Charlotte
“Kids? Goats, you mean?”
Is what my facetious self would say to that question, if I was feeling feisty, which I rarely am these days because my hopes and dreams have expired. I’ve just looked up the meaning for that word ‘facetious’ and the first description for that word says “deliberately inappropriate” before “flippant”. The meaning of flippant is: not sharing a serious or respectful attitude. Looking at the explanation of deliberately inappropriate for a moment, well that’s me– when I’ve had enough of being appropriate, of putting up, shutting up, smiling and letting people assume things about me. As regards that word ‘flippant’ – is that person that has just asked that question being respectful of me? They wouldn’t dream that they were not being so. But would it not be more appropriate to say: “Who or what do you have who or that is significant in your life?”, if that’s the type of question you wish to ask? But as I have been told before, I’m being difficult by having my own opinion, by replying in a way that suits me because it reflects me, so therefore, what actually happens is that I either just say “No” or if I’m feeling stronger I say “Sadly I cannot have children” and inside I die all over again.
I die inside because that apparently simple, socially acceptable question brings back a series of memories that hurt me just as much now as the events did at the time. The question “Have you got kids?” to me brings back the memory of the time when the person, who I probably would have called my best friend at the time, came round to my house with her husband of about 4 months and showed me a black and white picture of the little baby growing inside her. I was happy for her, but felt this great pain and emptiness inside me. It was like my body knew that I was never going to be a mother. Not only was I not married, but single and childless.
That question brings back the memory of me sitting among three ladies (who I called friends at that time, but who I now call acquaintances) on a picnic bench over a lunchtime telling them excitedly and full of expectation that I had two fertilised eggs inside me following my “its now or never” one time IVF treatment. I felt the beginnings of what I imagine great joy to be and I felt like I was going to finally be truly part of the “gang” again and become a Mum.
That question brings back the memory of 8th May 2021 when I learned that I wasn’t pregnant and I knew that I would never be truly happy again, that I would never experience great joy in my life ever. Just over four years on, I don’t feel any different if I’m honest. Don’t get me wrong, I can smile, I can laugh, I can make people smile and laugh, but that feeling of pure unadulterated, excitement, of great joy of having that near knowledge that your one true goal in life, the pinnacle, the all-time “gold medal” feeling of achievement, of self-worth of being truly accepted into the female adulthood, ultimate world of “motherhood”, No.
We are currently constantly being made aware of all sorts of different people in our society and how we should treat them with respect and understanding and make allowances for them in the workplace. But who makes allowances for the grieving childless woman who has to negotiate every single day of her working life listening to other people talk about their children and grandchildren. In my experience – no-one. I recently had a colleague say to me, when they knew I had actually been crying silently in the office kitchen mere moments before, about my childless state, “Yes, I don’t want my daughter-in-law to be like you and that’s why I’m encouraging her and my son to get on with it and not wait too long”. Wow. Where’s the empathy? Where’s the offer of a hug? Where’s the offer of a chat? No-where.
Has it even crossed HR’s mind that the “Family Fun Day” picture that is there on the firm’s intranet page which comes up on my screen every single day acts as a stab in the heart for me every single time? Of course not. Do I have the courage to ask them to change it? No. And why? Because I’m the odd one out, I would simply be being difficult, pathetic perhaps. I may even ostracise myself.
But coming back to the reference of Goats, at the beginning, I understand that G.O.A.T means “Greatest Of All Time”… is there something in there which I need to explore…? Perhaps there is…? Can I somehow turn this around?
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to express myself.
