Guess they have branched out now....how about "What to expect when you don't know what the hell to expect?"
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
In limbo: "in an indefinite state; on hold....bordering hell" aka the infertility roller coaster and coping with recurrent pregnancy loss.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
I Will Wait
So it was time to pick a movie....Gerry suggested the The Odd Life of Timothy Green. Oh yes, I remembered seeing the trailer....I gave him a quick heads up that it is about a childless couple but he nudged to see it anyway - better than some others we have passed over lately like Friends with Kids and What to Expect When You are Expecting.
The couple grieves their inability to conceive a child and bury a box in the garden of all the traits they wanted in their son or daughter. That night a ten year old boy is "born" from the garden. We looked at each other and said "hey, we already planned to garden tomorrow!"
Okay spoiler alert if you want to see this movie.....so the child teaches the couple lessons that they are already meant to be parents but later he must "leave". The couple decides to adopt and in the last scene, the social worker brought them a little girl....and that's when my crying started...not the few tears that shed during a poignant scene or a sad movie, but the "built up, soft, shaky, slightly hyperventilating, release tears" I get on rare occasion when I think of my babies I have lost and how much I long for a child. Gerry said this movie is about hope and I nodded in agreement.
The next day we gardened. We had already bought a beautiful lilac tree for our patio. A few weeks ago, Gerry accidentally pulled out the two sonogram pics of "Puck", our first baby. He felt bad I had to see it again, but it was okay. There were some things we had kept such as my pregnancy test and those pictures. It was all we had really. The second time we got pregnant, they didn't give us pictures of the ultrasounds - likely in dire anticipation it would not be successful. The other pregnancies ended too early for pictures. I didn't know what to do with Puck's pictures and we aren't really a symbolic/sappy couple (so I thought) but thought maybe I would bury it someday (keeping a photocopy).
We took out the two pictures and I wrote on the back of one, Gerry wrote on the other. In my message, I also noted the dates all my babies were lost. We then laid them in the soil. It was harder than I thought and those tears came out again. In the movie, the couple had come to that point of acceptance, but we said to each other that we are not giving up. On the radio, Corey Hart's Everything in My Heart was playing which was nice. Then as we planted the tree, a new song came on...Mumford & Sons' I Will Wait (for you). It was actually quite uplifting and very fitting. I will wait to meet my babies one day, later joking that we'll have a truckload of kids up in heaven, but I will also wait to embrace my child - either born to me, through adoption, or grown from a garden. I will be strong, I will bow down, I will have hope. And I will wait, I will wait for you.
Well I came home like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of dust, which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun
And I'll kneel down; wait for now
And I'll kneel down; know my ground
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
So break my step, and relent
Well you forgave, and I won't forget
Know what we've seen and him with less
Now in some way shake the excess
But I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
Now I'll be bold as well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So tame my flesh and fix my eyes
A tethered mind freed from the lies
But I'll kneel down; wait for now
I'll kneel down; know my ground
Raise my hands; paint my spirit gold
Bow my head; keep my heart slow
'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
The couple grieves their inability to conceive a child and bury a box in the garden of all the traits they wanted in their son or daughter. That night a ten year old boy is "born" from the garden. We looked at each other and said "hey, we already planned to garden tomorrow!"
Okay spoiler alert if you want to see this movie.....so the child teaches the couple lessons that they are already meant to be parents but later he must "leave". The couple decides to adopt and in the last scene, the social worker brought them a little girl....and that's when my crying started...not the few tears that shed during a poignant scene or a sad movie, but the "built up, soft, shaky, slightly hyperventilating, release tears" I get on rare occasion when I think of my babies I have lost and how much I long for a child. Gerry said this movie is about hope and I nodded in agreement.
The next day we gardened. We had already bought a beautiful lilac tree for our patio. A few weeks ago, Gerry accidentally pulled out the two sonogram pics of "Puck", our first baby. He felt bad I had to see it again, but it was okay. There were some things we had kept such as my pregnancy test and those pictures. It was all we had really. The second time we got pregnant, they didn't give us pictures of the ultrasounds - likely in dire anticipation it would not be successful. The other pregnancies ended too early for pictures. I didn't know what to do with Puck's pictures and we aren't really a symbolic/sappy couple (so I thought) but thought maybe I would bury it someday (keeping a photocopy).
