You said nothing

and I wish that you had

We dust ourselves down and show up to the party, pretend gin and tonic in hand.

Friends there know we’ve just had a round of IVF that didn’t work/that we have just had a miscarriage/that we’ve had surgery/that We Are Likely Not to Be OK and they say …nothing.

They say absolutely nothing.

The curious behaviour of humans not knowing how to respond never fails to surprise me. There’s a lot written about the lousy things that people say to people who are trying and not making a baby…

We know people will grab hold of ‘at least’ you get to lie in at weekends. We know that they’ll rummage for stories of neighbours cousins that conceived on holiday. We know they’ll suggest ovulations sticks and in the same conversation broach adoption as a back up plan.

But seldom is written about the silence.

I’ve thought a lot about the silence as an entity. It cloaks us in invisibility and leaves us not only unseen, but emptied. It forces itself slowly between friendships we expected more from. Our vulnerability is repaid with awkwardness, reticence or worse - it is forgotten. We are there in plain sight with our recent experiences deserving of compassion, recognition and validation. So what happens?

Fear of getting it wrong

Mostly as I’ve thought about this I have found compassion. Mostly. Words and responses are potent. People don’t want to get it wrong. People definitely don’t want to bring up something in case we didn’t want it mentioning. It’s like a bizarre double bluff situation. If you don’t mention it, we won’t mention it first. Whilst its unique, and I’d love to hear your thoughts - I actually do want people to ask me about the salient things in my life, even when they’re painful?

It really should be so simple, so why isn’t it simple?

Once, someone at work said to me ‘I have absolutely no idea what to say so I’m going to give you a massive hug’ and then she whispered in my ear ‘you don’t deserve this and I’m so sorry’. I’ve never forgotten it. That’s the power of words over silence.

The Shapeshifting Silence

Sometimes silence morphs and grows. It extends beyond in person miscommunication. We don’t get told about the pregnancy until the third trimester. We aren’t added to the baby shower WhatsApp group. The gaps between our respective messages gather dust.

Over time, silence feeds loneliness. And contempt. We are left with our paper cut unseen wounds wondering if our friendships will come out of this in tact. People talk to me about this often, indeed it is one of the most talked about things in my sessions with clients. I’ve spoken before about the impact of infertility on our friendships and you can listen to that here. Our relationships are meant to evolve. Platonic relationships don’t come with clear rulebooks - we do get to make them though.

I want you to feel seen

That’s why I write here. There aren’t always neat answers, saleable solutions, fixes and tips. Sometimes this stuff is just.. hard. It’s harder when no one talks about it.

You’re an incredible human. If you’re reading this and going through the storm right now - you are still an incredible human. You deserve to be asked how you are with meaning and deep interest. You deserve acknowledgement. You deserve IT ALL. People who have you in their orbit are The Luckiest. You deserve far more than silence.