A Childless Woman

Warning, this post contains themes of pregnancy loss.

I often get asked if I have any children. I’m a 39-year-old woman who was told at the age of 15 that I will likely never naturally conceive. Fast forward to 2018, after some rounds of ovulation induction, the prognosis was that I would likely never be able to carry a pregnancy full term. For a number of reasons, my marriage broke down. I gave myself some breathing space and went onto the dating apps with the intention of letting my inhibitions go. I needed the wild beast in me to run free after being caged for many, many years.

When I left my marriage, I gave myself a few months to balance myself. I then took to a dating app to get myself out there again. I wanted something with no strings attached. I matched with someone who interested me in every way. His profile was interesting, and he was very, very good looking. I never believed he would have swiped right for me. We met up, and again a few times. There was a sense of safety in his arms, something that doesn’t come easily for me. Covid put an end to our interactions with us living on opposite sides of the city and the restrictions in place.

We met up again when restrictions lifted. I didn’t bother with protection as I hadn’t had a menstrual cycle in many months and with the knowledge that I needed fertility treatment, didn’t feel the need to take precautions. I trusted him also. I decided to have a coil fitted a few days after this interaction as I didn’t want to get myself into a situation, just in case we were to continue seeing each other. Well, a few weeks later, I truly believed I had another early miscarriage. I was bleeding, I passed a small clot. I am incredibly sensitive to my hormone fluctuations. I called him to share with him my experience.

I had lost a baby, or so I thought. Over the coming weeks I was feeling as though I was still pregnant, driving myself demented with each test coming back negative. Services were not running routinely. How can I call an early pregnancy unit, or any other person or medical practitioner to tell them I believe I am pregnant when the tests are coming back negative? Over the coming weeks I continued to live life normally. I was leaking fluid, though thought I had a urine infection and that my bladder was out of control. I was having a lot of cramping and bleeding. I thought my body was readjusting to a natural cycle after what I thought was already a miscarriage, especially with the negative pregnancy tests, I thought nothing of it.

I woke up one Monday morning in August 2020, something didn’t feel right. I checked to see what my body had passed through, expecting to see the remains of a heavy period on my hands. Shock hit as I now held in my hands a 7-week-old foetus.  That day changed me. Something of a miracle, I thought, that I was able to naturally conceive in the first place, though much shock in what I was faced with.

For years I tried to reason with what happened, but it still hits hard some days. I had already made peace that birthing a child of my own would not be possible when I finished fertility treatment in July 2019. I didn’t want this to be my only aim in life. My sense of purpose does not depend on my ability to reproduce. There are lots of children in this world already suffering. I needed some time out from tests, failed cycles, miscarriages, deep, deep pain. I needed to feel loved and held through it all. But I wasn’t. To be in a position I never thought was possible gave me the belief that anything is possible. Instead of harbouring grief, perhaps, now as I am realising all these years later, I moved through the following years with conviction, without fear.

My experience was a big drive in me starting Loving Light Healing Ltd. I felt very much alone at this point. Much had been taken from me. It was painful. I’m a person to adapt, to use my pain in turning it into something that will be beneficial for other, in sharing my experiences, being able to relate in many ways to those going through painful experiences, and in order for me to understand the world. Through this deeply traumatic and lonely time in my life, I threw everything into rebuilding my life, by giving grieving hearts and confused minds a space to release it all and make sense of the world.

This reflection comes from one of my clients asking at the end of the call if I have children. I explained that I am unable to conceive, and that I know my hair share of loss in this area. I went on to explain that not having children means I am more flexible in my schedule, as many of my clients ask to book in a session at very short notice. I am usually in a position to be able to accommodate. I spoke of my pain and heartache at the situation. That perhaps one day I will be able to form the loving relationship my longs for, and that this man will understand my situation instead of shaming me for it. I explained that it would be wonderful for this man to have children, but if not, I have already made peace with the cards I have been dealt. Fertility treatment is something I have no desire to explore again. Why, when there are so many children in this world facing difficult circumstances? I can see myself fostering one day, when my circumstances allow. I spoke of the pain and heartache during the times of loneliness, and how I often wonder, if any of my babies had made it into this world, how would they look and sound? What would their personalities be? Would I have been a good mother with my health challenges? What was, was meant to be, I know that much. My own mother wound needed to heal a little more.

There are times when I experience a huge wave of grief at not having any of those pregnancies make it full term. I also look at the set of circumstances I would be dealing with if they had. The personalities of those men. How those men were happy to abandon me time and time again when I was going through difficult times, so what makes me think things would be different with a baby in the mix?

My biggest realisation from those closest to me, through the deeply intimate conversations with my clients, and hearing general conversations when out in public, is that most of us children in an adult body. I also question, just because a body grows and our circumstances through adulthood change, does this mean that we should neglect the pain of our inner child? I like to take this view when I see those closest to me make terrible, painful choices. They are, in fact, children responding to a set of circumstances that their nervous system is unable to process. This isn’t an excuse to be on the receiving end of abuse, but it does provide a level of understanding.

We all have a different level of tolerance to pain, emotionally or physically, and I truly do believe that those who are used to chaos from a young age are more tolerant to being on the receiving end of disrespect. If is normal growing up. The thing that changes is the people we place ourselves around as we grow. The world becomes a mirror. People will treat you well, and there starts the process of questioning and readjusting. Once the seed is planted it will inevitably grow. The speed at which it grows depends on the level of resistance, the support a person engages with, and most importantly, who they are consistently in connection with.

Not being able to have children does not make a person any less valuable. It makes a person more available to look out for their adult friends, family and be more of a support than those without children may be able to offer. As much as I do wish things could be different sometimes, I love being the flexible person who can often be available at short notice to help when needed. I do sometimes get in my head and emotions. I call it the pity party, and I truly do believe this is a must attend on occasion.

I witness the difficulties those closest to me have in navigating their family dynamic, especially where children are involved. I see so many children being born out of a need to be loved, or for convenience. These children often grow up feeling unloved, unwanted and heavily burdened. Help repeating cycle of them growing up to carry this, unless they have at least one parent or other family member looking out for them.

We can never really predict exactly how am experience will play out. I have learned to trust that when someone I want to experience doesn’t come into fruition, it is because I wouldn’t have been able to cope with everything else that would come along with it. We can want a certain experience, but we don’t always know exactly what comes with that. What’s meant for us will not pass us by, even if we do desperately try to pivot away from a situation. I like to visualise the game of tug of war. The goal is to take the rope from the other team, but at what cost to your hands. Is the pain of friction burn worth it?  Do we give up because the shoer term sacrifice becomes too much? We never really know until we receive what we want in our hands.

Allowing some space for a situation to settle will always bring clarity. It may feel unsettling and uncomfortable when waiting for things to settle, but this is where you can bring focus back onto yourself. When something, or someone, does come back around, take not to how you feel after a while. Look at how your life starts shaping itself. Does it get better, or do things start feeling out of control, and start falling apart?

The universe is always sending us cues, usually subtle ones, but ultimately it is our choice to act on the warning signs or ignore them. Cause and effect. Every choice comes with a consequence. Some call is karma. It is your life, and only you can choose how to navigate it.