We took out the two pictures and I wrote on the back of one, Gerry wrote on the other. In my message, I also noted the dates all my babies were lost. We then laid them in the soil. It was harder than I thought and those tears came out again. In the movie, the couple had come to that point of acceptance, but we said to each other that we are not giving up. On the radio, Corey Hart's Everything in My Heart was playing which was nice. Then as we planted the tree, a new song came on...Mumford & Sons' I Will Wait (for you). It was actually quite uplifting and very fitting. I will wait to meet my babies one day, later joking that we'll have a truckload of kids up in heaven, but I will also wait to embrace my child - either born to me, through adoption, or grown from a garden. I will be strong, I will bow down, I will have hope. And I will wait, I will wait for you.
Well I came home like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of dust, which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun
And I'll kneel down; wait for now
And I'll kneel down; know my ground
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
So break my step, and relent
Well you forgave, and I won't forget
Know what we've seen and him with less
Now in some way shake the excess
But I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
Now I'll be bold as well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So tame my flesh and fix my eyes
A tethered mind freed from the lies
But I'll kneel down; wait for now
I'll kneel down; know my ground
Raise my hands; paint my spirit gold
Bow my head; keep my heart slow
'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
Friday, May 17, 2013
Lolo
Five years ago Gerry's dad past away from lung cancer. By the time he was diagnosed he was already in stage three with only a few months left. When we knew the time had come, I told Gerry that his Dad needed to hear that you will all be okay so he could let go - that was what he was holding on for. Everyone was saying their good-byes that last day in the hospital. I told my soon to be father-in-law that I hope to have his grandson one day. He had wanted another grandson to carry on his last name. Gerry's dad passed away six weeks before our wedding. If we do ever have kids, they will be told how wonderful, patient, kind, and full of life their Lolo (grandfather) was.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Mother's Day - Part 2
So it was tough yesterday. We went to Dim Sum with Gerry's side of the family at the same restaurant we announced our pregnancy two years ago. I was the woman who did not get flowers or a greeting....A few years ago I got home made Happy Auntie's Day cards and paper bracelets but the kids are growing up now.
Dinner with my mom will be next week as we had a wedding reception in the evening. It was so wonderful to see the couple so happy, now going to start a family. The bride and groom both came from families with five children. All the siblings gave heartfelt and funny speeches. I said to Gerry that I want five kids! (I had always wanted four kids but knew financially it would be tough and that was pre-infertility!). He looked at me like I was on crack. I said "okay - let's just aim for one right now, but we can always adopt like Brangelina if we win the lottery!". I want our kids to have a strong relationship with their siblings. Things we still somewhat wish for, like icing on top of the cake.
Thank you to Scarlett's mom for this posting which helped me feel not so alone.
http://hopefulworld.org/blog/in-case-mothers-day-is-hard-for-you/
in case mother's day is hard for you
written by admin may 12, 2013
(with my mom, who understood so deeply the pain and beauty of mother’s day)
Let’s be real. Mother’s Day can completely blow sometimes.
You want to be cheerful. You want to be with the program. But some years there are all these little points of pain that will not go away.
The baby you never had.
The one you gave up.
The kid you lost to something bigger than you.
The child that slipped away before you ever held her.
The one that was never born.
The one you worry you’re failing.
The one that failed you.
The one you gave up.
The kid you lost to something bigger than you.
The child that slipped away before you ever held her.
The one that was never born.
The one you worry you’re failing.
The one that failed you.
The mother who’s so close and yet so far.
The one you loved so much who couldn’t love you back.
The one you could never love because it hurt too much.
The one you lost too soon.
The one who is slipping away.
The one you can never please.
The one you wish you could live up to.
The one you loved so much who couldn’t love you back.
The one you could never love because it hurt too much.
The one you lost too soon.
The one who is slipping away.
The one you can never please.
The one you wish you could live up to.
There are no cards to honor these children or these mothers. There are no holidays to contain all the parts of you that fall outside the lines of generally understood sorrow or celebration.
