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A blog by Ryanne, January 20, 2015
I stood in my bathroom around Thanksgiving three years ago and tossed my pack of birth control in the trash. My husband and I had decided that we were ready to start our family.
Little did we know that three years later we would still be waiting. I've actually been pregnant twice, and miscarried both. We've now moved on to medications, ultrasounds, injections and IUI from just charting and trying on our own. If you had asked us where we thought we would be in three years when we started, we would have probably told you that we would have a toddler and be pregnant or trying for our second. Infertility wasn't even on our radar.
In the last few years, we've watched our friends and family have babies, move on two baby number two (or three), and some have even completed their families. All before we even got started. We've had experiences where we've gone somewhere and felt like we didn't fit in at all because we were the only ones without kids. We've felt like we were obviously on the outside looking in. I've had people tell me that we're trying too hard, or that we should do XYZ instead of ABC. Most of the time, it isn't like that. We've been blessed with pretty understanding and supportive friends and family. But every once in awhile, the elephant stands right in the middle of the room and will. not. move.
It's those times that make infertility really hard. It's those situations that drive me to journal for hours or go to sleep with tears in my eyes, or even "unfollow" someone on Facebook so I don't have to see the pregnancy updates. It's those times that have taught me that it's okay to be upset and to honor those feelings. It's okay to hide Facebook updates, because my sanity and emotional stability are more important to me than Facebook. I've even learned that my acting classes in college haven't gone to waste in those moments when I need to keep it together and I just can't.
Those times have shown me some amazing things about myself. In this, I've seen my strength and my courage. I've had to learn to accept that I can't control everything and that sometimes failure just happens. And I'm learning to have faith and trust. That's a work in progress, I'll admit.
I'm an optimist--I like to believe that things really do happen for a reason, or at least that there's always a silver lining. Something good coming from something bad. So I like to think that this is just one more experience shaping me into the person I'm supposed to be. Oddly enough, I'm okay with that. Do I want to move on from this? YES! A thousand times, yes. If I had the choice, this month would be successful and I would have a baby in nine months. Does that mean that I'm going to accept it graciously if this month isn't successful? Honestly? Not at first, because no matter how many times I'm at that point it will never be easy. But I'll get there. And someday, I'll be on the other side of this--whatever that looks like.