Emily Binning

I suspect many of us have been on the receiving end of this often throw away and flippant remark, or variations of it. We all have our own different journeys. Mine started somewhat ironically with an unplanned pregnancy that ended with my beautiful baby girl being born sleeping. My life situation at the time was such that we couldn’t try again at that point and my relationship with her father didn’t survive.

What ensued was years of what is now termed social infertility where I just had to watch while everyone else had their children. It was excruciating. The flip remark that I could just have some-one else’s children completely dismissed the very deep and raw pain associated with my own loss. I think it also very patronising because implicit in it, and we get this a lot I think, is that if we really knew what having kids was like…..

And in that time, I often did have other people’s children while they went and did what they wanted to do. I might not have made it into the parenthood club, but I think, in keeping with most if not all of us, I am emotionally intelligent enough to realise that raising children is hard work and being a good parent is a full time job. But how many of those parents offering up their children would really trade places, because that is what they are effectively saying?

I’m 52 years old now, and I was 26 when I lost my little one, so I’m 26 years into this journey. I’ve thought a lot about those flip remarks that people make and what is behind them. Sometimes it is just what it is, a stupid and thoughtless remark, and we’re all guilty of making them. I remember accompanying a family member to a birthday party with her young son (why did I let myself get into those situations!). Sitting like an awkward sore thumb with no child in tow, a woman pushing her child along in a plastic car going nee naw nee naw, stopped to enquire as to my parenthood status. When I replied in the negative, the flip “Lucky you” came out. When I said that I thought she was the lucky one, I heard a sharp intake of breath from my companion who felt she better explain to the nee naw lady that I had lost a baby. The nee naw lady didn’t stick around to say sorry, so I don’t know if she was embarrassed by her remark, which was somewhat inappropriate, or if the nee nawing was simply more important and she had to get back to it.

But for some maybe the remark is more loaded. When I did get married I was 39. My age came into the conversation with the lady who was altering my dress. It was followed with an accusatory “You obviously don’t have kids then”. When I said no I hadn’t had much luck in that department (at that point social infertility had morphed into biological infertility and we were in the midst of fertility investigations) she said “Count yourself lucky” Her tone was different from the laughing nee naw lady. She sounded genuinely deflated and tired.

As time has gone on, I have wondered how meant some of those remarks are, and whether some of the makers of those remarks do actually mean them. When I Googled parental regret it was an eye opener. It is a thing. There are parents who love their children dearly, but if they could rewind the clock would make different choices. We live in a child centric society where parenthood is glorified so what must it be like if you realise you joined the wrong club?

It’s hard to know what to say to those remarks. With the nee naw lady the reply was straight forward, but when the remark is laced with resentment or real pain it’s harder. And what of the child who is being treated like a hot potato that could seemingly easily be tossed over to someone else?