But there is this moment, this incredible moment, where you can feel it all. Where for once you can’t stuff it down or forget it. Where you have to be with it, because it is not going away.
And here, my friends, is where something important happens. This is where we connect, where we understand we are frail, where we are human. Where we see in new ways what life means. Where we are issued a compelling and persistent invitation to mother ourselves. To cut ourselves the breaks we didn’t get. To ask for the help we always needed. To let tears come and say, This is how it is. I’ll ask in this one tiny moment, for the courage I need to let everything just be.
No matter what your point of pain or challenge today, I want you to know that you are not the only one. Somewhere over a silly Mother’s Day breakfast, there is a woman faking a smile who feels just like you do. Somewhere in a very silent house with no one to call, there is a woman who is tending the ache of her loss, just like you. Somewhere standing in a shower there is a woman who is feeling it all and letting the tears come, just like you.
As you go about this day, know that over here, Ria and I have candles lit for all these unspoken things, and that we are holding the space and thinking of you. You — the faraway, soulful you — will be in our meditation and in our warmest thoughts. We are sending you light and love and the deep wish that you would know today of all days, nothing is wasted and we are together in ways we cannot always see but are just as true. That the night can never last. That even in our darkest moments, there will be someday, the surprise of a laugh, a comfort, a dawn.
With so much love, hope and light,
Jen
Jen
P.S. Will you share this around? We know there are so many women who are feeling it today. And if you know you appreciate things like this, please sign up for our weekly messages athopefulworld.org/join. Our hope is that everything we send out brings radical acceptance for who you are and relieves your suffering. Thanks!
Monday, May 6, 2013
Mother's Day
Holidays are very difficult for women who have suffered from miscarriages, infertility, stillbirth, infant loss and other grief. Christmas always tends to come to people's mind. However for me, the hardest holiday is Mother's Day. Two years ago on Mother's day weekend, I found out I was pregnant after trying to conceive for almost 18 months. I thought that agony was finally over and the timing was so fitting that now I could belong to the "Mother's Day Club". We told our families the joyous news that day, and then later miscarried at almost 11 weeks.
Last year, I made my rounds at my in-laws, wishing each of the ladies a "Happy Mother's Day". An elder auntie (the same one with a number of noted comments) said it back to me, but quickly corrected herself and said "oh you're not a mother yet". Thanks for rubbing salt in the wounds. I told Gerry last month that I dread this day and really wish we could avoid it altogether.
I have been reading lately through posts from a "group" friend that Mother's Day was actually created by a group of bereaved mothers as a form of protest to ensure their sons were brought back safe from the war - a way to advocate for the safety of their children. Now it is a celebration of motherhood but the tendency is to focus on mothers who have living children. The article below is a good read and for me, "the safety of our children" transcends to the awareness of stillbirth several of my friends are advocating for through their non-profit society.
One time at a group support meeting, a few of us discussed that with miscarriages, we never really felt like a mother because we could not hold or name our baby like the "stillborn" moms. As much as I felt like a mom for those weeks I carried, it did not equate. Others said they had felt the same way at first but later felt that they became a mom at the moment of conception and to not let anyone tell me I am not a mother. In group, we all respect each other's opinions and that we each handle our loss differently so there is no right answer. For me, I do not define myself as a mother, at least for now, but highly respect those women who have lost a baby in early pregnancy who do feel that way.

http://nextgenmilspouse.com/dont-tell-me-im-not-a-mom/
Last year, I made my rounds at my in-laws, wishing each of the ladies a "Happy Mother's Day". An elder auntie (the same one with a number of noted comments) said it back to me, but quickly corrected herself and said "oh you're not a mother yet". Thanks for rubbing salt in the wounds. I told Gerry last month that I dread this day and really wish we could avoid it altogether.
I have been reading lately through posts from a "group" friend that Mother's Day was actually created by a group of bereaved mothers as a form of protest to ensure their sons were brought back safe from the war - a way to advocate for the safety of their children. Now it is a celebration of motherhood but the tendency is to focus on mothers who have living children. The article below is a good read and for me, "the safety of our children" transcends to the awareness of stillbirth several of my friends are advocating for through their non-profit society.
