There are two questions I get asked frequently: How did you come to terms with not having children, and how long did it take?
The answer is something akin to “how long is a piece of string and how many knots can you tie in it?”
Believe me when I tell you that if I could write down ten easy steps to making peace with being childfree-not-by-choice, I’d do it, but the answer isn’t that simple. Yes, there were many things that happened along the way that helped me make some peace, but it took closer to 10,000 steps than ten.
Writing down my story was hugely cathartic, venting about the injustices on this blog helped, too. Realizing I wasn’t alone in this and that people like you were out there wanting to talk through the minefield has helped immeasurably. Drawing a line in the sand and saying, “This is where that chapter of my life ends and this is where I start healing” also helped. And frankly, telling myself a big fat lie that I was better off not being a mother actually helped me to realize that in many ways I was. Setting new goals, appreciating the benefits of not having kids, and allowing myself to feel bitter and badly treated when I needed to. All these things helped.
I don’t think there’s a formula for working your way through this, and it’s definitely a journey of making forward process and dealing with inevitable setbacks.
As for how long the process takes? How long is that piece of string? It’s been three years for me and I consider myself largely at peace with my situation. I have closed the door on the idea that I will have children someday and most days I’m good with it. Everyday it gets a little better and a little easier. Some days there will be reminders of what I’ve lost and sometimes a flicker of a thought of “what if…”
The truth is, in many ways, I expect this piece of string to go on forever. The experience of infertility has changed me. It is one of the most significant and life-changing events of my life, and I don’t think the repercussions of that will ever stop reverberating. It doesn’t mean I won’t find harmony and even happiness in this new life – I already have – but I don’t expect this journey of coming-to-terms to ever fully end.
I love the title of this post!
Very well said.
Thank you for this post. This is so timely for my husband and I. Our infertility journey ended last January; and I turned 40 a week ago. I had dreaded that birthday especially because it marked such a significant milestone ~ it really is the end. I felt such a peace though. My husband and I celebrated, I was coming to terms with how things had turned out. Then yesterday I saw a darling white haired 18 mo. old little boy and my peace was shattered. I was in a store, and it was all I could do to keep it together. I asked myself repeatedly “When will this ever stop hurting and is there anything I can do, any formula, to make it quit.” I’ve come to the realization that pain is part of the healing process and this is just going to take some time. :/
Just saw your blog. How pretty!
Thank you. 🙂
Dear Jenny,
Your post made me sob uncontrollably. I have never posted anything on the Internet and never googled infertility with regard to how other women feel about it. I’ve felt very alone with the denial, hope, loss of hope, more denial… etc. I will be 40 in 5 months and am dreading it. I always said 40 would be the cut off point and now it’s dawning on me that it’s round the corner and I can’t cope with that thought. To make it worse and I think this triggered my current state of raw feelings around it, my last friend has become pregnant after years of miscarriages and it seems it will go full term. Somehow it seemed like it would be easier if she also remained without children. So seeing your post although made me cry I think I might have released a lot of pented up emotion and it feels so good to know im not alone. My husband is wonderful but how can he really understand what I’m dealing with. My friends want me to try IVF but with endometriosis, my age and my husband’s count being average. I don’t know if I want to get all hopeful again. We found out two years ago after 3 years of trying that both my tubes were blocked. I was told IVF was the only way, but I’ve secretly hoped it would happen naturally. I’ve buried my head, hoping it would go away and by some miracle I would never age and would stay in a perpetual state of maybe and …there’s still time. But no it’s not happening and as lots of you have said it’s very draining having this huge elephant in the room the whole time. Time to start the process of healing. Love to you all. x
Very true. I always try to remind others in this situation that time is the best healer, and that Rome wasn’t built in a day — you can’t change an entire lifetime of expectations, plans and dreams overnight. Everyone is different, of course. I found that, even after we “officially” stopped ttc when I was 40, I secretly hoped for that miracle baby for several years afterward. It took a pregnancy “scare” several years later for me to realize how far I had come — I felt like I had just started adjusting to the idea of childfree living, and here was my body jerking me around again.
