Help! I Have the Most Gorgeous Baby. Something Is Keeping Me From Appreciating Her.

Dear Prudence Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by ~UserGI15613517/Getty Images Plus. Our advice columnists have heard it all over the years—so we’re diving into the Dear Prudence archives to share classic letters with our readers. Submit your own questions to Prudie here. Dear Prudence, Last year, after trying on our own for a year, my husband and I underwent an in vitro fertilization cycle, despite being told that our chances were very, very slim. I went in for weekly and then biweekly transvaginal sonograms, changed my diet, went to therapy to deal with stress, and administered several shots each day. And it was worth it: Against all odds, we now have the most gorgeous baby… Physically, the pregnancy was mostly uneventful, but after struggling to get pregnant in the first place, every day was scary, and I frequently had thoughts of something terrible happening. One would think that all the angst, depression, and anxiety of fertility struggles would evaporate with a successful pregnancy. But for me, they haven’t. I still struggle with the unfairness that we had to go through so much to have a child when others have one or many so easily. When I see parents in the park ignoring or being snippy with their kids, I feel rage; it seems they don’t know how lucky they are. I struggle, despite being pro-choice, to be supportive of those terminating a pregnancy for nonmedical reasons. It feels almost like PTSD, and I don’t know how to get past it, especially as we are now, once again, hoping for another miracle. What can I do to move forward? —Unfair Dear Unfair, When you find yourself assuming people you don’t know had easy roads to parenthood and take their own children for granted, meet that fantasy with the following response: “I don’t know this person. I don’t know what her life is like or anything about her relationship to her children outside of this five-minute window today. This person cannot help me with my own feelings of anxiety and fear.” I understand your reflexive instinct to turn your pain inside out and use it to scrutinize other people’s actions—it’s an instinctive response I often share!—but it’s not going to get you anywhere. Whether someone else has an abortion has nothing to do with whether you yourself have a child. You know that on some level, but grief and anxiety have a tendency to cause magical thinking—the idea that an action wholly unrelated to a particular course of events can somehow influence its outcome—as well as the belief that everyone else should act as we do. The thought goes: “If I have struggled to have a child and it’s caused me pain, then having a child must be equally important for other people to do, and no one should delay or decide against doing so.” I hope this doesn’t sound harsh. I don’t think any of us are responsible for the irrational thoughts we catch ourselves thinking when we’re in pain, and you seem very aware that this is not a helpful, generous, rational approach to dealing with others. It makes sense that this pain has lingered, that it did not magically evaporate when you finally had a child—pain and anxiety almost never dissipate entirely when the hoped-for outcome finally arrives; they just find a way to suck the joy out of that too. You cannot push these feelings away nor will them out of existence with positive thinking. If the feelings come up, acknowledge them as neutrally as possible: “Right now, I’m afraid I’ll never have a second child. I’m remembering how scary it was to try to have the first. I feel alone, as if the world is full of happy-but-careless parents, and no one else shares, understands, or cares about my pain. I’m scared of how badly I want a second child because that does not guarantee I will get what I want. I don’t know how to experience joy for other people right now, because I’m so stuck here.” I recommend therapy, certainly, but any time you can take to set aside each day to acknowledge your feelings and not try to fight your way past them, whether that be in a journal, in private meditation, or in conversation with someone you trust, may prove helpful. —Danny M. Lavery From: Help! My Husband Wants a “Football Team” of Kids. Uh, That’s Going to Be a Big Problem. (May 28th, 2023). Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear Prudence, My brother was married and had twins who are now teenagers. He got a divorce two years ago and immediately moved in with his female coworker. I recently found out they had a baby and got married without telling us. We spend holidays, birthdays, and summers together. He still hasn’t told me personally. I can’t help but feel hurt by this. How do I approach this without ruining our relationship? —My Brother Got Married Dear Got Married, I mean, this really isn’t on you. Your brother already took significant steps toward ruining your relationship by keeping a massive secret. If you two don’t talk about the fact that he has a wife and child, there’s not much there to preserve. How do you even have discussions about his life if the deepest you can go when you’re spending all summer together is “Wow, it’s humid” and “Can I use your sunscreen?” Anyway, my guess is that he didn’t tell you because he was cheating with his coworker before he got divorced and has a lot of shame around the situation, which made him delay sharing the news of the move-in, and then the marriage, and then the baby. The secrecy just got out of hand. If you can say this and mean it, I recommend: “So, I just learned about your baby and I want to reach out and congratulate you. I know you have been through a lot with the divorce and these last few years have been an emotional rollercoaster, so I think I understand why you haven’t shared the news about your new family. But I love and support you and would really like to meet my niece/nephew and new sister-in-law when you are ready. I hope you’re not worried that because of my connection to your ex and the twins I’ll make things weird. I promise I won’t, and if there’s anything that’s off limits to talk about just let me know.” —Jenée Desmond-Harris From: Help! My Brother Has a Secret Family. He Thinks I Don’t Know. (May 20th, 2023). Dear Prudence, I’ve met a guy who has taken an interest in me, though we both seem to be introverts and I feel like our personalities are a hindrance to getting to know each other. How do I make it easier on my end? —Want to Make It Work Dear Make It Work, I think you’ve misdiagnosed the problem here. Introversion isn’t a good excuse for failing to connect. Two introverts could text or talk all night long—they just aren’t likely to want to do it at a party or a weekend-long music festival where there are a million other people to be “on” for. Hitting a roadblock on the path to get to know each other strikes me as a little red flag—a tiny one, very light red, maybe even more pinkish, but still a red flag—telling you this is not a great match. It could just be that the intensity of your connection isn’t enough to pull the two of you out of your shyness and toward each other. But it’s worth making an effort since you do seem to like him. Here are a few ideas: 1) Invite him to do an activity—like painting an accent wall in your apartment, or playing a board game, or picking out a new pair of glasses—that will give you a little something to talk about in a low-pressure situation. And hopefully that conversation will naturally become more personal over time. 2) Tell him you want to get to know him and propose working through the 36 questions that lead to love that the New York Times once published. When you suggest this, say “I’m not saying we have to fall in love (unless you want to), they’re just good conversation starters.” 3) Do nothing and wait until your desire to talk to him overrides your introversion and you are moved to pick up the phone and start talking. And see if he goes along with it. —J.D.H. From: Help! My Father Refuses to Acknowledge That His Horrible Politics Led to My Mother’s Death. (May 18th, 2023). Classic Prudie My late mother didn’t leave it in her will, but she always expressed a desire to “take care” of her grandchildren: my nephew “Ben,” and my niece “Sally.” She died six years ago. I bought out my brother and sister when it came to the house, since I was tired of the city life. My brother had an affair and married a “good Christian” woman. It completely alienated Sally from our family. She is bisexual and biracial. My new sister-in-law would rather that Sally never existed. Sadly, I was going through my own issues and wasn’t very present in Sally’s life during the divorce. Never miss new Slate Advice columns Get the latest from Prudie and our columnists in your inbox each weekday, plus special bonus letters on Saturdays. Advice Family