One time at a group support meeting, a few of us discussed that with miscarriages, we never really felt like a mother because we could not hold or name our baby like the "stillborn" moms. As much as I felt like a mom for those weeks I carried, it did not equate. Others said they had felt the same way at first but later felt that they became a mom at the moment of conception and to not let anyone tell me I am not a mother. In group, we all respect each other's opinions and that we each handle our loss differently so there is no right answer. For me, I do not define myself as a mother, at least for now, but highly respect those women who have lost a baby in early pregnancy who do feel that way.
Don’t Tell Me I’m Not a Mom

Our little angel wrapped in our arms.
Awkward is not usually used to describe Mother’s Day, but it describes mine perfectly.
On November 16, 2012 at 12:16 am, I gave birth to my first child, my daughter, Saralynn.
She was perfect: 7 lbs. 12 oz., full head of brown hair, arrived on her due date and is just the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
There was not a dry eye in the room when Saralynn entered this world and I admire my husband for cutting the cord. Our lives were changed forever.
But we didn’t get to hear Saralynn’s first cry. We will never fight over whose turn it is to changer her diaper. We will never watch her get on the school bus for her first day of school or see her walk down the aisle at her wedding.
Saralynn was stillborn.
The day before I had noticed that her movements had slowed significantly. Everything you read online and people you talk to just say that the baby is moving down getting ready to make her entrance and not to worry.
I’m a worrier.
I laid down to do a kick count and did not feel a thing. Since Saralynn was very active the day before, I called my OB and he instructed me to go to the hospital. My Grandmother and I arrived before my husband did and the nurses immediately started hooking me up to different monitors.
As soon as my OB arrived, he started scanning me with the ultrasound machine and there it was.
Nothing. No heartbeat.
As soon as he spoke the words, “there is no more heartbeat” my husband came in the room. The look on my face must have said it all to him. The OB tried to introduce himself to my husband, but he pushed right past him to get to me.
In those 5 devastating words, we became parents to an angel.
On November 21st, our families came together to celebrate the short life of a little girlwho has touched more people in unspeakable ways than those who live out their entire life.
Fast forward to today and our lives are the same as they were last year, just with a big hole that is always present. A piece of our hearts is forever gone.
Still there are words that echo in my head that were spoken to me shortly after we lost Saralynn-
“Don’t worry. One day you’ll join the club.”
They were said with good intentions and did not bother me at the time.
Now, they bother me.
I am a mother.
I became a mother that fateful Saturday in March when I went to Walgreens and bought a bag of dark chocolate M&Ms and a pregnancy test.
I became a mother when I took the best care of my unborn child that I could so she could start her life as healthy as possible. I went through labor and delivery just like every other woman does.
I have a baby.
She was real. We held her, took pictures, and admired how adorable her little hands and feet were.
I am a mother.
Yet to those who do not know me, do not know the tragedy that I deal with on a daily basis, I am childless. I have it easy. I don’t have to wake up multiple times at night for feedings. I don’t have to clean poop off the walls from a diaper blowout. Raising a child is hard and I should enjoy my freedom.
Having to bury your child isn’t exactly a cakewalk either.
We actually had her cremated. One, so she can be with the rest of the family in Wisconsin when we feel the time is right. Two, we’re military! We PCS and I am not going to leave my child in some place that we just happened to live at that specific point in time.
I have come to the conclusion that there are 2 clubs when it comes to being a mother. There’s the “I had a baby” club and the “I actually had the opportunity to raise my child” club.
What hurts the most is that it is other mothers who make this distinction. Because I do not have a live child to parade around, I am limited to the first club. I am Saralynn’s mom, but not actually a mom according to them. Do moms who lose their child due to SIDS, accident, or disease suddenly stop earning the title “Mom?” No.
Even the military acknowledges the existence and loss of my daughter. The service member’s SGLIcovers stillborns when it comes to the loss of a dependent child.
So this Mother’s Day, my first Mother’s Day, will I count to others? There is no handbook to instruct me, my friends, my family, or strangers on how to handle a Mother’s Day when it comes to someone who lost a child so early on. I won’t take offense if I don’t receive cards or text. My family celebrates Saralynn and that’s what is really important. If I receive cards or a text, I will be flattered and honored that I crossed someone’s thoughts. I will celebrate in my own quiet way as I reflect on becoming a mother to an angel.