Basically, the further away from ttc I get, the better I feel about it. Getting over 45 & then 50 really helped, I think, because at that age, people generally stop asking about it & you know what a longshot even a “miracle” pregnancy would be. Finding support online, first on message boards & then on blogs, was also a hugely helpful.
But you’re right — I don’t expect I will ever be fully “over” this. Some days are better or worse than others, but not a day goes by when I don’t find myself thinking in some way about infertility, pregnancy loss and childlessness.
I wish I could draw that line in the sand and close this chapter of my life, but that’s difficult to do with 10 frozen embryos left. Hopefully we can make a decision one way or another in the next year or two. Sometimes it’s on the forefront of my mind and I find comfort in blogs like yours. Other times I need to escape and don’t read any blogs/forums on the topic of infertility. Too bad society never truly lets you escape.
No society doesn’t let you escape as triggers are always around waiting to get you!
I’m just starting my journey, I’m very glad to be forearmed with the knowledge that this will take time. Although given the cyclical nature of it all maybe the best instructions are “lather, rinse, repeat.”
Reblogged this on A Chick Blogging About Eggs and commented:
Accepting a child-free life is something I’ve never tried, but I’m pretty sure that’s due to weakness rather than determination to battle against fate.
It’s possible that I may still have to learn these 10,000 steps to being happily childfree, so it’s good to know that when the time comes, I’ll have inspiration.
This is so very true and some of the steps you have taken have helped me too lately.
It will be one year May 9th that we received our final BFN. March 28th of this year, I drew a line in the sand and said; today I will start living my life again. Since that day, things just seem easier for me. That’s not to say that I still don’t have bad days, but the bad days don’t seem to last as long. My husband and I both have that date ingrained in our brains and when I am blue he reminds me of March 28th, and I am able to think of the positives in my life and not focus on the negatives.
I also just recently started a blog. I am not much of a writer, in fact, not too good at it, but I have found that just putting my feelings down in words has helped me so much. Also, and probably the most beneficial to me during this journey has been reading others stories of infertility and their journey along the way.
I realize the pain will always be with me and not a day goes by that I don’t think of infertility, but as I am getting older (I will be 43 in June), I think it will get easier. I still get asked if we have children, but I am not getting asked when we plan on having children as often. It’s easier to say no to the first question, but having to answer the second question has always been a bit trickier.
Writing is helping me quite a bit as well. Don’t worry about whether what you write is good for anyone else or not, use it for you. I think you’ll find that you’ll reach other people as long as you are authentic.
We didn’t have a specific date where we drew a line in the sand, but one day as we were preparing for our second try at IVF I sat down and wrote all the negative thoughts I was thinking. I can’t remember how many times I had said to myself that day “I don’t want to do this anymore.” My husband and I printed out my list and posted it on the mirror in our bedroom. Then we decided to quit. Whenever I panic, wondering if we did the right thing, I go back and read the list. It is always on my mind too. My thoughts never stray far from what happened and I have to discipline myself not to rehearse them trying to make sense of it all.
Jenny, this was really smart, I think. It’s so easy to talk ourselves into and out of things, but writing it down really cements those thoughts. This is great advice.
It felt really important to ‘draw a line’ under trying for children, as you said in this post. I’m very literally drawing lines about my experiences in my own blog (I draw comics). My ‘line’ was also reaching the age of 40. It felt like I couldn’t spend another moment wondering.
So here’s my question: when are you okay being around pregnant friends and family members? My sister in law is pregnant and I’m so happy for her, but I cannot fathom being around her, and seeing her belly, and all her excitement. Definitely one of the hardest things I’m trying to get used to… I fear alienating her, I just… can’t.
This is really tough. My sister got pregnant and had a daughter at 42, four years after I had had to stop ttc, and when I had thought I was recovering. Spending Christmas with her and her bump wasn’t easy. But it would have been much harder three years earlier, and it would be (theoretically) much easier now.
