Faces of Infertility and Loss - Ryanne's Story and Letters

Ryanne is another online friend of mine who has more grace than two of me put together. She's a person who wears her heart on her sleeve and seems to always try to put herself in others shoes. She's one of those women who you just instantly connect with. Today I share her story and letters. Thank you Ryanne for sharing with us today! 

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Our Story: 

Hi! My name is Ryanne and my husband and I have been married since 2008. We started our TTC journey in 2011, and had a miscarriage in 2013. We are now starting out fertility treatment with a doctor who practices NaPro Technology. I blog over at www.girlryanne.blogspot.com, documenting our journey and all the challenges that go along with it. I'm writing to two people today, but I promise to keep them short!

Dear K, 

I just wanted to say thank you for being there over these last two years. You've listened to me rant and rave about temperatures and sex, cervical fluid and pee sticks without complaint. You've let me vent my frustrations, and not been afraid to tell me exactly what you think. I have needed that more than you probably realize because frankly, this journey sucks sometimes! 

I also want to tell you that I am crazy excited about being an aunt again! I'm so glad that you aren't going through the same stuff I am, and I can't wait to meet your little one. I'll be honest, at first I wasn't sure how I was going to get through the next 8 months. Let's face it--to be struggling with infertility while your best friend is having a baby is really hard. There are some things that I know will be really, really hard for me. But I promise to be there. I promise to stick it out and be supportive. Not only because you would do the same for me, but also because I want to. 

I love you so much! 

Dear M, 

I know that our relationship has been rocky the last few years. It probably has something to do with us both being firstborn women or something like that. But I'd love for it to be better. So I tried opening up to you about some of my frustrations with TTC. And honestly...I kind of regret it. 

I regret it because you let me down. Instead of being supportive you tried to be controlling...and then you told me that you were "done" talking about it when I didn't agree with you.

I expressed my frustration and disappointment, and you told me to get a second opinion when I've only given this doctor a couple of months and a single round of treatment. This stuff doesn't work overnight, and I told you that. I didn't say I wasn't open to it, I just said not now.

You told me that I need to not think about it so much, to stop wasting my brain, to go back to work. 

You told me that I'm consumed.

Well here's the thing. Getting a different job, trying to distract myself...none of that means anything when your empty due date rolls around, or the one year anniversary of your loss, or another year of TTC. None of that helps on Mother's Day, or Father's Day. None of that makes a difference as you watch your niece and your friends' kids grow up...the kids that you hoped would be best friends with yours. You act like it's a trivial thing that I need to pretend doesn't bother me. You don't understand. You'll never understand. You gave birth to seven live children and never even had to try. You never had a miscarriage. You will never understand how this feels, what it's like to live with something like infertility. 

And do you know what? I left my job because I hated it. I love being home. I'm able to accomplish all kinds of stuff during the week so that I have free weekends. I'm using my brain working on cultivating our garden, learning to preserve the produce, because learning to be self sufficient is important to us. I'm even able to work on the side doing that "really cool job" now and then--it's lined up as we speak. Just because I don't have a career doesn't mean that I'm wasting my brain and being unproductive. Just so you know.

So maybe I am a little bit "consumed". But that's because in order to even have the chance of getting help, I have to keep track of every cycle day every single month. Temperatures, ovulation tests, supplements, meds, shots, timing sex for the best possible chance. All to fail again and again and again. I think you would be consumed too. 

So you want to be "done" talking about it? I can't believe that you are so narrow minded and controlling that you would tell me that. It's this kind of ignorance that keeps people from talking about their struggles--because people like you shut us down and make us feel less than whole. All this? It doesn't even begin to cover how hurt I am. I feel so betrayed by you--one of the people I should be able to count on most. 

Well, I learned my lesson. I can't count on you. I can't talk to you. It hurts me so much to even write that out, but it's true. 

Faces of Infertility and Loss - Rachele's Story and Letter

I'm so excited an honored to be sharing these letters with you. The first letter starts today! Today's letter is from Rachele who has become a very close friend of mine online. She was a guiding light through my struggles and just an overall amazing friend ans supporter. I'm honored to share her letter today. Please don't be shy and leave some encouraging words for the beautiful Rachele.

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Our Story:

My husband and I have been trying to conceive since August of 2010.  In January of 2012, after 18 months of trying to conceive, I was diagnosed with “Unexplained infertility”.  In August of 2012, we found out we have a perfect storm of infertility when my husband was diagnosed with infertility as well.  In February of 2014 I was diagnosed with PCOS, and we are currently seeing a new Reproductive Endocrinologist in hopes to move forward on our journey to conceiving.   http://infertilitylifelove.blogspot.com/

Dear Friend-

Thank you for being you.  Thank you for being there for me, even when you don’t know my pain first hand.  It’s impossible to know the pain of infertility when you haven’t experienced it—but you try.  You try to understand how hard it is for me.  You’re sympathetic. You have found the balance between asking too many questions yet still offering support and letting me vent.


So many people struggle with the etiquette surrounding infertility, but if you don’t know—you ask.  You ask me if I’m okay.  You ask me if it’s too hard for me to be around your daughter.  You ask me how I feel about different situations.  You give me the option of whether or not I can handle something.


You bring me down to earth.  You remind me that people don’t know this pain.  You remind me that many people get pregnant without any issues, and because of that, they may not appreciate the pregnancy like I would.  You remind me that they aren’t trying to minimize my feelings of not being able to get pregnant, but rather dealing with the current struggles in their life.   You remind me that people don’t know my struggle, therefore they can’t relate.


