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)