Perhaps my story is like so many others’ out there, and yet it is still painful to tell. As a little girl, of course I followed and loved the stories of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and all of those famed fairlytales where the lovely young lady meets her handsome prince charming and falls in love. I of course assumed the same life course, waiting and hoping for when I got older and how someday I would meet my handsome future husband, get married, have a home with a white picket fence and two children. I never believed in any less for myself. I was always a little shy and reserved, which has made meeting people a little tough, not to mention my overly protective parents who forbid me from dating until I was 17. Regardless, I did have interest from boys in school and men as I got older, and had met who I thought was “the one” in college. I put off a more intensive college major, seeing that my true goals in life were to get married and have children in my 20’s. I am in awe of people who know what type of work they want to do, as I was never sure what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. But the one thing I DID know for sure was motherhood. That was never a doubt.
My boyfriend and I were together for over seven years and I had assumed we would get married, but we ended our relationship when I was in my mid-20s. I was somewhat devastated but determined to move on. It took me a couple of years to really get over him. What made it hard too was that I was ready to have children at the age of 26, but there was no one special in my life. At this point I was in grad school, but it seemed people were already paired up or not interested in dating. Well, I did have one date but it didn’t go well. It was right after my breakup and looking back, I probably said a few things on the date that gave the guy pause!
Once I started working, I did have some relationships but I knew that it wasn’t with anyone I could see myself with or end up marrying. I feel like I wasted so many years being with men in this situation. It wasn’t fair to them or to me. In the time I spent in those relationships, I should have been happy being single or at least attempting to seek out someone who shared some of the same values, ideals, etc. Was I being too picky? Maybe. But I also felt like I had some good things to offer, such as intelligence, education, independence, financially self-sufficient, caring, honesty, even-tempered, and attractive. I spent way too many years in these types of relationships and wasted my time, in a sense. But even with all of my attempts at meeting the next “one”, it never seemed to work out for me. My older sisters were lucky and married their college boyfriends and had children, though one did struggle conceiving and required the help of science.
Still being the marriage “holdout” of my family of origin, I met a man eight years younger than me one evening after work. Although I wasn’t sure about him, I gave him my number anyway. He called and while I wasn’t really interested, he kept calling and we would just talk to the point where almost a friendship blossomed. He essentially chased me for a while and well, we have been in a relationship for a very long time. There were times I wanted to call it quits, and I did, but then I always had this fear that at my age, I was never going to meet someone else. It’s such a crazy thought, and I will tell anyone now, it doesn’t matter how old you are! There is always someone out there for you. But sometimes it’s better just to be alone. You will be ok.
My biological clock was undeniably ticking loudly; at one point I was just absolutely determined to try to have children with him. I had told him from when I first met him that I was ready for it and that’s what I was looking for, but then he never took steps towards marriage. I went along for the ride and always thought that I’m healthy and can put it off, money, we’re not married, it’s not good to make ultimatums, etc. I always had an excuse for putting it off. I went back and forth about ending the relationship to find someone on the same page as me. Something always drew me back to him.
The relationship has had a lot of ups and downs and to this day, he wants to get married, but I have some hesitations. But we did try to have children together. We went through three IUI and five IVF cycles. I had one pregnancy that ended in an early miscarriage. I went to the final appointment alone, but I was able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Even if my relationship didn’t last, I was happy to finally have a chance at what I had always wanted. But it wasn’t meant to be.
I have carried the weight mostly in silence. Only a few friends knew of my IVF, not even my family or my own mother. I have a sense of shame from my situation and so I have kept things to myself. Do I blame myself; yes somewhat. I was just doing what I thought was right for me. All along I wanted to do things the “right” way by getting married first, to Mr. Right, then having children. It didn’t quite work that way. A lot of times I made myself think I was the “extra” child to my parents since I was the only one not married and without children. I struggle with where to go from here. What's next, what do I want? I still don't know, but I need to find that next path of a life without children. Few friends, if any, understand the pain and desire to have a family. It’s a burden I think about almost every day. I know that there are other options for having a child in my life, and I did some serious soul-searching and did not find them to be right for me. I envy those with children almost daily and grieve for not being able to pass on my memories, my wisdom, my legacy, to a child of my own.
Anonymous
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