As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Grieving is not a rational act, although I sense many of us try to treat it as such. “If I act ‘as if’…if I will myself to…today will be different!” And then we get hit with a fresh wave of loss and feel as though all of our sanity is washed away.
Ann B.* understands this all to well. Even though she and her husband made very reasoned choices about why they are childfree, she continues to be knocked down by the weight of her lost dreams and to feel ashamed of her sadness.
I get that. I think you do too.
Ann’s hopes for the new year may sound a lot like yours. If you’ve been in her shoes, I hope you’ll share some of your journey with her in the Comments. If you’re in her shoes today, I hope Ann’s words remind you that you are not alone.
I want to wish you all a Happy New Year!, but that doesn’t feel quite right. Instead, my wish for you is that this new year comes with healing moments of gratitude, grace, and peace.
LWB: Describe your dream of motherhood.
Ann: I always wanted to be a mother. I work in elementary school education. I am surrounded by children in my personal and professional life. Most of all, I wanted to hold to my husband’s child in my arms. It was not to be.
LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?
Ann: Chance and choice. By chance: I have a medical condition, which, when well-controlled, does not interfere with my ability to live a full and happy life. By choice: I decided that the risk to my health (of pregnancy, which may exacerbate my condition), the risk to a fetus of birth defects (caused by medication I take for the condition), and the risk to my husband (of potentially caring for an unwell wife and a baby with special needs) was too great. We consulted many doctors and, ultimately, realized that having children was too risky.
LWB: Where are you on your journey now?
Ann: I am in denial about the need to grieve the loss of motherhood. I feel ashamed of my sadness, which comes in waves. I don’t believe I deserve to grieve because this was my decision, and life does not owe me anything. I know that life is full of hard choices and varying circumstances. I choose to stay busy to keep the depth of sadness at bay.
LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?
Ann: It changes. I go through phases of mourning losses. For example, never experiencing pregnancy or childbirth, never naming a baby, never seeing my husband’s character strengths passed on, never feeling pride at a concert, and the lack of rituals/milestones that accompany children. Other times, I feel less significant, less loving, less generous, and less deserving than women who balance the demands of motherhood. I find myself apologizing and downplaying my life experiences in conversation with mothers.
LWB: What have you learned about yourself?
Ann: I’ve learned that feelings are illogical and can’t be controlled by planning, research, or intellectual reasoning. It’s possible to feel guilt and shame about something that I still believe was the right and responsible decision. I’ve learned that feelings of loss will keep resurfacing until I am brave enough to face them and feel them.
LWB: What’s one thing you want other people to know about your being childfree?
Ann: “I have the humanity, compassion, and time to be your village. I have skills, experience, and knowledge to support your parenting journey. Don’t underestimate my capacity to love or serve your family. Please trust me and let me lighten your load.”
LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”
Ann: “No”. Sometimes, this is followed by an awkward beat of silence because I haven’t prepared a short, socially appropriate 10-word explanation. I don’t want to make others feel that they have caused offense. I know it is a form of small talk; it is a friendly, genuine inquiry. I want to honor their intentions and guide the conversation to a place that is comfortable for all. However, I’m not there yet. I feel pain every time I hear the question.
LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?
Ann: I would like to face my grief and stop denying the pain. I would like to use the grieving process to move towards healing.
*We allow each contributor to choose another name, if she wishes, to protect her privacy.
What are your hopes for yourself in this coming new year? We can all benefit from hearing about your experiences, plus we’d like to support you. Please visit the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire, and consider sharing your story with women who truly understand what you’re going through.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
Thank you for sharing your story, Ann. I can relate somewhat as I have chronic back pain and feared that carrying a child and birthing a child would prove to be too much for my back to handle. I feared that I would be debilitated and wouldn’t even be able to be there for my child, thus, just as you stated, putting all of the burden on my husband.
