly– it’s no one’s business but mine and my husband’s. I have friends I talk about my fertility with. I have people I empathize with when they struggle. It’s a weird thing for a woman, to have a hard time getting pregnant, staying pregnant, etc. You feel broken. When people ask about it like it’s just as easy as walking to the mailbox– it’s frustrating. I didn’t know that people had a hard time getting/staying pregnant. I think before that I knew… two people. Total. Now I know MANY women who struggle with fertility issues of all kind. Their stories are heartbreaking. It doesn’t make them less, but it can make them feel less. You’re not quite a woman if you can’t have a baby. For me it was the thing I had grown up thinking and dreaming of. Having kids, having a family with my husband. I know it’s a bit stereo typical– but it was always what I wanted. And the fact that there was a speed bump on the way to it, it was devastating.

Could I have said something nicer? Like “Oh we’re trying.” or “How do we do that?” something funny and clever. I was depressed, I was sad. I was broken. I wanted to make those people feel an equal amount of awkwardness for how much hurt I felt in my heart. It was a moment of weakness, and I made a bad decision.

Moral of the story: Don’t ask people about their baby making progress unless you are prepared to hear a real answer.


Derringer Meryl [Babies] Out

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