By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“Aunt Kath….” My young nephew looked up at me with his big brown eyes, my sister’s eyes.
“Yes, love.”
“You know what I’m doing right now?”
“Nope. Tell me.”
“I’m pretending you’re my mommy.”
My heart swelled to three times its size before I felt like it was then ripped out of my chest. Choking back a sob, I said, “That’s so sweet. Thank you. Tell me….” But before I could ask him about this imaginary family of his, where he got the idea, what kind of mommy I was (funny, strict, a lot like his real mommy), he had moved on to a new topic, something to do with a game he likes to play at his preschool. Hours later, alone with my thoughts, I revisited this exchange and struggled to come to terms with what it did to me.
I’m not new to this conversation. This sweet boy is the youngest of six nieces and nephews, and each has gone through this phase of wanting to pretend I’m their mommy. Out to lunch or shopping with a niece (“Let’s pretend you’re my mom.”), playing in the park with a nephew (“Maybe they think you’re my mom.”). They’re all great kids, so I’m flattered and touched by their game. And they’re all great kids, so it also slays me emotionally. I would have loved being their mom.
I expected to grieve my losses, feel left out, and wrestle with difficult choices in the coming-to-terms-with-being-childfree dance. I just didn’t think that the same moments that fill my soul with unanticipated joy could also send me into new cycles of depression. Brutal, right?
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
Wow – bittersweet, and yes however much we accept and work through the grief, I don’t think you can ever be free of the ripple of sadness that infertility exposes us to. Its a daily battle to recalibrate with all the constant reminders of the sadness and loss. However much we heal and grab life – these moments continue to penetrate us when we least expect it. I keep trying a new imaginary game – not sure of the success, I pretend that I did have the children I longed for and they have now grown up and left home – if our treatment had worked early on in our struggles they would be 20 years old now – I’m attempting to free myself from being stuck yearning for a baby and being triggered by very young babies and children. Its a daily struggle….. thinking of you Kathleen and sending a cyber hug. Childless not by choice is an incurable disease – and like those who take medicine daily for their disease, I need to connect with others to get through and remind myself a life without children is still a good life and one full of other dreams and passions.