I wonder if you can talk to your sister-in-law? Explain that you’re happy for her, but that her pregnancy reminds you of what you don’t/can’t have, and so at times you might get emotional. Explaining that it is not a reflection on her or your feelings about her. Perhaps both of you accepting that you might cry sometimes?
Or when you are actually with your sister-in-law, arranging with your husband/partner ways to ensure you can escape – when/if it gets too hard, you have a pre-determined signal and excuse to be able to leave? Sometimes knowing you can escape makes it easier to endure a situation.
Can I say I also suspect her child might end up being very special to you. And that when you see the baby, you might realise that it wasn’t her baby you wanted (I know you know that, but sometimes realising it is a gut thing), but your own, and so it might feel a bit easier to be around them.
Sorry this is so long – it’s just I feel for you.
Thank you do much for your comments!! I did write her a letter explaining that I love get and I’m happy for her, but I can’t be around her belly. It’s funny, I think I will be okay once she has the baby; I think I’ll be able to see her then. I’m afraid I’d break down if I saw her now; sometimes it’s really hard at church, with strangers..! *sigh* thank you so much for listening and answering. Up until now it’s felt like such a lonely journey.
Wow I’m sorry, didn’t bother to double-check my spelling on that one. I meant to say that I wrote her and let her know that I was very happy for her, but couldn’t see her.
Hi Andrea…I totally understand what you are saying. My husbands best friend and his wife just had a baby 4 weeks ago. She told me she was pregnant one month after we got our final negative pregnancy test. She wasn’t even trying. My life stopped for the entire time she was pregnant. I saw her only two or three times in the nine months – I did everything to avoid her. I was so envious or her. I hated the attention she would get from everyone, I hated seeing her belly grow… – I didn’t attend her baby showers. Nothing! I tried to explain to her my feelings, thinking she would understand but that did not happen. She ran to my mother-in-law, telling her what a horrible person I was to let her baby be the reason for ruining this friendship. My husbands entire family was mad at me because they didn’t feel I was dealing with my infertility the correct way. I was told that I should be living vicariously through my husbands wife and her pregnancy. It was a horrible nine months. Once the baby was born, I felt this weight lift from my shoulders…I can’t explain it, but I am slowly getting my life back. Ive only seen the baby once, and it was hard, but not nearly as hard as seeing G as she was going through her pregnancy.
Don’t feel guilty for the way you feel and the way you deal with your sister in law. She will understand, and if she doesn’t now, then that’s okay too. She will eventually get over it. Take care of yourself. That is what I did. I took a lot of Sh*%, but everything is going back to the way it was before she got pregnant. Other then the hurt I still feel over the way the family reacted towards me, but in time, I know my anger and hurt will fade away.
Lisa, just wanted to say this is a great, and much-needed post. It is natural to ask how we “get over this” and look for tools or a way to fast forward through the pain, but there’s not.
For me, the first 18 months-2 years were the hardest, then again after about 4-5 years I noticed an improvement. Now I’m pretty much outside the child-bearing years (despite AF visiting regularly and very annoyingly!), and it is much easier.
Ladies, thanks for sharing your stories and advice. I think the only way through this is to keep going, accept whatever emotions come your way, and wait. As loribeth said, time is a great healer.
I’ve been happily married for 12 years, and was always hopeful that we would have a family. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen and I have experienced many of those same thoughts & feelings. Luckily, some days are better than others. While I have a full life without children…I am afraid that complete closure on infertility will always elude me. Thanks Lisa for writing about this topic and having a place for us to share our life experiences, thoughts & feelings.
Hi Everyone out there, I am now 53 and also know I will not have children, I blame myself and my partner who has a daughter to which we have never been very close, she has just had her first child and my partner is now a grand father
I am finding it very hard to except I will never be a mother, can anyone out there help me realise that although having a child is wonderful without them it is not the end of my life.