Just don’t say I’m not a mother.
There is no denying that I am Saralynn’s mother and she is my daughter. Yet there seems to be some sort of disconnect when it comes to classifying me as a mother by others.
I know who I am. I am a mother. No one can take that away from me with their words or their actions – even inaction for that matter.
With stillbirths occurring about 1 every 166 pregnancies, the odds are someone reading this has an angel baby. This Mother’s Day, celebrate you.
Mother’s Day is meant to celebrate all mothers, with children living or deceased, biological or not.
Happy Mother’s Day.
http://nextgenmilspouse.com/dont-tell-me-im-not-a-mom/
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Childless vs Child free
Generally this is a good article however there are a few things that I would like to comment on:
1. Being childless is different from child free, and the article blends the two worlds. I've known many people from the time we were kids who never wanted children (not because they would be bad parents) and that has not changed to this day. I commend them for knowing what they want. Surely some comments as noted in the article are hurtful to them, but it is different for those who are childless for reasons outside their control. I also know couples who unsuccessfully tried to have kids naturally but felt okay with either direction their lives took. We need to be respectful that everyone handles things differently.
2. ''Oh, it is such a pity''.... ''you don't know love until you have a child''..."I wasn't complete until I had kids''. I pity myself for my situation, which is fully acceptable, so I cannot blame others who pity me so long as their "support" it is free from insensitive and hurtful remarks. Yes, if I was child free, as a feminist I fully agree that my happiness can be fulfilled without children. Being childless, I do feel a void in my life and want that type of love in my life. I cannot blame others for proclaiming how much a child has changed their life, but again people need to be mindful of remarks that are hurtful to others and feeds a society where one must have children to be content.
3. "Many childless women in their 30s want to have children, but can't due to reasons ''beyond their control'' such as not having a partner, stable relationship, or partner that wants children." Infertility, miscarriage, and stillbirth (note stillbirth parents have children, just not living) are also examples of "beyond their control" - an assumption made by many is that some drugs or IVF is guaranteed to work, and if it doesn't, then something is certainly wrong with you and therefore it is your fault. A big issue for Gerry and I as we are in the unexplained category. An off the cuff diagnosis from a non-clinician in regards miscarriage or stillbirth also places blame, e.g. not seeing the signs, too much stress, too active during pregnancy, not eating well....Even if there is a reason, why place blame? Do cancer patients with genetic dispositions or even those who chose to smoke knowing the risks, get blamed, questioned, or spoken to with such judgement?
4. "Sadly, I am acquainted with a bevy of women of varied age at the moment who are not yet philosophical or content with their childless state, and won't start to be until all avenues are exhausted at great financial, emotional, psychological and physical expense." Well to me that means that couples struggling to have a baby will and should one day be fully content as a child free couple. Those couples grieving loss, whether it is an inability to conceive naturally or with reproductive assistance, miscarriage(s), stillborn(s), or combination or all of those (yes there are couples who have suffered from all three), may never have this full acceptance/content the author assumes they must have. I read an article once that for those such couples who started to live a life much different than they anticipated - with a different definition of happiness - thought they were through the worst until the friends they reclaimed after their child-rearing years were over then later became grandparents...thus the pain resurrected.
5. Perhaps a picture without a smiling baby might attract more child less and child free couples to read this article. On the other hand, those who have kids need to read this and hey, a smiling baby is too cute to ignore.
6. I also emphasize couples, because often a man's desire to have (or not have) a family are overlooked and society therefore zones in on the woman thus creating a culture of blame for childlessness as "her fault". So evident when an older auntie kept chiding me "what's wrong with YOU?". Statistics show that infertility causes are 40% due to male factor reasons, 40% due to female factor reasons, and 20% is unexplained.
Have a read.....
