Where is the sensitivity?

Here is something I wrote as I was miscarrying. Let me know what you think.

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I write to you, as I sit here, going through yet another miscarriage. This one is number two. This one is due to an ectopic pregnancy. We would have been due on our fourth anniversary.

When I was single, I used to hate the im yirtza hashem by yous that I would get from almost everybody. I hated the pity glances at my “still” uncovered hair. I hated the judgments from others.

Nothing changes when you are married without children.

I still get the im yirtza hashem by yous, but now they also come with kvatter offers and other random sgulah offers. Not to mention a mothers-day-card from one of my “well-meaning” friends.

The stares now are at my stomach. Everyone’s playing the guess if she’s pregnant game. I already got a few b’shaa tova’s from people when I was not pregnant. These comments were shortly after my first miscarriage.

My “favorite” childless story though is when I was married for a year and a half and a lady I did not know at a wedding asked my husband and me if we had children. When I replied that we did not, she exclaimed, loud enough to make everyone at my table uncomfortable,
“You’re married a year and a half and you have no children. How can you call yourselves frum?!”

You would be surprised at the number of couples that have told us how lucky we are not to have any children. One lady in shul said to me, “You’re so lucky to have this time together without any kids. I wasn’t that lucky.” At that point she had six children. At that point I was hyperstimulating from an IVF cycle, could barely walk, and was trying my best to stay out of the hospital.

And then there are the women in shul that constantly ask where my baby is. My latest response to this was, “I didn’t realize having a baby was a prerequisite for coming to this shul.” I don’t think my answer was appreciated.
I guess insensitivity follows you with every stage in life. I’m sure people with kids (and maybe if we ever get to that point, I’ll know this from personal experience) also feel the insensitivity for other reasons. It probably never ends. But why can’t it? I try to be extra sensitive when I’m around singles, as I was single for a while and I know how difficult it can be. My husband and I won’t even hold hands around singles, as we’re concerned that our showing affection may cause them unnecessary pain. We have made shidduchim together to try and help our friends in whatever way we can (and have brought children into the world that way, at least). So I wonder sometimes why married couples with children can’t be just as “extra” sensitive around couples with children. Would it be so hard not to talk about disposable diapers vs. cloth diapers as the sole topic of conversation when childless people are present?
We desperately need sensitivity training in the Jewish community to help couples going through all stages of life. We are not all at our desired stage of life nor are we all at the place we envisioned for ourselves when we were younger. My husband and I started trying to have children immediately when we got married, as we both wanted a large family and had been dating for many years before finding each other. At this point, we’ll be ecstatic to have even one healthy child. We’ve been through so many doctors that I joke that at this point that I can’t even count the number of people that have seen me undressed. We’ve spent thousands upon thousands of dollars already, just to do yet more treatments that only succeed in fatiguing us both physically and emotionally. And we go through this almost entirely alone. Thankfully, most of our friends at this point our married with children. We’re very happy for them, but it’s hard for us, having almost no support system at all. And it’s hard for us to spend time with them, when they are constantly teasing about giving away their children and complaining about every spit up and dirty diaper. How happy we would be to have a diaper to change! How happy we would be to be woken up in middle of the night by a crying child!
As I sit here, trying to bear the pain of my second miscarriage and of our once-again shattered hopes, I wish with all my heart that our next pregnancy will have a better outcome. And I also wish with all my heart that our journey, as well as the journey of others in this situation and any other situation, could be made slightly easier through the sensitivity of others.