Stephanie Joy Phillips
World Childless Week Founder
Friday 6th November is the last day of the National Fertility Awareness Week 2026 and the days’ topic is Taking Fertility Action.
In 2016 I ‘took action’ when I founded World Childless Week because I realised there was nothing to acknowledge the childless community. This realisation was underlined and highlighted when two fertility action weeks (one in the US and one in the UK ) sparked my interest and hopes of being seen, but instead each day reinforced I was not visible as a childless women. Things have changed a little, but the world still focuses on fertility and the end goal of motherhood. There is little recognition, if any, of the childless and their grief.
My primary thought is that infertility is not the sole reason to be childless, circumstances come into play for many in the childless community. For others, like myself, my childlessness was the ending to a collection of circumstances and eventually infertility.
Fertility was the last line to being a mum and the final wall to climb. But I never climbed it, instead I ran into it at full speed. It didn’t give me a caring embrace or sit me down with a cup of tea; it just stood there looking down on me with a smirk on its face, mocking my attempts to be a mum, laughing at my inabilities. It read a list of everything I wasn’t and everything I’d never experience. It ripped up the list of my dreams and all of the firsts I’d hoped to experience.
When infertility took a break society was there to remind me of how I’d failed, and reinforce that I didn’t fit in with the expected norm. I felt unseen in friendships circles, ostracised in social groups, invisible at work and became an outsider of the family chat because without children I couldn’t contribute. When society went on holiday worldwide pronatalism was happy to step forward and I couldn’t look anywhere without being reminded of my place at the bottom of the table on good days and under the table on others. I’d never be allowed to take a break or go on holiday to escape infertility, it consumed me and all that I did, it reminded me 24/7 that this was it for the rest of my life.
Over time the wall changed and morphed. I saw a door with a peephole and thought I could feel warmth on the other side but when I opened it there was another wall immediately behind, the peephole had disappeared and the cold returned. Sometimes the door was made of clear glass and see sunlight blazing through but there was no handle, the glass was unbreakable and eventually the sun set and the chill of a dark night returned. At other times it looked like the mortar was failing and I managed to pull out a brick but I couldn’t see anything but shadows and an empty void.
I felt the wall would always be there surrounding me whichever way I turned but slowly over time it changed. I could start to see the top of the wall as layer by layer, brick by brick, it reduced in height and gave me glimpses of a different life. Eventually on some days (not all) I could climb over it. Not easily as an athlete but in a clumsy way that left me fighting for breathe and a need to sit for a while on the other side.
The days I managed to climb over the wall increased and as they increased so did my ability to climb over. I didn’t need to rest for so long before getting up and seeing what surrounded me. Sometimes my breathing would increase and become erratic so I ran back over the wall quicker than I thought possible to sit again within its darkness. I found protection where once was only dread, fear and loneliness.
I didn’t notice how or when it happened but eventually the wall fell down and became rubble that could occasionally trip me but for the majority of time was a small obstacle rather than a full blockade.
Now those bricks are dust.
The dust can at times make me cough or increase in volume to create a sand storm but the wind eventually dispels it and all is quiet again.
This doesn’t mean the doors have gone. There are multiple doors of all shapes and sizes around me, but now I get to chose which ones to open and explore and which ones to leave closed for just a little longer. There are times I open a door and realise it’s not for me right now but I’ll venture in again tomorrow or next week. There are others that remain ajar but I know one gentle push is all I need to close them again. I have control over these doors and I am the only one with access to the keys.
Occasionally I see a door in front of me that I didn’t create. It can flare a moment of confusion, anxiety, annoyance, anger and sadness when I realise it is locked on the other side. But instead of frantically twisting, turning, pulling and pushing the handle in the hope of getting through I ask if I really want to open it. Sometimes I’ll gently knock or post a note through the letterbox to see if I get a response. Other days I decide to mix some mortar and build my own wall to ensure that door stays shut. It’s not always easy but I release any negative emotions one by one as I add each brick. Perhaps one day I’ll remove a brick and see if the door is still there, but perhaps I won’t, that choice and decision can be saved for another day and doesn’t need to consume my every moment.
Sometimes it can feel like standing in the middle of a building site with long delays and no finishing line, but for the majority it’s simply an ongoing construction I’m happy to be part of. It’s made me who I am and whilst there may be the odd upheaval when a contractor walks away or is removed from the site, overall I am the boss.
It can take enormous courage to climb over the walls imposed by others or built by ourselves, but when we do explore what is behind the door we don’t just find what is in front of us but within us too. Originally life without the children I dreamt of was a dark and all consuming nightmare that lay within whilst both asleep and awake and weighed down every thought and action. Now the dreams I held rest gently and safely within my heart. The tears I’ve shed and the grief I live with are recognition of the true love I held and hold for my unborn children. I can say with confidence, I deserve a spot at the top of the table.
