On Belonging and Imposter Syndrome
Plus a link to my Bookshop.org storefront!
Welcome back to Good Egg! Grammarly tells me the tone of this post is “gloomy, formal, sad,” as I discuss my stillbirth and a grief group. If this isn’t for you today, scroll down to the IVF Treatment Update banner. As always, thank you for reading. 🫶🏼
When Grant and I first lost Phoenix, we tried various support groups. One was specifically for miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss. We attended that one for several months until I was pregnant again and could no longer appropriately join that group. But we attended one other general grief support group, just once, and it was one of the best things we did.
We arrived at a church and didn’t see a sign or directions for the grief group. We saw a few people arrive, and Grant asked them, “Is this the grief group?” No, it was an ESOL class. We anxiously wandered around until we saw more people arrive who were headed in a different direction. We made it to the church’s music classroom where people would pour their grief out for the next hour. I could barely speak without crying, so Grant did a lot of the talking about why we were there. All I said was, “I’m Emily, and I cry a lot,” trying to use humor to distract from the fact I had just spent four days in the hospital giving birth to our first child, who had died inside of me. Scientific term: Intrauterine Fetal Demise.
It was a small group, but I could tell several of them knew each other and had met before, in addition to the counselor who led the group. There were widows and a widower, a woman who lost her sister and mother, a woman whose adult child had died by suicide, and a woman whose young adult son died of an accidental overdose. But then there we were, grieving and crying over a person we had never actually met, let alone spent years or decades with. Who was I to be here? I felt like I was intruding on people with real grief, who did deserve to have this safe space for themselves.
And then, the only other man in attendance that night, an older man who lost his wife of many years, turned to me and Grant.
“I now want to speak to you two, directly. You belong here just as much as we do.”
I can’t remember if he said anything else, but it was like he read my mind and eased my discomfort in one sentence. It was a grief group, and we were grieving. We did belong there. I then worked up the courage to share a bit about Phoenix, I showed them her tiny crocheted hat from the hospital and a rose gold bracelet from my best friend that had “Phoenix” engraved on it. After the group ended, I had several of the attendees come up to me and say “I was where you are now. It is so hard, I’m so sorry.” I did belong there.
I’ll sometimes go through this feeling with infertility and IVF treatment, just like I did after losing Phoenix. I told my friends, “I know I am a mom, but I don’t get to be a mom.” I felt like an imposter in the motherhood community. I simultaneously felt like an imposter in the pregnancy loss community, because I “just” had a stillbirth at 22 weeks when there were families who went through so much worse. But someone who experienced a loss at 6 weeks, or 12 weeks, or any weeks, would belong at my pregnancy loss support group just as much as I did. So why was I making myself feel this way?
I’ve been pregnant three times before, and now I do have a living child. Who am I to be part of the infertility community when there are IVF long haulers who go through many, many rounds just to have one child? Am I being ungrateful for what I have?
But that’s just the thing, if you have met Henry, you can see why I dream of having another child or children. He’s amazing and hilarious! He’s the best part of life. I also loved growing up with my two sisters. I feel like my family isn’t complete yet, so that’s why I’m here. But I know I don’t owe anyone an explanation, and if you’re going through this, neither do you. Because you belong here just as much as I do.
As I write and schedule this post, my embryo transfer is imminent. I’ve been acupuncturing, bone brothing, and caffeine abstaining (pray for me). Next issue I will write all about my experience, and what I did before and after transfer. I’m going to be writing about and linking to cozy socks, this is the content America has been clamoring for!!
This isn’t specifically IVF content, but I now have a Bookshop.org Store! I’ve curated a few lists of books I’ve read and love for various phases (fertility, pregnancy, loss) so I hope you find something helpful or interesting. I’ll be adding to the store periodically, including a section for parenting books that I have not read but like staring at in my house!! 😛
So whether you order through my shop (I will get a small commission from every sale!), your local bookstore, or check it out from your local library, just make Amazon your last resort, k? And let me know what books you suggest I add!
Me: Henry, what is your favorite bird?
Henry: Hmm.. PEACOCK!
The male is a peacock, the female is a peahen and the babies are peachicks. All are peafowl. A group of peafowl is called an ostentation, a muster, or a pride.1
PEACHICKS. I’m obsessed. As Henry would say, “this is wots peacocks.”
Proud of you for sharing your experience ❤️ you’re amazing and helping others. Love you!
Thank you for sharing. I'm so glad you found a support group where you felt you belonged. We are here for a playdate with Henry any day and my daughter can tell him all about her Peacock friend that she shared a bunch of goldfish with recently at a safari village! :)