Facing infertility together

By Rachel and David Mitchell

Heartbroken tears

With our friends gone, I no longer needed the mask and the real me broke through in heartbroken tears. I cried as I had never cried before and, when David came to bed, he found me there in a soggy heap. He held me close while I cried out my pain.

For a whole hour, David held me, stroked my hair, and spoke not a single word. He allowed me to cry. For the next hour we talked and, between sobs, I tried to tell David how I felt. I've no idea what we said to each other that night, the words were soon forgotten, but not the feelings. In the midst of my grief and anguish I was comforted. I knew the depth of David's love for me.

When I look back on that bitter-sweet night now, I don't know why I was so upset. Why did it hurt so much that the pain was actually physical? Why did I cry so bitterly over something which filled others with delight? Why couldn't I just be happy for our friends? I don't know the answers to those questions, but I'm very glad that David didn't question my feelings. He accepted my pain and didn't judge me for how I felt.

Over the years we have realised that the important thing is to accept each others feelings and uphold each other during the hard times and rejoice together in the good.

David and Rachel were eventually able to start a family and now have two children. They are part of the team which leads Engaged Encounter weekends (a programme of the charity, Anglican Marriage Encounter) encouraging engaged couples to build strong marriages which will see them through the ups and downs of married life together.