What a wonderful conversation we can have here. We are a ‘club’ that no one else can ever fully understand. How all consuming our hormones are when we’re going through the roller coaster of IVF etc. How complicated family relationships are as we try to maintain our self esteem and dreams for our futures. Our generation is different – infertility is so much more common! Maybe future women won’t have that fairy tale expectation that their lives will pan out with 4 children and the ‘white picket fence’. That bitterness that comes when we know that we can’t be the same as others. I am 55 and mostly at peace with childlessness (though as I write the word now, I tear up…) I have time to invest in my nieces and nephews- that’s all great. But at Christmas, or when we research the family tree and we are the couple that leads nowhere, it overwhelms me still. Fortunately my husband and I have a fabulous relationship, and I work with teenagers all day, so am happy in most respects to come home at the end of the day and not have to supervise homework and cook endless meals for kids who are tired. I used to reassure myself that most people experience pain at one point or another – the loss of a child through illness or accident would be even more challenging than never having had one at all. On a lighter note, we laugh that a child with our worst traits would have made parenting a nightmare. Most assume that their baby would have the best of you both, but it doesn’t always work like that as you know! I was glad I could draw a line in the sand at 40. I never aspired to the possibilities of giving birth beyond that age. That helped. Maybe 5 years and I was through the worst of it. Now I feel that I can truly empathise with my young friends who are dealing with the same issues.
Thank you for your post. It made me cry, but also made me feel hopeful.that I will be able to cry less and smile more.
We tried hard for a few years to have children in my mid 20s. The emotional pain of loosing one after another, well I don’t even think I need to try to describe it because after reading posts I think every one out there feels the same. Because one of the ectopic pregnancies was overlooked by the doctor I ended up in a life threatening situation in the ER having emergency surgery in the middle of the night. I remember it like yesterday. I was in an intense amount of pain for a long time, but I thought if there was a chance they could save the baby I didn’t want to mess it up with a pain medication. There were so many “We don’t know”s that night; no one seemed to have the answers. Why I was in such pain? Was the pregnancy ectopic? How could they over look this? Why did I faint in the hall at the ER? The ER doctor called my fertility doctor and there was discussion and confusion. I was scared and the doctors I had come to trust so much were not providing any answers. I was a premed in college, I knew the kind of awful things that can happen in surgery from tired doctors at the ER. My doctor finally arrived around 2 AM and told me it was indeed an ectopic pregnancy in my left tube about to rupture – something he assured me would never come to because we were so “on top of it.” However, the left tube was my “bad tube” he had wanted to remove before a previous surgery, but I had asked him to leave it. I really didn’t want to feel like less of a woman. Now I was kicking myself because he had told me how good my right tube was and his concerns about this happening in the left tube and here it was, all because of my pride. “I should’ve listened to you. Then this pregnancy may have made it.” I finally admitted to my doctor who had been at the receiving end of all my pent up anger to myself for the past year over my inadequacies as a woman. He didn’t offer the “I told you so” I had expected, but rather he said “You had no way of knowing, neither us I know what would happen.” After they confirmed there was no way to save the baby I agreed to accepting pain medication. I have never had pain medication before going under for surgery. When I awoke from the surgery I had an eerie feeling. I was groggy and totally pain free. I was expecting the same pain like from the previous surgery, I had none. My husband and a nurse were talking and seemed to not even care that I was awake. Then the nurse said to my husband she needed him to help fill out the death certificate. Then it all made sense, I had no pain, no one noticed me, and a death certificate – “Am I dead!?” I exclaimed. In a very matter of fact way my husband and the nurse both said, “no.” and continued what they were doing. Now I can giggle about my reaction, even though it was such an awful experience. My husband looked so down. We had been through this before, but he looked hopeless now. He sat next to my bed and looked down, “It was in your right tube, the good one. They were wrong. I guess they looked at the ultra sound backwards or something.” Really? Is that possible, to not know how to read an ultra sound, apparently anything is possible. But I was done. After years of tossing money in to this bottomless pot of heartaches there was no way I was going to go spend tens of thousands on IVF, another treatment that is sure to fail. It was just plain to see God clearly didn’t think I would make a good mother. That was my first misguided thought that landed me into depression, which was then followed by counseling, avoiding being around children or infants, then moving on to complete a masters program, and then a continued education class about helping survivors of a traumatic experience. That may be when it all really came together and clicked. A woman who escaped her burning apartment said “These people who you will be working with, who survived these disasters, they don’t want to hear ‘It will be OK.’ It won’t be OK. They will never be the same again. Their experience will change them forever. They can either repress it and suffer emotional problems, or they can accept it and use it. I used my experience to teach these classes, to help other survivors of natural disasters. They need to be able to use their experience to help others too, or it will eat away at them.” Even though she was talking about the people who would be my clients, I felt like she was talking right to me. This was really some thing my husband had been telling me to do for a while, but I didn’t want to hear it. Now I work with parents of children with disabilities and their babies and toddlers part time, I work at a school the other part. I have always loved children. But the most satisfying experience is being able to help a parent be a better parent, by helping them understand their child. When a friend shows concern about fertility I jump on it and offer my books and an ear. Sure they all get pregnant, but it is nice to get to be there to listen. I don’t bottle up my crazy thoughts. I need someone to bop me on the head and say “Oh yeah, God doesn’t think you could be a good parent? You can read God’s mind now?” My husband still holds out hope for when we can afford in vitro, especially since the adoption has drug out for 3 years with no end in sight. I don’t know how may times I have heard the paper work would be done in “one more month,” probably 36 times. I fear to be able to cope with my disappointment after attempting adoption I will have to reformat the entire foster care system! But in the mean time, I’m taking my experiences, my love for children, and making it work where it can.
Just found out that my second donor embryo transfer was unsuccessful. After three years including 5 failed IUIs & 3 IVF procedures. I was convinced that younger eggs would be the answer after trying for so long with faulty, old eggs of my own. I just knew, however, that this last round wouldn’t work & I had already decided that this would be the last try. Financially & emotionally it was getting too hard. Now its real… I’ll never be a mother. I can’t stop crying & don’t know how I’ll ever make peace with this. But even if I had unlimited funding, I’m not sure I could put myself through this again. I just don’t know how I’ll ever be able to be around all my friends with babies. I’ve been distancing myself from them because its so hard & I just feel more alone.
A friend of mine had a baby on 2012. I never met the baby. I met the baby on 2013 when he turned 1. I don’t how to her house. I cannot do it. I did not go to her baby shower. it is not easy. I simply cannot do it.
Hi ana
Sorry to hear that you feel that way. You feel like its not fair don’t you why should she have a baby when you lost out if that’s the reason why you cant go anywhere near her for now. Maybe you could pick things up when your feelings are less raw but if you feel like this then don’t go to see her for now if its going to upset you this much.
You feel its not fair don’t you and think why them and not me which is why you don’t want to be around them.
A few weeks ago I was about to cook a whole fresh chicken. I had placed the chicken in a bowl. I looked at that chicken on the bowl and it just reminded me of a baby on a bathtub. I know that for people that can have children this sounds crazy. But when you cannot have children the smallest thing can trigger your desire for a baby.
Why people cannot understand that adoption is not for you. Why people think that adoption is a magic wan that will remove all pain. Why people think that adoption will replaced the lost experience of giving birth, labor and joy. Why?
Its because they are ignorant as its something they don’t understand but adoption in no way is an easy option like some people think it is as the wounds of infertility will always be with you as you feel like its not fair the way you have been denied something so easy and natural yet others get it easy and those feelings of unfairness don’t just heal once you have a baby.
Why people do not understand how hard it is not to ever be able to say: honey am pregnant. I will never know how my husband will react. I will never know that joy, I will never see that look of joy in his eyes. I will never tell my mom, mom you are going to be a grand mother. I will never know how it feels to have life growing inside of you. I will never know. I will never know. I will never know. I will never know. I will never know. I will never know.
Ana
Its not fair is it?
