Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Our Stories: Wendy

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

As soon as I finished reading Wendy’s story, I sent her an email: “I understand.” Oh, how I understand. I’ve felt all the anger and bitterness, I’ve raged at how unfair Life has been, and I’ve experienced that same glimmer of hope when I finally realized I was not alone and found the courage to reach out for help.

I hope you’ll share some words of encouragement and compassion to Wendy in the Comments, and please take a moment to acknowledge that the Comments written by other LWBers are meant for you too.

Sending out extra love to all of you today. ♥Kathleen

 

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

Wendy: Circumstance. Married at 24, tried three rounds of AIH [artificial insemination by husband] at 27 (what was recommended before you consider trying IVF), found out I had Hodgkin lymphoma at 30. Decided to try adoption, but was told after a few steps in that, because I was in remission from cancer, I couldn’t adopt for seven years. We sold our house and went travelling around Australia for a couple of years. When we came back home, I was feeling unwell, so I went to doctors who thought I might be pregnant. I got excited, then had a test to discover I had fibroid so big I had to have a hysterectomy at 37. I had the hysterectomy and recovered in the maternity ward. (There were no other beds available, even with a request from me.) It was pretty gut-wrenching seeing mothers with babies! I asked the hospital for my womb so I could bury it myself, and they agreed, but my husband was not happy with my decision. From there my marriage broke up, and we divorced when I was 40.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Wendy: I moved interstate at 40, and I am remarried to a man with four teenage children who I feel I keep at arm’s length. I am at a point now, at 53, where I realise I had no counselling or grief support during the whole process for over 25 years. My personality has changed. I get angry and depressed. I get annoyed when people say “You have four stepchildren, you should be happy.” They just don’t get it. Yes, my stepchildren are loving, but they are not mine. They have a mother, and I will never have a mini me. I have come to a point where I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I need to actually grieve and have someone understand. So, thank you for reading this.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Wendy: I thought I could be strong and cope on my own and keep it inside, but I can’t. I am a strong woman, but I was too stubborn. I should have asked for support a long time ago, which makes me wonder how much better I would have felt earlier/now.

LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”

Wendy: I still haven’t worked that one out. It depends on the person asking. If they seem genuine, then I am more genuine with my answer.

LWB: What is the best advice you’d offer someone else like you? (or What advice would you like to give to your younger self?)

Wendy: Get help and support asap. Talk to someone who understands. Don’t wait 25 to 30 years and become bitter, angry, or depressed.

LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)?

Wendy: Xena, Princess Warrior.

LWB: How has LWB helped you on your journey?

Wendy: I have been able to express my feelings to others who have been through similar.

LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?

Wendy: I am finally seeking out help to grieve.

 

I hear again and again from contributors what a healing experience it is to answer these questions and share their stories with other readers who truly get what they’re going through—and who rise up to offer support and encouragement. Won’t you consider sharing your story? Visit the Our Stories page for more information and to download the questionnaire. I hope to hear from you soon.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is so grateful to be part of this community of wise, loving, and brave women.

 

 

Comments

  1. As a young reader of LWB I feel very connected to the early parts of your story Wendy. My husband and I received news that things would be complicated for us to conceive around the age of 26. I appreciate your insight about finding people to support and grieve with. It is difficult to reach out for help and be vulnerable with others, but it is such an important step. I hope that you are able to continue to find the support that you need.

  2. I understand with the whole adoption thing. My husband has CF and would be listed as a sick parent even though he has what is considered a mild form of CF. It is just frustrating all around. Once we made the decision to stop trying, I made it my mission to find other women like me. I belong to this group and a group that is affiliated with my church. They have been a big help.

    It is okay to grieve and protect yourself. Sometimes you have to come first.

  3. I so hear you. It is always the little moments of mums interacting with their kids that get to me.
    I hope the counselling helps and you can find some sort of peace.

  4. Totally get you. But you have to let that anger go. It will eat at you. So sorry to hear all this. Life is so tough.

  5. Hugs of compassion, understanding and support. You’ve been through so much, and it sounds like you are now on the brink of heart mending grieving and healing. Wishing you all the best on your brave journey.

  6. Even though parts of our stories can be different, the emptiness, and grieving the loss of that dream is sad, and gutwrenching and real. The best thing I have done for myself is to allow my feelings g about this no matter how they sound. I know here people will understand. Sending you a big cyber hug, and prayers for you . No matter how you feel you are not alone.

  7. Thank you for sharing your story. I admire you for getting support to process the experiences you have had. Too often I think we say ‘I’m fine’, only for emotions to later bubble to the surface.

  8. Realizing the need to grieve is a huge step forward – at least it was for me. The late 30s/early 40s were rough and it was about five years ago that it all came to an unexpected boiling point. At the time, my husband had a job where he left very early and for a long time, I would spend time, sitting in the dark before I had to get ready to go to work, reading a lot online (which is how I found LWB), and most of the time, had tears just streaming down my face. Rinse and repeat the next day.

    As hard as it was, it was what I needed to go through and although I still have days when I get the blues, I am glad I did the work to acknowledge my grief because I am much more at peace today then I was 10 years ago. And more importantly – I know I am not alone. As you start this journey, I hope you are able to find that as well.

  9. I’m so sorry you’ve been through this, but I’m so glad you’ve decided to grieve, which is really the first step to healing. You’re not alone in this. And all of us here get it.

    No, being a step-mother isn’t the same, and it is silly when people suggest it is. But it could still be wonderful and full of love (along with being really hard, I imagine), within the constraints of that relationship. I admire you for doing it. Just as I know being an aunt isn’t the same at all, but it is still special, for both me and hopefully for my nieces/nephews.

  10. my heart goes out to you and support from our side as we understand .. wishing you all beautiful things in life praying for you

  11. Wendy, you are so brave to share your story with such raw, honest emotion. It is a huge leap when we realize that we need support and we are willing to seek it. I pray your healing continues throughout this year. I’m sorry for the circumstances that brought you here, but I am grateful that you are a part of the tribe!

    • Thanks to everyone who sent beautiful encouraging words, made me cry when I read every one of the comments. Thank you all for being there and understanding. Love and light to you all. I am slowly coming out of the fog. Xxx

  12. Part of my story is similar to yours Wendy…I work at the hospital where I had my ovary removed on my 38th birthday (after years of trying to get pregnant, then ovarian cyst rupture, and eventually childlessness). I was mixed in with the postpartum moms when I was post op….more than once, months and years after surgery, I was asked in the hallway of my hospital “how is your baby?” by the RNs and techs that cared for me at the worst time in my life. That was always a knife in my heart…

    • So sorry Carrie – what a huge ordeal to go through. I’ve always found it incredulous that the IVF ward was on the same level as the maternity ward at our clinic – i don’t think its necessary either, there are many wards in a hospital – some sensitivity can’t be that difficult. Thinking of you

  13. Hi Wendy – you have definitely found the place to start grieving and healing. Sharing your story is, I feel the hardest part. There is lots of support here from everyone who really understands. Thinking of you.