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The past few days, since I had a fight with my sister over this blog, I have been thinking more and more about what it means to be the sibling who is sick. My friend Sonja and I have talked about it-she has two brothers who will probably one day start a family of their own. Watching siblings starting their own families can be torture on the infertile/barren/sick.
The first thing that I heard after I woke up from my hysterectomy was that my sister had given birth to a boy. I had been saying for months that I just knew she was going to go into labor while I was in surgery, and everyone kept saying that I was being stupid. Bigger than life-before I walked back to the delivery room, my mother got a text saying it would be soon. When I woke up, broken and gutted-I asked my husband if everything was ok. He said yes. I asked about my sister. He said "we have a nephew."
When my parents got back to see me (after driving 45 minutes to see her), the very first thing that was said was "do you want to see a picture of your nephew?"
Not really, mother, but ok, I will pretend to be happy at this moment.
Don't get me wrong, eventually I was happy, but mostly I just wanted to feel my own loss for just a few moments.
My siblings will have families. I hope for nothing more than for M's children to grow happy and healthy, and I hope nothing more than for N to one day be able to legally marry a woman she loves and start a family of her own. That all being said, I will still always be the sick one. I will always be the one trying desperately to get them to understand-and always failing.
Once, after another large fight with M, I actually convinced her and my mother to sit down and talk about Endometriosis, PCOS, and Adenomyosis. I brought all my books and research and journals and all kinds of things. A whole bag full of information that I had been trying to share with them for months-and now I was finally going to get to. M proceeded to tell me that (another M), our cousin, who also has endo, was able to get through school and work full time-therefore I must be faking or something. She would not even try to hear me when I told her that this disease effects every single woman differently. She refused to listen-refused to see things for what they were-and left in a huff. My mother kept the books and info and read them, and for that I am thankful. There were things that she didn't know-and at least she made an effort.
Then after this, when we had a family event in ND, we stopped in Fargo for the night, which was uber cool, because it meant that I was going to get to finally meet one of my best friends, Sonja. My mother and M were sharing the room with me, and expressed interest in meeting her to. Sonja and I went up to the room, and M said, and I quote, the following to her...
"I just want to say thank you so much for being there for Sara because I know how much she needs it and I know how much it helps her to have you there for her."
Um.
What?
M's big thing is that my online friends and blog friends who have endo all feed me. I feed them. We "feed off each other." She says this often. But when she is actually faced with another human being who suffers like I do? Oh well then its all "I understand" and "thanks for the support."
Hypocrisy.
The whole thing is-I can't change it. I can't make her see me for who I am, and I can't make her grow up. But I can try. I can try to get her to see who I am and what I am-and I suppose if she never gets it, then thats her loss. Because lets face it-I am pretty damn cool.
The first thing that I heard after I woke up from my hysterectomy was that my sister had given birth to a boy. I had been saying for months that I just knew she was going to go into labor while I was in surgery, and everyone kept saying that I was being stupid. Bigger than life-before I walked back to the delivery room, my mother got a text saying it would be soon. When I woke up, broken and gutted-I asked my husband if everything was ok. He said yes. I asked about my sister. He said "we have a nephew."
When my parents got back to see me (after driving 45 minutes to see her), the very first thing that was said was "do you want to see a picture of your nephew?"
Not really, mother, but ok, I will pretend to be happy at this moment.
Don't get me wrong, eventually I was happy, but mostly I just wanted to feel my own loss for just a few moments.
My siblings will have families. I hope for nothing more than for M's children to grow happy and healthy, and I hope nothing more than for N to one day be able to legally marry a woman she loves and start a family of her own. That all being said, I will still always be the sick one. I will always be the one trying desperately to get them to understand-and always failing.
Once, after another large fight with M, I actually convinced her and my mother to sit down and talk about Endometriosis, PCOS, and Adenomyosis. I brought all my books and research and journals and all kinds of things. A whole bag full of information that I had been trying to share with them for months-and now I was finally going to get to. M proceeded to tell me that (another M), our cousin, who also has endo, was able to get through school and work full time-therefore I must be faking or something. She would not even try to hear me when I told her that this disease effects every single woman differently. She refused to listen-refused to see things for what they were-and left in a huff. My mother kept the books and info and read them, and for that I am thankful. There were things that she didn't know-and at least she made an effort.
Then after this, when we had a family event in ND, we stopped in Fargo for the night, which was uber cool, because it meant that I was going to get to finally meet one of my best friends, Sonja. My mother and M were sharing the room with me, and expressed interest in meeting her to. Sonja and I went up to the room, and M said, and I quote, the following to her...
"I just want to say thank you so much for being there for Sara because I know how much she needs it and I know how much it helps her to have you there for her."
Um.
What?
M's big thing is that my online friends and blog friends who have endo all feed me. I feed them. We "feed off each other." She says this often. But when she is actually faced with another human being who suffers like I do? Oh well then its all "I understand" and "thanks for the support."
Hypocrisy.
The whole thing is-I can't change it. I can't make her see me for who I am, and I can't make her grow up. But I can try. I can try to get her to see who I am and what I am-and I suppose if she never gets it, then thats her loss. Because lets face it-I am pretty damn cool.