We started trying at the age of 25yrs. I am now 43 with peri menopause. I went through all the fertility stuff. My first private ivf..I got pregnant…a few weeks lates…I wasn’t anymore. I still have the piece of paper that proves I got pregnant! We aren’t doing too good. I am at the stage where I get so angry at terrible parents. Friends that are so proud of their offsprings, i cry out why me and what the hell are you doing God?! I see only dispair for our future. Who will look after me when i am old?My faith has got so many knocks and bruises. My hope is on the next life. Maybe all the embroys we have lost in those test tubes are wee babies in heaven waiting for us to mother them when it is our time to leave this life.
Kirsty, I am so sorry you feel so much pain. I hope your heartache eases soon.
Kirsty, I have complete sympathy & understanding of where you are coming from. I am 45 and after 2 miscarriages (the 2nd pregnancy we were given a scan picture with a beating heart), 2 ivfs & 4 rounds of donor we finally went through 2 years of adoption process. After 6 months with our 21 month old ‘daughter’ they took her away 6 weeks ago.
I am a Primary school teacher & have always loved children so much, I just cant understand why life seems to have been so cruel. Like you, I don’t feel I have faith in anything anymore let alone the future, and just hope my next life is a little kinder with the family ive always wanted around me.
How wonderful to have found this website. It’s been 15 years since my first husband and I lost our son JT because he was born three months too early. Everything was looking promising until he developed infection at two weeks old. He lived 28 days. I was 20 at the time, my husband was 26 and we had no idea how to deal with this gigantic burden of grief laid in our lap. After another year, we divorced and the next five years following were filled with pain, bad decisions, and a second marriage to an emotional shark followed by a painful divorce three years later.
I always thought I’d have another chance to have babies, but now I’m 35, married to a wonderful man who is 45 and we’ve decided we don’t want to have kids. It took me about two years to make this decision, and my husband supported my decision either way. I love the string and knots analogy! So incredibly true, some of those knots get untied from time to time… I have what seems like 100 friends and family getting pregnant and having babies right now and what would have been my son’s 15th birthday just passed on the 24th.
Fortunately, I have a group of about 10 very close ladies who I can vent long Facebook rants to and they’re there for me. It doesn’t happen often at all, maybe every three years I feel like this. I’m looking forward to reading some more commonalities among us ladies who have to deal with being slightly outside the norm.
I have just found this website. I have just made the decision to draw that line. I have had 3 miscarriages, a premature menopause at 32 and a failed egg donation cycle. My heart and my relationship has suffered too much and I want to choose life instead. I am a doctor so see lots of adoring mothers and babies and some who don’t deserve to be. I listen to people moan about their pregnancy symptoms. I see my friends who I was pregnant with have their second and third babies and I have the most awful bump envy. That said I am ready to move on and take step one of my 10,000 and a slight lightness in my chest is palpable. I am ready to live and love and find the childless person I have the potential to be and hopefully be happy once more.
I’ve been looking for a web site just like this as I find it difficult to discuss my feelings with friends and family mostly because I couldn’t take the sympathy. I’m 40 next year and my husband doesn’t want children. I feel grief for the child I haven’t had and won’t have. I love my husband so I’m confused about my feelings which are often resentful. 2014 has been a difficult year because my brother and both of my closest friends had babies. So there is no escape. New Year’s Eve hit me hard because yet another year went by and I now start to wonder what the meaning of life is going to be for me. I need to accept it and move on but I can’t control the grief that appears suddenly often without warning. I can be strong while visiting friends or hearing like I did this weekend that my husbands best friends wife is 15 weeks pregnant but then later it will find me. I don’t like it if he see’s me upset as his comment is ‘you need to get over this’. So I usually walk the dogs it sit in the bathroom at night to release it.
54 and still grieving. My miracle never happened and you just don’t get over it. I now mourn for grandchildren, as everyone begins this phase of life. I hope d it would get easier but the line just moves ahead.
