By Lisa Manterfield
Last week I had the pleasure of doing a podcast interview with Cathy at Slow Swimmers and Fried Eggs. We had an excellent conversation and covered the gamut of topics from the shock of realizing we were infertile to the unexpected benefits of living childfree. One of the questions she asked about my “lightbulb” moment, that one event or conversation or realization that told me I had to stop pursuing my quest for motherhood.
There were several moments that I wrote about in detail in I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home. These were moments when I knew, deep down, that I had to stop treatment and had to find a way to move on without children.
The first was when I was sitting at a bus stop on my way home from my third doctor appointment of the week. I realized that getting pregnant had become a full-time job and that it was consuming every aspect of my life. Case in point, I don’t even remember why I was taking the bus (two buses, actually) to my appointments, but I do remember that this had become my habit. I can picture myself now, staring out the bus window, almost in a trance, so wrapped up my world of infertility, I was barely aware of my actions. I knew then I had lost touch with reality and myself.
Another point came not long after Mr. Fab realized that adoption wasn’t going to be a viable option for us. This really should have been the stopping point, but before long I found myself in the infertility section of the bookstore, browsing a book by a doctor who had performed fertility miracles through Chinese Medicine. I bought the book, even though we’d already traveled far down that road. When I mentioned it to Mr. Fab, he said all the right, supportive things, but I saw his face drop for a moment. I knew that he was wrung out, that he had reached the end of his journey, and that I should have been at the end of mine, too. But by the end of that week, I had an appointment with the miracle doctor and I was back on the bus, both literally and figuratively.
One of my last lightbulb moments came when Mr. Fab’s first grandchild was born. That passing of the motherhood torch to the next generation served to tell me that it was time for my journey to end. I had done all I could, motherhood wasn’t going to happen for me, and I had to let it go.
In between these events, and even after I was sure I would not be a mother, there were many moments of doubt, of second-guessing, of what-ifs. But for every step backwards, I took two steps forward toward recovery, and then three, and then four, until the backward slips became fewer and eventually stopped.
I imagine each of you has a similar story of realization and doubts. What were your “lightbulb” moments and how did you finally know it was time to stop?
My podcast interview with Cathy will be out in April. I’ll look forward to sharing it with you here.
Thankyou for mentioning that you needed to make that decision several times. We did too. I don’t think I have clear exact moments to talk about. Each time it was such a deep unhappiness or anxiety or depression that led us to quit. It’s very much an ongoing decision for me. Several times when I was on a trip or doing something fun – I would look back on my unhappiness and the baby fixation I had in my daily life at home and a received a few rare moments of clarity that I didn’t want to live like that all my life… so came home with determination to change that.
It wasn’t a miracle change and could magically accept my childfree life but step by step I’m getting there. I keep celebrating the little steps… and the little victories. I also allow myself to feel the sad and the hurt. I remind myself it’s like mucking through the ravine and gulleys on the way to the mountaintop.
Compared to many on this page, my infertility bus ride was rather short. But both my husband and I spent the 4 years on that bus very aware of what we were doing, and for the most part let logic drive that bus. We spent the first two years trying to find out WHY. After finding out WHY…it took two more years to realize it wasn’t going to happen for us. We hopped off that bus and have spent the last 4.5 years walking though life.
This is an interesting topic. I started to think about stopping when I was given very low chances of success for IVF (5% approx). I was quite clear-headed about the fact that I would not pump myself full of drugs if it had a 95% chance of failing. But I then had to wrestle with whether to continue trying with donor egg or adoption. At that stage I started to read the books that were available then – especially Silent Sorority by Pamela Tsigdinos (http://silentsorority.com/book-introduction/), and Lisa’s book (https://www.lifewithoutbaby.com/books/im-taking-my-eggs-and-going-home/) and had my big lightbulb moment then. It was a massive revelation to me that I could allow myself not to carry on trying until I collapsed or was bankrupt, or both – I could just stop, and get on with living. I recommend these books for anyone in a similar position, they helped me a lot.
