The journey to childlessness through disability is a very varied one and this story is my own personal journey.

Some disabled women make the heartbreaking decision not to have children because of their disability. Some disabled women are advised rightly or wrongly not to have children by their medical experts. Some disabled women feel their disability was brought on or worsened because of their childlessness.

I am no expert and that is probably the tip of the iceberg. I name disability but fully recognise chronic illness, mental health and neurodiversity all play their role. Each of these in a partner may also lead a woman to childlessness. I acknowledge all that I understand here and recognise there may be many omissions. Here is my experience.

I have secondary progressive MS and over the last 20 years have gone from being mildly disabled to quite disabled to very disabled. My serious disability has progressed in the last two and a half years to the point where I now have care 13 hours a day.

People presume I am childless because I am disabled. I believe I am disabled because I am childless. My partner told me several months into our relationship that he didn’t want children and I just waited for him to change his mind. My body was screaming for a baby and I suppressed what was happening to me emotionally. Two years after we met I had my first episode of MS.

We stayed together for 15 years until 2015. I was 42. My desire to have children was an issue between us the whole time but I didn’t recognise any of what I went through with him and alone as grief until I came across Gateway Women in 2018.

My friends getting pregnant was always so difficult, but my friend with MS getting pregnant was really tough for me. My having MS was such a good excuse for my ex not to have children, but it was no excuse! I know being a mum with MS is not easy for my friend but they are wonderful parents with a wonderful child.

In everyday life, even things like a bus journey can be emotionally difficult when the wheelchair space is also in the buggy spaces so you are surrounded by children and babies.

I was hospitalised for 11 days in 2017 and two months in 2018 on a ward with other women with MS. I was 45/46, single, childless and very depressed. Both times I was hospitalised it was because I wasn’t coping at home due to my disability progressing.

The other women on the ward were all there to receive a new treatment that is currently the closest to a cure for MS. My MS has been with me too long for this treatment. I had been referred to palliative care by now (care for people who can no longer receive medical treatment, not only for those dying).

I had to endure watching these women receive a revolutionary treatment. I am over the moon that this treatment exists and others diagnosed with MS do not have to end up like me, but to sit and watch it being administered in the beds opposite and around me was extremely difficult. There are global forums for people receiving the treatment and the women would be online updating how it was going with people all around the world as well as with each other.

And then came visiting time for three hours a day. Husbands, partners and children arriving to visit their mums, all with MS. I spent most visiting times with the curtains pulled around me, headphones on often sobbing. The nurses knew and understood – I had explained it to them and I did receive very minimal mental health support while I was there.

Accessing mental health support through the NHS proved impossible – unbelievably my needs were deemed too complex! Luckily I am in a position where I am able to pay for weekly psychotherapy sessions.

Once out of hospital I entered the world of Adult Social Care. Many carers are mothers and they talk about their children a lot. When I ask them to dry my hair more vigourously or wash my face or brush my hair more firmly they say “sorry, I’m just used to doing it with my kids or old ladies.” I have huge respect for people in the care and health industry but it is such a huge part of my life that I do not want.

I had a second hospital stay in 2019 for elective surgery for a suprapubic catheter and colostomy. A nurse asked me whether I had children and when I said no she replied “that’s probably for the best in your condition.”

I have wonderful family and friends but my family live far away and I do not want them to be my carers. The same goes for my friends. I want them to be my family and friends.

The only people I am comfortable caring for me are those that are being paid to do it. The realities of being within the care system are of that it is full of kindhearted, well-meaning people that are overstretched due to huge recruitment issues.

In the UK Adult Social Care for working age adults is broken and the elderly seem to face a lottery with the quality of their care.

Ageing without children is an important topic and I have entered the world of care at a young age and have many years of it ahead of me. I have so little control over my life, yet I am able to express myself clearly and I’m vocal about my needs and expectations. It is a frustrating and lonely place to be at times.

I often wonder both whether I would be disabled at all had I met the father of my children and how different my life would be had I developed MS even if I had met the father of my children. Would my partner have had to end up my carer and my children young carers? I was certainly not in a place to be concerned by this during my childbearing years despite my diagnosis. From what I saw at the hospital they were just loving families (although I’m not dismissing the challenges they must face).

All I know is that my life is difficult and shrinking. The childless life I would love of independent travel and adventure is out of reach. I was a teacher for 22 years, most recently assistant head at a pupil referral unit until I retired on ill-health in 2019.  My interactions with young people were the most rewarding and I miss them terribly.

I am very open about my childlessness and when people ask what I do I tell them I am part of an amazing community of childless women. Gateway Women is helping me every day to live with the grief of my childlessness. The grief of a progressive illness is ongoing.

I will never know the answer to the question of which came first: the grief of childlessness or the disability but I will always believe that, for me they are linked. The “what ifs?” are never ending and acceptance is a challenging journey along which I am still very much travelling.

Nina Thair