Before the chance of motherhood was taken far away from me
I was young, I was in love, I had dreams, I was free
Free to make choices and plan for life ahead
If only I knew what was coming in those years instead…
At 25 I suffered my first ectopic pregnancy.
Lost my baby and my right tube and a huge part of me.
Lost many friends along the way, who didn’t want to see
The woman with no child, who struggled to conceive.
The wheel turns and life moves along.
At 26 I married my husband, our love was strong.
We wanted to try again, but I was filled with fear…
Remembering the pain and confusion from last year.
There’s no reason why you can’t try all the doctors said
A false sense of security, that’s what they all did
So being 27 I didn’t suspect a thing
When I started bleeding mid cycle, because I wasn’t in pain.
Turns out I had ruptured and once again I almost died
I felt like the doctors hadn’t listened and lied
This time the baby was in the left tube, why had this happened to me?
And now with 'no viable tubes’, infertility.
No babies, no fallopian tubes, 27 years of age.
Incandescent scarlet fury following all the colours of rage.
How can I be young, fit and healthy, unable to have a child?
All my hopes and dreams to dust, emotions running wild.
And so the wilderness years, the sobs, the tears.
The relationship breakdown because we were grieving.
The disenfranchised grief nobody was receiving.
My life without motherhood felt like it had no meaning.
We managed to find our way back to each other
Despite knowing I could never be a mother.
Adoption wasn’t an option; we had no supportive family
It was just the two of us, him and me.
I turned 34 and the lure of IVF became too much to bear
My friends all had babies, children everywhere
We remortgaged the house and paid for this treatment
That isn’t a treat but left us repeatedly defeated
One successful pregnancy, ending in miscarriage
Our twins, they didn’t stay long, but don’t be disparaged!
You lost a pregnancy, but what an almighty success
Said the doctors as we grieved the losses nonetheless
So many frozen embryo transfers, the babies never stayed
We shared with nobody, we kept all the pain
The grieving of losing those 11 small sparks of life
I felt unwomanly, a failure, a terrible wife
We ceased treatment. Our lives went on whilst we grieved.
And at 35, another shocker of an ectopic pregnancy.
Totally unexpected, pregnancy from infertility
The devastating loss of our 5th baby.
At the age of 36 there was 1 more IVF cycle planned
It failed miserably, I didn’t understand
How could I be fertile, less than a year before?
And suddenly, there’s nothing, no eggs any more.
And so I made the decision for both of us there and then
I didn’t want to try for any babies ever again
My husband understood, he couldn’t face my pain
When I had another loss, or treatment failed I felt at fault, a burden, to blame.
Working all the unsocial hours, covering school runs and maternity leave
Always first or last in the workplace, always taking on additional tasks
Witnessing colleagues baby showers during office hours whilst I grieve
Always having to cover mum to be’s workload without ever being asked
Additional work, no additional pay
Witnessing your peers as they walk away
Then when they return they work part time hours, as they planned ahead
So you never lose the workload, only accrue theirs instead.
Knowing your own family requirements at work will rarely or never be met
Because when you have no children, you’re often second best
Unable to book off Christmas, because you have no kids
Instead you cover everyone else, where is the fairness in this?
And so our lives have carried on, health has not been good
Spent many years living with grief and being misunderstood
Had people thinking we were selfish because we had no children of our own
Lost many friends along the way when their own families started to grow.
Losing all our hopes and all our dreams, its called disenfranchised grief
When you thought your life would be one way; and it changes beyond belief
When your peers drift away in the friendship apocalypse
And you remain forever on the outside, sailing a lone ship
And the years go on and now your friends have grandchildren round to play
Here again, the 2nd exodus as your friends all drift away
They’re all family units, bound by unseen chemistry
Whilst me and the husband are just two, a couple family.
There’s a pandemic and you realise that you are on your own
That even your so called close relations never call on you at home
That you are not important, not anybody’s mum
That you have no kids, so can run around after everyone!
It’s never reciprocated, never appreciated, all the things you do
It’s kind of expected because you have no kids… so you
Mop up all the excess and iron out all the issues
And are expected to provide tea, sympathy and tissues
And the years go on and all your friends have family to celebrate their milestones
Once again, they are revered and celebrated as you remain alone
Remember - they’re all family units, bound by unseen chemistry
Whilst me and the husband are just the two, we have no family
We have no one to celebrate the fact that we are here
We don’t do any birthdays or have parties because it’s clear
There would be nobody in attendance, they all have their own good sense
Because they know their own family gatherings will always take precedence
And now I’m in my 50’s and breast cancer reared it’s ugly head
For just the two of us to face, alone and without support yet again
I wonder, had I been a mother, would family rally round?
It’s been a lonely journey as I face each treatment down.
This is what you get when you have no family.
You bear witness to everyone else as they live their life journeys.
You get to see the good and bad and catch tears as they fall
But when it comes to seeing you, not many see at all.
So you need to live your life the best way that you know how
And decide who has your corner in the here and now.
Choose who you spend your precious time with in life
And cast away the disregards of others who cause you strife.
Family isn’t everything, it’s a skewed media perception
Don’t listen to the rhetoric, it’s a cleverly contrived conception.
Family are the friends you choose, who see you through the pain
The fragile friends who stick around to pick you up again.
My advice to anyone suffering who has no family?
Reach out and find your peers, we’re out here, we can see
We are all around you, hidden in plain sight
We will support you and carry you forwards towards the light.
Lighthouse Women is a place I peruse to speak about this life
To reach out to others as someone who understands their pain
Many ears and voices ready to catch hurt, humour, angst and strife
I also blog because I need to release these words within, to explain.
Baby loss doesn’t define me, nor childlessness, nor infertility.
Cancer may have paid a visit but that’s not my identity.
I am a woman who swears like a sailor, who still has dreams, who is free
Just because I’m not a mum, doesn’t mean I’m an unseen entity!
Bamberlamb aka Mary H (Lighthouse Women)