Both of those books switched my outlook. I didn’t want to be a drifter anymore. Also, of the six reasons to have a family, my husband and I realized we wanted a biological child and knew it couldn’t happen. Adoption was not the path we should be taking.
Now we have moved states and are looking forward to adventures but I still look back regularly.
In my case, it was last year after my D&C due to thick lining of the uterus. I am 52 years old now and despite being ready to try to conceive ( according to the gyn), the right person hasn’t arrived yet so I guess this is it.
{Brief bio: I was married 5 years and never got pregnant. Then I got divorced.}
The year 2016 was the beginning of my healing process: I am now in the stage of sadness but moving on and forward.
As always, I keep you in my prayers ♥♥
You are not alone.
You don’t know how much your words mean to me. Finally somebody who is not giving advice, judging or ignoring my feelings. Thank you, thank you, thank you !! from my heart !
I knew it was time to stop when I had nothing left to give to the process. I had become a shell of my former self. What gave me the courage to stop was reading other infertile women’s books and blogs. They “gave me permission” to stop. Their words let me know it was okay to stop. They also educated me on how often fertility treatments do not result in pregnancy. Without them I probably would still be thinking, “Well, maybe it will work the next time…” I’ve never enjoyed gambling and I am normally very practical. I realized I was going against my own personality as I continued to pursue unsuccessful treatments. I will be forever thankful for the great women who came before me and shared their stories publicly. I am now working on building a different life for myself, and for the first time in a long time, I am really looking forward to the future!! 🙂
When we started infertility treatment, I quickly realized this was a very slippery slope that could easily take over our lives and eat up our savings, with very little guarantee of success. How far did we want to pursue this? We went to see an infertility counsellor, and she suggested setting a limit, even if we revisited it later. So we agreed to three cycles of IUIs with injectable drugs. We reached that limit, and I was thinking, “well, maybe ONE round of IVF…” — but what made me realize this really WAS the end was when I started having debilitating anxiety attacks after the last one failed. I thought I was having a heart attack at first. It was awful, and it made me realize that, much as I wanted a child, I could not do this anymore and remain sane. So we walked away, and while I wish things had turned out differently, I’ve never really second guessed that decision.
I am new to accepting that I need to move on. After being pregnant and suffering a miscarriage, 5 years have passed of “trying”. Unexplained infertility is my diagnosis. We have tried different treatments but I draw the line at IVF. I have spent the last years hiding my sadness and not talking about my infertility, trying to remain hopeful while suffering disappointment after disappointment. I knew I needed to move on at the 5 year anniversary of my miscarriage, though I have been slow to make the steps. My husband and I have explored other options, such as adoption, but for now, we want to focus on each other and being happy, enjoying all the moments life does give us. As supportive as my husband is, I can still feel alone in this struggle so I am so thankful to have found this site, and read these books. I don’t feel so alone anymore.
I just came to mine this month. I’d gone through 5 rounds of Clomid/Letrozole and never came close to ovulating despite escalating doses. I was miserable, uncomfortable, and not at all ready to put my body through the next step. For a couple weeks, I felt such relief, but finding about 3 pregnancies in two weeks has left me raw. I think the finality of this is setting in. I’m so glad I found y’all. The sharing is so appreciated.
This is the first time I’ve ever posted on a site like this, and am feeling grateful for other women sharing their stories just as I’m starting to realise that babies aren’t going to happen.
I’m 37. I’ve always wanted children, miscarried following an IUI ten years ago, now with a different partner. We’ve been trying month after month for a year and a half. Reached IVF stage and was overdosed and became very unwell, so stopped that path. Now pursuing natural methods, but my sanity is being tested and I need to stop altogether soon. I’ve completely lost myself. I don’t know how to move forward or find purpose beyond having a family. I feel there’s no context to my life any more.
Looking forward to receiving my copy of Life Without Baby.
Hi Chloe,
I’m glad you found us here. I’m so sorry to hear all you’ve been going through. I hope you’ll continue reach out in the comments and in the private community, so you don’t have to go through this alone. -x-
Thanks, Lisa. Probably should’ve posted this elsewhere… oh well, still finding my way around. 🙂