Childless – An Ocean of Tears and a Voice

And I sat on the shore
Watching the families
The mothers greatness and deep love
Fathers fountains of knowledge and abundance of affection

And I wondered

What if I’d have been chosen
To be a mother
To care for a child
My child
A million times more than I’d ever cared for myself

What if the mountains had realised that I too was strong enough of heart
Brave enough of soul
Overflowing with courage of the ocean
Capable to create a bond
Never to be broken

What if I’d been gifted a child
A moment so precious, tender
Instead of the loss
Empty womb
Dark spaces
Always checking
what I may have forgotten
something missing
Never awoken

I’ve learned to catch the water from my eyes
and replenish the sea
Strong tears are needed
For the heart to be free

Never knowing is destruction
Always wondering is pain
Emptiness is darkness
But I’ve learnt to smile
In these moments of rain

Infertility is a ****** some days

Infertility! Being childless is a subject I never wanted to write about and something I don’t often talk about. Yet, a few months ago I was given the chance of a lifetime. It came out of nowhere. It happened on the phone. Totally unexpected, I found myself in a conversation with a stranger when it took a turn and got very personal.

A young man had bought a sewing class for his wife. Like every year, I became THE PRESENT underneath a Christmas tree. It’s always feels very special.

But this year, months later, three weeks before the class started, the young man called and asked for a refund. I have no problem with it and when he tried to explain, somehow we started talking. He and his wife were in the middle of moving. “We are moving to New York, there is a doctor that might be able to help my wife,” he said and my heart skipped a beat.

He sounded so young. Life can be so cruel and I know diseases can hit you anytime. We cannot take life for granted at any age.

But it wasn’t a disease. They were trying to have a child. They had undergone numerous fertility treatments and nothing had worked so far. They were devastated and sad, they felt hopeless and worthless. Somehow during our conversation, he put me on speaker, and then I could hear his wife too. A shaky voice, further away, told me she was sorry.

“No need to be sorry,” I said and then it slipped out. “We are childless too,” I heard myself say.

“We have two dogs,” I added and laughed, in an attempt to cheer them up.

“How did you manage, if you don’t mind me asking,” it sounded like a whisper. I could hear the curiosity in her voice.

She didn’t give me time to answer and continued, “Society expects us to have children. Our families always ask if we are pregnant now.” It sounded all so familiar, wasn’t it just yesterday when we felt the same way?

“Fuck society!” I heard myself say. I said it loud and clear, a very dry statement and it surprised me. That’s not the way I normally talk but I meant it.

And then it spilled out of me. Something opened the floodgates and there was no more holding it in.

“Look, I have the most wonderful life so far, and it’s far from over,” I said and I meant it.

Looking back at the last thirty-five years, I can see a life that was worth living. I can see how fortunate I have been. A life full of memories. A life so full of love, adventures, ups and downs.

And that’s what I told her. Yes, it was hard at first. Doesn’t every little girl dream of a husband, children, a dog, a cat, and a house with a white picket fence. Aren’t all girls everywhere raised and trained to be good wives, moms, caretakers, maids, nurses, lovers, partners, housekeepers, cooks, chauffeurs, and managers of the families?

In my generation we were not raised to have careers, we were ALLOWED to have careers, but still everybody expected us to be mainly the perfect wife and mother at the same time.

We were young, just at the beginning of our careers and we didn’t have the money for expensive fertility treatments. We both underwent procedures and tests, just to find out that we both could have children but it didn’t work. “Perhaps his ‘swimmers’ are a bit too slow.” “You have a small kink in one of your ovaries,” But overall we were of child-making and childbearing age.

It didn’t happen. He got pills, and I took my temperature. We made scheduled love and went through the same disappointment month after month. Nothing!

It’s a nerve-wracking, heartbreaking cycle.

And then one day we had enough. We wanted to live again, without the heavy burden on our shoulders. We had long talks and decided that not having children was okay with us. “This world is overpopulated already, we don’t have to add to it,” even though we had intended to add to it.

It’s a nagging feeling inside a woman. Wondering why every other woman, even a useless alcoholic like my mother, could have children. Addicts and criminals can have babies, they bear children on the side of a field in Africa. It seems every young girl beside me could get pregnant. Was I worthless as a woman?

What about my husband? Was it him or me? What if it was me, should I ask him for a divorce?

Thoughts, mindless and mindful, hurtful and loving, circled through my mind -and his.

How can couples who should have children have them and we were punished by nature?

Why couldn’t I fulfill the most natural task of all?

Not meant to be! And fuck society!

Because it’s the society that makes you feel so guilty. We are supposed to multiply like rabbits, perhaps not by numbers, but not having children is considered ‘not normal.’ The churches are the worst. An institution run by men, telling women to stay home and have children. It has always puzzled me. Why do we give men control over the rights, dreams, and wishes of women?

We didn’t adopt because I was afraid. What if my mother’s genes were in me and I would be a terrible mom too. I had always wondered about that? Wouldn’t it be worse if the child would be adopted? What if I couldn’t love an adopted child the same? What if! What if! What if!

“You wanted to see the world, now you can.” That was the sentence that woke me up. My husband was right. I had studied languages and had degrees that allowed me to fulfill my wish to explore and conquer the world. Now I could sign up for jobs that would have me travel for weeks and months -and I did.

I saw the world. I spent weeks in Africa and Europe. I lived and worked in India for almost six months. The universe took one thing from me and gave me another. The ability to fly, wherever I wanted to, and a husband who didn’t have a problem with it.

I shared my life on the phone, with a woman I had never met.

“I have a great life and I am happy.”

Finding your purpose in life, that’s all that matters. Give your life meaning, make it well-lived!

“And now? You are older, isn’t it tough to see others with grandchildren?”

Is it?

“No, not at all. We have a good marriage and we are planning to travel when we retire. We have a fulfilled life and children and grandchildren don’t necessarily take care of you either.”

Would we be happier with children? I don’t know and we will never know.

I am at peace! Being childless was an adventure.

I will stay in touch with the young woman. I offered she could call me if she wanted to talk, and we had a few conversations already.

It seems I could help her. Maybe it’s not help, but more guidance. How to swim through a lake of tears.

Being called a “Childless Cat Lady” by the young inexperienced Hillbilly J.D Vance (Trump’s pick for Vice President if he might be elected again). How dare you Hillbilly! Write another book and throw dirt at your family. Father more little hillbillies, and stay away from politics! There you go!

I suppose he likes being called hillbilly the same way I like being called Childless Cat Lady.

We are Ladies! He got that right!