Alana
The dinner was delightful. The venue was lovely. The company was pretty good. The conversation was easy. The night was young.
And then before I knew it, THE QUESTION was being asked. My heartbeat faster. My face flushed pink. I felt my armpits sweating. My breathing changed. My mouth was dry. The words took their time to come. I sighed, (an action I’ve practised to give myself time) and prepared myself to answer the question… yet again.
For 29 years I have been asked this question. For 29 years I have caught my breath. Sometimes I’ve stood up taller. Sometimes I’ve shrunk my shoulders down lower. Sometimes, I’ve shaken my head and looked down. I never want to answer this question. I don’t want to say “no”. I truly don’t. Sometimes the person has just finished talking about their own children in glowing terms and they turn to me and ask, “Have you got kids?” so the “no” that I answer, just fades under their shining ‘child-filled glow.” The word is gone. It only takes one syllable to say the word, to breathe the word out, in a voice I wish was not my own. Sometimes the “no” is spoken softly. Sometimes whispered. Sometimes clearly and concisely. It all depends on how I feel I'm going to get through this moment. Will I just say, no or will I explain? Will I say more or less? This question always gets me. It always…kills me.
Answering this question defines me, identifies me, puts me on a platform that I never wanted to be on. It puts me in a group, a category, a place…my place. My world. My life. Now I feel compelled to explain why I’m different- to tell of my heart ache, my journey, my story but no I won’t. I only want the person to know that I don’t have children and I never wanted that to be my answer. I never would have chosen this. I did not choose this. But it is who I am. Childless not by choice.
Over the years, I’ve thought there must be better ways I can answer this awful question so that it leaves me in a better frame of mind too.
One idea I had was to lie and answer like they do. Imagine that!
“Yes. My daughter's 28. She lives in Melbourne and has two beautiful children. My son’s at university and studying teaching.He and his wife are expecting their first child any day now. My other daughter, yes, she’s doing really well with her sport. My youngest is doing his trade as a mechanic.” I would love to lie and see what reaction I get. But of course I won’t.
The other idea I had was to make up some little cards.
A card that says something like- “My husband and I wanted desperately to be parents but we are not able to. We've found ways to move forward with our lives even though every milestone we see others experience, bring us fresh pain and hurt.” Or a card that is really factual. “On the 10th May 1996, the doctor told us we would never be parents.” I could have it right in my handbag ready to go, so the minute they ask THE QUESTION, I could just pull out the best card for the situation and the person, hand to them and they can sit there and read through the card. Could do that too. But I probably won't.
Most times I just wish I could get out of there. Wish I'd never come to a setting where there were strangers. (Alana, you knew it was possible the question could be asked!) Wishing I was at home, sitting alone, in my quiet, empty home, away from the buzzing in my ears, the tension in my chest and the overwhelming sadness of having to answer that question yet again.