And lastly, you remind me that despite this struggle—I am lucky.  I am lucky to have an amazing support system.  I’m lucky that I have been brave enough to share my journey with family and friends. I'm lucky to have a great husband by my side through this.  And I’m lucky that I have a best friend who is willing to support me through a journey she struggles to understand.

Love Always,

Rachele

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If you'd like to share your own letter be it if you've suffered a loss, infertility or both please email me at amandanicole1828@gmail.com (titled - 'Faces of Infertility / Loss'  or  ' The face of an Infertility / Loss Supporter' . I'm also encouraging supporters of family and friends to write a letter to someone who is struggling with infertility or a loss. Sometimes it's so encouraging and nice to hear from those who make such a huge impact on our journey. Without your support it'd be near impossible to find the strength to keep fighting.

Please refer to the following post (Letters from the Faces of Infertility/Loss)  about these letters for further details.

Faces of Infertility/Loss Letter series - Looking for people to feature!

Over the next little bit I'd like to open the floor up to my readers and fellow members of the Infertility and or Loss Community. I'd like to hear from you and  have you participate in my new letter series “Faces of Infertility/Loss” or  “A face of an infertility/loss supporter” . It's time this blog saw some other faces of infertility in hopes to help others going through the same thing.

Here's what I need from you:
If you could write a letter to a family member or friend about your journey who has been supportive or insensitive what would it say? Would you thank them for listening and being a shoulder to cry on? For their understanding even when they hadn’t been through what you have? Would you kindly tell them how their comments have hurt you in the past? If you were able to write such letter(s) what would they say?

You can do this anonymously by using Alias’ or you can share as many details about yourself as you'd like (that part is up to you and I will completely respect those wishes). Share your own blog in your story or use pen names.

I’m also accepting letters from some supporters. Just for them to be able to write an encouraging letter to a family member or friend who is struggling.

Please send all stories to amandanicole1828@gmail.com  Please include a brief story about your struggle or if you’re a supporter a brief story about yourself and the relationship you have with the person you’re writing the letter to.  Along with any added details you'd like shared. This is a great opportunity for you to share how you feel and perhaps someone else will really resonate with your story and your feelings. I'll email you the link when your story has gone live.

It still stings

Many would presume that after battling infertility for 4 years and finally getting our take home daughter that I would have just 'moved on' from what happened over the past 4 years. I find some times even in the 'company' of fellow strugglers I'm made to feel like I still shouldn't be having the feelings I do about infertility. Not that it's ever said out right but it's like people can move on. It kind of feels like infertility isolation all over again.

I have to be honest with you all here and now, infertility I don't feel is something you move on from, ever... At least it's certainly not the case for me, nor do you ever really move on from the loss, but that's another post for another day. INfertility for me is something that has and will stay with me, forever. My daughter will know what it took, she'll understand what so few people come to understand about infertility, partially because of the taboo nature of it all. Quick pregnancies still get me in the feelers, I still get that heart jumping in my throat reaction, I don't think about it, it just happens. Frankly after 4 years of it I don't know if that'll ever fully lessen, nor do I feel it really should because I still feel that way for our journey and for others who are still struggling.

I still have days where I feel bitter, I have days where I feel outright angry at our situation and what happened. How our life with our little girl was delayed for so long. I still have 'why me' days. Do you ever truly get over one of the hardest life struggles my family has faced? I have to say no, and I also want to say it's OKAY! It's okay that I still feel this way, it's okay that I haven't 'moved on'. How do you let something like that just go? How do you move on from something that was a HUGE part of your life, of your problems, struggles both mentally and physically throughout the years. HOW do you MOVE ON? WHY must one move on from that? Do I sit here depressed every day? Goodness no, but I don't feel for my life I'll 'move on' from this chapter in my life. It's just that, a chapter in my life, written and never erased. It'll remain to be re-read and sometimes emotions will rear their old head. What I ask is wrong with remembering and possibly at the odd time feeling that pain? I'm sure someone will find it unhealthy but I just don't feel like infertility is something you move on from. It's something that stays in your life sure it may be quieter once you find peace in whatever situation you are dealt be it a child, adoption or a life of childlessness. But I don't truly feel it's something you let go of. I feel like if I forget or move on, it's one less advocate for my friends in the struggle, one less advocate for me who did battle this disease, one less person who genuinely cares and remains mindful and down to earth to how it still hurts others to this day.

I think sometimes I feel almost anger that there has to be this division. That some expect you to be 'over it' once you get your child or come to peace with your family numbers as the are. That once that happens you shouldn't be talking about it any more. You shouldn't feel the need to be upset any more or be respectful the way you wanted those to be respectful towards you when it was all to hard to sometimes even go to baby showers for others or see new babies. (The only thing I'm bad at is facebook and I'm sorry for that. I do share photos of my daughter but it is because of family being far away and because well it's her and I feel I should relish in having her. However, I always feel bad when I do it. I feel bad because I feel like I'm betraying friends who are struggling. It helped when very close friends who were struggling told me they were okay with it. And I know they weren't bluffing they were being upfront and honest which I respect completely.

I do try to respect in other ways, during my pregnancy I tried to keep the posts to a minimum. For me pregnancy was always the hardest over the actual baby. I'm not sure why, still don't know why.

Sorry for this ramble but I needed to get it out. While the struggles have all be worth it to have my daughter and let me know we made it to where we are, it doesn't change what happened, what I felt and still at times feel to this day.

Infertility is a very unfair disease in a multitude of ways. Just because someone may end up having a child or come to peace with their situation doesn't mean it wasn't apart of who they were and still apart of who they are. Infertility is like a deep wound. Sure for some it may 'heal' up but the scar remains.