We got married and tried to TTC right around the time my pain was at its worst, and I had a lot of trepidation about even trying. We did hold off so I could try and get some relief through treatment and medications. I did find some relief for a while after putting TTC on hold, and was able to try for a year or so, but the pain has gotten worse over time and sometimes I feel that is why we never got pregnant. Perhaps my body just knows I couldn’t handle it.
I also related with feeling less significant at times in relation to mothers. I feel like my opinions don’t count, especially with anything having to do with opinions about child behavior, despite my background in psychology.
I wish you the courage and strength so that you can face your grief as you stated you wish to. I wish you the best in the New Year, I hope you find a way to move forward.
Oh, thank you, Jenn, for sharing your physical & emotional experiences so openly. I so appreciate our commmonalities and your very kind wishes. Thank you for reaching out & validating our shared paths. You are very wise; our bodies often know their limits. I hope your year ahead is filled with good health & the pain is controlled. Warmest wishes to you, for a peace-filled 2018.
I absolutely LOVE this line from your story– “I have the humanity, compassion, and time to be your village. I have skills, experience, and knowledge to support your parenting journey. Don’t underestimate my capacity to love or serve your family. Please trust me and let me lighten your load.”
I could not have said this better myself! As a childless not by choice woman, I have embraced my roles as aunt and host mom ferociously. I love the kiddos in my life, so I do not identify as childfree. And your quote says exactly what is on my heart.
Thank you for sharing your story. I pray that you are able to embrace your emotions in 2018, process through the grief, and begin healing. I’m so glad you found this childless community to help support you on this journey.
Thank you for taking the time to connect, Brandi! The children in your life are so very fortunate to have your love and dedication. It is beautiful to hear the many, varied ways that we can engage with young people and build them up with love.
🙂 Thanks for your kind words, Ann!
Brandi, I absolutely love your comment, “As a childless not by choice woman, I have embraced my roles as aunt and host mom ferociously. I love the kiddos in my life, so I do not identify as childfree.”
Brandi, I am childless both by choice and circumstance and I identify as “childfree”. But I too have embraced my roles as aunt and host mom. In addition to that, I relish my roles as spouse, daughter, sister, boss (at work), musician, and mentor.
Susan, I think you show that we are so much more than whether we have kiddos or not. We have so many roles and offer so much to this world!
And whether we utilize the term “childless” or “childfree” is a personal choice–one which helps us to accept and express part of our identity.
I am so grateful to be a part of this community where we can share openly and honestly!
My wish for this 2018 is that people have more compassion towards those unable to conceive.
Praying for all of us !!!
What a powerful wish. May we each experience compassion, and offer it generously. Lots of thoughts to you, Analia.
dear Ann,
thank you for sharing your story.
Wishing you all the best in 2018!
kind regards from Slovenia.
Klara
Thank you Ann for sharing your story – like you I shared my story to start the healing. It has helped me – it is difficult to face and the grief still comes in waves. I can honestly say though when you face it head on and allow yourself to feel everything you feel – all the losses. The light does then come back into your life. I also love Analia’s wish for compassion for us from our friends and family. However, I think few people are able to step into our shoes and realize the depths of our losses (it took me a number of years to acknowledge it and more to overcome it) and I think it will be part of my onward journey forever. So I’m wishing this year that I don’t rely on the understanding of others but allow my own understanding and the comforting words of everyone here to keep me on the road to happiness and acceptance. All the best to you Ann and thinking of you.
Jane, I absolutely love these words of wisdom that you shared…
“I’m wishing this year that I don’t rely on the understanding of others but allow my own understanding . . . to keep me on the road to happiness and acceptance.”
I realized that I did not really come to acceptance until I relied on my own understanding rather than the acceptance and understanding of others. We all must make peace with our situations, but that can only come from within…
“I have the humanity, compassion, and time to be your village. I have skills, experience, and knowledge to support your parenting journey. Don’t underestimate my capacity to love or serve your family. Please trust me and let me lighten your load.”
Very well said, Ann.