A few things you shouldn't say to a childless woman

http://www.smh.com.au/comment/a-few-things-you-shouldnt-say-to-a-childless-woman-20130503-2iyj5.html
1. Being childless is different from child free, and the article blends the two worlds. I've known many people from the time we were kids who never wanted children (not because they would be bad parents) and that has not changed to this day. I commend them for knowing what they want. Surely some comments as noted in the article are hurtful to them, but it is different for those who are childless for reasons outside their control. I also know couples who unsuccessfully tried to have kids naturally but felt okay with either direction their lives took. We need to be respectful that everyone handles things differently.
2. ''Oh, it is such a pity''.... ''you don't know love until you have a child''..."I wasn't complete until I had kids''. I pity myself for my situation, which is fully acceptable, so I cannot blame others who pity me so long as their "support" it is free from insensitive and hurtful remarks. Yes, if I was child free, as a feminist I fully agree that my happiness can be fulfilled without children. Being childless, I do feel a void in my life and want that type of love in my life. I cannot blame others for proclaiming how much a child has changed their life, but again people need to be mindful of remarks that are hurtful to others and feeds a society where one must have children to be content.
3. "Many childless women in their 30s want to have children, but can't due to reasons ''beyond their control'' such as not having a partner, stable relationship, or partner that wants children." Infertility, miscarriage, and stillbirth (note stillbirth parents have children, just not living) are also examples of "beyond their control" - an assumption made by many is that some drugs or IVF is guaranteed to work, and if it doesn't, then something is certainly wrong with you and therefore it is your fault. A big issue for Gerry and I as we are in the unexplained category. An off the cuff diagnosis from a non-clinician in regards miscarriage or stillbirth also places blame, e.g. not seeing the signs, too much stress, too active during pregnancy, not eating well....Even if there is a reason, why place blame? Do cancer patients with genetic dispositions or even those who chose to smoke knowing the risks, get blamed, questioned, or spoken to with such judgement?
4. "Sadly, I am acquainted with a bevy of women of varied age at the moment who are not yet philosophical or content with their childless state, and won't start to be until all avenues are exhausted at great financial, emotional, psychological and physical expense." Well to me that means that couples struggling to have a baby will and should one day be fully content as a child free couple. Those couples grieving loss, whether it is an inability to conceive naturally or with reproductive assistance, miscarriage(s), stillborn(s), or combination or all of those (yes there are couples who have suffered from all three), may never have this full acceptance/content the author assumes they must have. I read an article once that for those such couples who started to live a life much different than they anticipated - with a different definition of happiness - thought they were through the worst until the friends they reclaimed after their child-rearing years were over then later became grandparents...thus the pain resurrected.
5. Perhaps a picture without a smiling baby might attract more child less and child free couples to read this article. On the other hand, those who have kids need to read this and hey, a smiling baby is too cute to ignore.
6. I also emphasize couples, because often a man's desire to have (or not have) a family are overlooked and society therefore zones in on the woman thus creating a culture of blame for childlessness as "her fault". So evident when an older auntie kept chiding me "what's wrong with YOU?". Statistics show that infertility causes are 40% due to male factor reasons, 40% due to female factor reasons, and 20% is unexplained.
Have a read.....
A few things you shouldn't say to a childless woman
Wendy Squires

Not all women can have babies or want to have babies. Photo: Kylie Pickett
There are two words for the woman who reached over the table, grabbed my hand and in a consolatory tone announced, ''It's a tragedy you never got around to having children. It's the most wonderful thing a woman can do.''
Those words are ''shut'' and ''up'' (the printable response) or, more charitably, ''think'' and ''first''. Because it doesn't take Freud to work out this statement was patronising, assumptive and just plain insensitive.
The would-be Buddhist in me told me these were her issues. This woman was jealous that I exist happily without children. The thought of a life without being a mother is too dark for her to contemplate. She couldn't cope without ticking that box and believes I should feel the same. She was projecting her own issues on me, transferring her pain.
But I still wanted to thump her. Hard. Not just for me, but for all childless women. I'm talking about sisters on IVF; the ones who can't carry to term; those who've suffered stillbirth or the loss of a child; the infertile; those with infertile partners; the ones hoping and waiting on a committed relationship; the ambivalent; the never intended to and don't feel the need to justify the fact.
