By Lisa Manterfield
I’m doing really well at being at peace with not having children. But for a long time there were days when the darkness came over me. Do you know what I mean?
Ordinarily, the darkness was a tiny ball that I carried it around with me wherever I went. It was safely tucked away and I didn’t even notice it. Then something would happen to flip the lid and suddenly the darkness crept into every open space within me.
I’m got tired of carrying the darkness around and finally I was ready to let it go. I didn’t want to feel bitter or sad about not having children, because honestly, I was okay. But I couldn’t remember who I was any more. When I looked in the mirror I didn’t see me. I saw a woman who looked tired and overweight, and very, very serious about life. She didn’t laugh easily or live with abandon, like the real me used to. She was cautious and unwilling to let herself go. She felt like a square peg in a world full of round holes and it was lonely to live that way.
Our experiences make us who we are, but what happens to who we were? In a universe where energy remains constant, I knew that the old me — the laughing, carefree joyous me — must still have been around. I’d catch glimpses of her sometimes, and like a huntress, I’d follow her into the woods. And yet, so often, she managed to evade me.
But I was patient. I kept an eye on her and kept moving towards her. I kept hunting her, until I caught up with her again. And finally, she I were able to stand together again and let the darkness go.
Are you missing the old you? Where might you go to find her again?
The only time I find my old self is when I am out with friends or when we travel. Unfortunately, as soon as I come home, she disappears again. I have to work at getting out of my daily routines because that’s when the pain and sadness come out. Many times I just emotionally and mentally exhaust at trying to hold them at bay.
I can completely relate to your post Sherry, that’s exactly how it is for me too.
This post has just summed up my life recently! I am so relieved its not just me feeling this! Thank you!
Hi Sherry.
I know exactly where you are coming from. I have friends & family pregnant at moment & i have to put on act thqt i am happy for them, but behind closed doors i am a wreck….sobbing & screaming. I have seen my GP but they dont know of any counseloing for our situation. Since being told 6 years ago i cannot have children, my husband has stopped all intimacy with me as he says ” whats the point?”. We have only been married 7 years so this is a second devastating blow for me. If anyone in UK fancies meeting drop me an email xx
My infertility came as a result of stage four breast cancer.
I am struggling now after having my ovaries removed two weeks ago. I had never truly mourned the loss of my ability or the chance to have chance to have children. The deep grief has shocked me. My first cousin, same age as myself, had her baby the same day my ovaries were removed. I am this baby’s godmother.
I don’t know what this new me looks like yet. I find myself looking back at my 29 yr old newlywed self and I want to scream at her not to wait to try and get pregnant. If only.
I’m so sorry you lost your fertility through breast cancer, and that’s hard, your cousin’s child being born on that particular day.
It’s tempting to look back and think “Why didn’t I do it sooner?”. I had eleven (youthful) years in which I could have tried to conceive but didn’t bother. I know, however, that there were reasons why I didn’t (I really didn’t want to have children at that time, is the biggest; no one could have persuaded me otherwise). You will have had your good reasons for not doing it at 29, so don’t beat yourself up about it – hindsight is a really cruel thing and makes us forget completely how we actually felt at the time. Best wishes to you
I know how she feels I get angry when I hear if people expecting I want to be happy for them but I feel like saying don’t rub it in we can’t all have children like you we thought of ivf but it was too much hassle and stress so I backed out and we keep trying but we are moving on with our lives now happy without children now we are getting older I will decide to have contraception as I don’t want children old so we have to accept our lives without children as he is infertile
I myself have unexplained infertility. I could possibly get pregnant, but it hasn’t happened yet. Countless appointments, drugs etc. I find myself just randomly crying…at the oddest times. I want nothing more then to have children, I even work with babies for a living.
Reading your words is really helpful! Continue the awesome work. 🙂
I would like to find the old me – I know I became a bit humourless and closed to happiness after having infertility treatment. It’s as if everyone else won at something and I lost. I found it hard to be positive about anything for a long while, and even now I have to force myself not to say, “yes, BUT…” when someone points out something good about my life. I always find a condition, a contradiction.
I am finally trying to “own” not having children, though, by looking at the good aspects of being without kids. Since writing about it all I can feeling myself coming out of a tunnel, and I do feel more carefree.
So maybe one way to find the old you is through exploring your feelings about infertility and childlessness online, and especially through getting insights from other people in the same boat. I couldn’t find these people in real life.
One thing I know for sure is that I didn’t rely on my family and friends to drag me out of my funk: you really are completely on your own after infertility.
I think you put into words something I felt for a long time: Everyone else won at something and I lost.
Coupled with losing the dream of a family and dealing with a chronic and terminal illness, I feel like I am looking at life through an old movie camera. I see everyone else living the dreams I had deeply desired for myself.
It’s hard to find yourself within grief.
It is hard to find yourself within grief. That is so true. And I also relate to the feeling like I lost when everyone else won. Its such a relief to hear my darkest thoughts verbalised by someone else.
I too am searching for the old me. Four years ago, the last of our embryos were used without success. I was 45. Three years later my husband moved out- just before our 19th anniversary. Then suddenly, without warning and without symptoms, my periods stopped, two weeks before my 49th birthday which was yesterday. I thought I had dealt with not having kids. But now that I am faced with menopause, I find myself grieving all over again.
I have an active life. I participate in a running club where I have lots of friends. And I even sing in a rock band, a project I started four years ago, just in case I didn’t get pregnant. But there will always be that missing piece. I look at pictures from the past (thank you Facebook memories!) and I see the smile that has long gone from my face. I too do not want to be bitter. I hope I find peace someday.
This is the PERFECT way to describe it. Hunting your old self into the woods, yet she evades you. That’s absolutely dead right on.
I have to admit, I too look back on that certain period in my life, especially when I was in the depths of despair, and remember that darkness, and loneliness. I named that time “The Mud Years.” I felt like in order to truly be able to heal, I had to be able to grieve. So I got down into the mud of my feelings, and identity. I wallowed down there for a long time. I did not force myself OUT of the negative feelings; I knew that once I felt them all, and grieved for them, and acknowledged them, it would naturally start to fade.
And I am here to tell you that the Mud did fade. I slowly was able to get up and start walking, instead of sitting in the Mud of my feelings and sorrow.
I know that infertility changed me. I can’t ever go back to who I was before all of this. But you know what? I can learn to accept this NEW ME. And slowly, I can rebuild her and her future.
Beautifully written, but no, I don’t want to find the old me, because I’m childless because of “social infertility” and I’m having a hard time forgiving the person I was, for living and being so wrong.
I have found the new Me many years ago…I struggled in the past…no my life is not perfect, but it is not bitter either. I wanted kids, we tried, i had surgeries, we lost 7 adoptions…we begged God, we pleaded…it did not happen…So how did I find the new Me? Time and age…you see I am no longer young…I will be 62 soon and I have lost loved ones (especially my Mom and Dad) I experienced motherhood through becoming the mother to the mother, through caring for my dad, through hosting an exchange student, through caring for others kids…God had answered my prayers, just not in the way I wanted…I learned that Faith is believing even when you cannot see it…
The new me is old, but loves to travel, no longer thinks constantly about having children & fitting into society but just want to live, to go on trips and makes sure my socks both match…
The new me mentors to other childless women and tells them…it will never go away…but you will get better…not bitter, but better
Thanks Nita for sharing this!