I’ve really been struggling today and just happened upon this website. My husband and I didn’t meet until I was 37 and I always wanted children. It’s like what my life always loked like when I was dreaming up my future. But when I was younger, I was not in a great relationship and when I came to realize how bad it was and got out I was in my 30’s. I didn’t want to raise a child by myself, I feel strongly that a child benefits from two parents. I could have had a child on my own or adopted on my own when I was single, but I didn’t because I wanted a family not to be a single parent. My husband is a wonderful man and I know I’m lucky in many ways but it can’t make the pain of this go away and I get so frustrated when people tell me about all the ways I am “lucky”.
I just turned 45 in December and that was always my cut off. I guess I was still hoping because when the doctor told me last week that I’m menopausal, it really sent me downhill. Then this morning, my cousin who is like a little sister to me called me very happy (as she should be) to say that she is pregnant. I offered all the congrats but immediately went to “how am I going to do this baby shower”? I’ve been avoiding baby showers for three years. I just don’t think I can do it and I know my family will not understand. Is it terrible that I am praying for appendicitis the day of her shower? To make matters worse, we had a miscarriage the week before she was getting married a couple of years ago and she knew about this as and we were preparing for her wedding she tells me that she donated eggs a few years before (for money) but she thinks it would be weird to that for me because it would be “too close”. She knows all the failures we have had and I just don’t understand how people don’t get it. I work with a lot of young females and it just seems like there is a new one every other month. Some days I feel like everywhere I look there is a “bump” and they all stand there rubbing them. I told a friend of mine, who is a successful member of AA, that it’s like if everywhere she went someone was putting alcohol in front of her in very appealing glasses and saying look at this, smell this, don’t you want some. It just feels like it won’t stop. I want to get beyond feeling envious, but it feels like its impossible.
I think I’m pretty together for the most part, but this is really sending me for a loop. I’ve talked to a colleague of mine and she is helpful, I just wish this would get better. I like that so many people here talk about how they really feel and I don’t feel so alone when I see what other people have written.
Hi again rose
Yes I get pissed as well when people tell me how supposedly lucky I am as well but it always feels that way when you have lost out on something its shoved in your face at every turn.
With regard to feeling envious its natural to feel that way as its the angry feeling of the unfairness of it all manifesting itself because you only wanted the same things and they got them and you didn’t and you feel its not fair. I think time helps with feeling envious but there’s not a lot you can do about it but take time to grieve and acknowledge what you have lost. Good luck!
With regard to the baby shower if you feel this way its best not to go. All you need to do is say no you have other plans that day and leave it at that.
My husband and I had been trying for a few years to get pregnant. I was 35 and waited for love, for him. He ended up getting a Vasectomy Reversal and then a year later, I had surgery to remove large fibroids. After both of our surgeries, we are done trying. He has low sperm counts and most likely its all scarred over. I am coming to grips with a child free life, but the depression is hard. I’ve been doing weekly acupuncture to help with depression and truly just miss what life was like before trying. I had another friend going through all this and she sent me a text last week letting me know she was 8 weeks pregnant. Thank God it was a text cuz I bawled. I told one friend who was like it just does suck and its okay to be sad for yourself. Then I told one other friend who was just so happy for our other friend, that she just truly missed my pain. It was nothing. That one kind of hurt. I hate being left behind. I don’t want to be bitter or alienate myself from my friends or not be part of their lives but I push myself into being okay with it to my own detriment. I don’t know how to move forward, to imagine a different life that does not feel empty or frivolous. I am still taking those first few steps and just see a super long rope in front of me that looks like Mt. Everest.
This is so hard but helps to hear other women in similar situations with the same feelings. I feel mean having no interest in baby showers Seeing children anywhere makes me feel like I am walking around in a trance in a world I don’t belong. It hurts. Truth is I love baby showers but I want to be the one this time. I won’t ever. I am 42 and not knowing if I should give up. I’ve heard many times I waited too long. This doesn’t help. I worry too that I will go from this to grieving for grandchildren. I hope the pain will fade but somehow I worry it won’t. Love the article. thank you