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Most of the childless women I know do find peace with their circumstances, even if it takes some time. Until, that is, someone comes along and demands their curiosity itch be scratched as to why no kids or, worse, declares you emotionally or spiritually unfulfilled with uncalled for comments such as the one I endured.
I believe children are a gift and not a given in life, and those who receive should be grateful. They should not be offering from on high ''Oh, it is such a pity'', ''a tragedy'', ''you would have loved it'', consolations to those without - even if well intended. People need to stop and think what they are really saying to another with ''you don't know love until you have a child'', ''I wasn't complete until I had kids'', ''you are nothing without family'' or the deplorable ''don't you like children?''
A guised compliment does not a sympathetic or empathetic person make. And being a mother doesn't necessarily mean you are a good one or in a position to inform someone else that they would be. A woman's reason for being childless is her own. It is no one else's business to fill in the blanks.
A friend of mine who is a well-known celebrity understands this. I was watching when she was interviewed on TV once. The male host skipped through her bio with the clanger, ''You decided to choose career over family …'' I will never forget my friend's face, frozen in a smile that hid the angry tears I knew were welling. I was aware she had not chosen career over family as he so rudely surmised, but that she had miscarried her much-wanted baby late term and was told she would never have another as a result. Like most women there was a backstory to her situation, one that didn't need ignorant supposition to aggravate.
I was with a girlfriend who had recently been told to give up on IVF and witnessed her pain when the ''you don't know love until you have a child'' remark was dropped at a party. I have often wondered if those making the comments were aware of how they may feel if the roles were reversed and childless women asked: ''What on earth made you want do that?'' or ''it's not all rainbows and unicorns being a mother, you know''.
Sadly, I am acquainted with a bevy of women of varied age at the moment who are not yet philosophical or content with their childless state, and won't start to be until all avenues are exhausted at great financial, emotional, psychological and physical expense. Some are handling their situation better than others but all are generally tender in the company of strangers when the topic of children arises; hormonal, sensitive and often depressed, in a world of pain that does not cope well with smug assumptions.
These women are living with statistics showing they have little to no chance of conceiving, and are destined to join the ranks of the fastest-growing family type in Australia, childless. The Bureau of Statistics predicts that by 2031 the proportion of families with children will be overtaken by couples without, by 38 to 43 per cent. Yet this teetering majority is barely heard in our ''working family'' skewed society. There are no tax breaks if you are childless. None. Yet they too pay for education, baby bonuses and infant healthcare that their family will never call on.
The simple fact - not that it is anyone's damn business in the first place - is that most childless women today feel the decision was taken out of their hands through lack of financial and emotional security. According to a study in Australia's Journal of Population Health, many childless women in their 30s want to have children, but can't due to reasons ''beyond their control'' such as not having a partner, stable relationship, or partner that wants children.
Perhaps in future when judging another woman on her life choices or publicly applauding your own, these statistics should be kept in mind. Not all women are awarded the same opportunities in life and not all women want or need them. Surely we can all agree on mutual respect and consideration of circumstance as a safe middle ground.
Saturday Age columnist Wendy Squires is a journalist, editor and author. Twitter: @Wendy_Squires
Friday, May 3, 2013
Birthdays
Here is a pic of Moshi's 2nd birthday I posted on FB today. Sigh....I know the pity and judgement some people think of the childless couple when they see it, but frankly I don't care.
Happy birthday my dog-ghter :) xo
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Sisters
So sad to hear that two friends of mine both lost their sisters to cancer in the past week. Both were quite young in their early thirties. One fought her battle for years and the other was more recent and sudden, a mother of two very young children.
In other news, one of my friends from "group" gave birth to her son earlier this week (with great relief). I held back some happy tears visiting them in the hospital. He has two older sisters however one was stillborn last year. But because they keep her spirit alive, he will grow to love both of them.
Words just cannot express the loss of a sibling, the loss of a child,... at no matter what the age.
In other news, one of my friends from "group" gave birth to her son earlier this week (with great relief). I held back some happy tears visiting them in the hospital. He has two older sisters however one was stillborn last year. But because they keep her spirit alive, he will grow to love both of them.
Words just cannot express the loss of a sibling, the loss of a child,... at no matter what the age.
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