Anne Altamore

Lucky to not have kids?  If I had a penny for every time I have heard this over the last 30 years, I would be living in a villa on a private island somewhere.  Hearing this statement doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, but it still makes me sad…. and angry.

Sad – because in 2023 - with so much information available about the distress and mental health issues of people who have endured failed infertility treatments, and pregnancy and baby loss, people in general are still uneducated about the cost of childlessness.  Yes, the cost. The money, time, labour, trouble, emotional roller coaster, etc., of living childless not by choice.

In my desire to have a family of creation of my own, I chose to pursue over a decade of fertility treatment.  This incurred the financial cost of treatment as well as the emotional and physical costs of working through loss after loss of each failed cycle. I can’t even count the cost of lost relationships due the friendship apocalypse of fertile guilt.The cost of lost hours in not being able to get out of bed as it was just too difficult to face the day or drag myself to yet another baby shower.  The cost of my general wellbeing – physical, emotional, mental, spiritual – as I tried to make sense of the life I was in-  not the one I had hoped for.

As an older woman, hearing stories of my childhood friends retiring from their careers in the senior positions we dreamt of as children is yet another cost. The career opportunities I did not pursue as I instead embarked on yet another ride on the IVF roller coaster.

Seeing their excited photos of children’s weddings, grandchildren, and large family gatherings, I count the cost of yet more milestones lost.

Allof these are the high costs of secondary losses of infertility and not having kids.  Costs which have no end. Every year brings more reminders of the harsh reality of the choice of not seeking alternative paths to parenthood when fertility treatment failed. Mine was an informed and carefully made choice to live childless not by choice, to start over in my career, to stay with my husband. 

All choices I do not regret, but there were costs of time, wellbeing, and ghosts of dead dreams, which are irreplaceable.

Anger – because every time you say “you are so lucky to not have kids”, you are being cruel and showing your ignorance at what it means to know and experience the joys of children and grandchildren. In my ears, mind, and heart, you are diminishing the blessings of having children. The Cambridge dictionary defines blessing as “something that is very good or lucky.” So, I do not mean blessing in the religious sense. I mean you are lucky to HAVE kids. Knowing what it takes to get pregnant, stay pregnant, and bring a live healthy child into the world, every life is a blessing, and people who HAVE children are the lucky ones.

With the help of community such as world childless week, therapy, and a small circle of caring friends, I have made my peace with not having kids.  I am lucky that I found my tribe, had the ability to educate myself about grief, and the resilience to rebuild a contented life around my childlessness. I am lucky to have relationships that nurture me.  I am lucky to have opportunities to find meaning and joy. 

But please, never ever say that I am lucky to not have kids, because that has cost me more ghosts than you will ever know.  

In her eyes a sadness hides,

The flicker of ghosts no one knows.

 

Look again and the veil is down,

Cheery smile and disposition bright,

Everyone’s needs are met sunrise to sunset,

She focusses on getting things right.

 

If you see her with a faraway look in her eyes,

Know that she cries at night with thoughts not shared,

Give her a hug and tell her you care,

For her disposition bright cost many ghosts no one knows.