I said stop and no to more treatments. We had considered this for a while, reflected upon this – now the doctors also recommended it; they could see no reason for us to continue. Our decision became somewhat easier to make.
It has probably been – it was my life’s most difficult decision – and ours – my husband and mine’s most difficult decision.
No more treatments. That was one thing – no more hormones, no more injections, no more waiting time if there were any eggs, if the eggs had been fertilized, if the eggs stayed in my uterus. We were not able to continue. It was so hard. I had never imagined that. And I had never thought that I would give up.
But a stop and a no meant that we never will become parents. I will never be a mother.
And please don’t come up with the great suggestions on how it is still possible. I have checked it. I have tried it. I will not become a mother. Never ever.
And so what, did they say, think about all the things that you can do that we cannot. Think about your great job, your friends, your family. Your opportunity to experience, to travel. To sleep in. To not be woken during the night.
I was not there. I was grieving – deep grief. Maybe you can understand. Maybe you cannot. Never ever to be able to feel my child’s skin, hear its voice, laugh and laugh – and cry absolutely wildly and worry crazily. Be angry and love.
The grief of never becoming a mother that I will carry the rest of my life. The grief is part of me.
In my surroundings I hear and I read – and people tell me; You would have been great parents, to become a parent is the most meaningful which has happened in my life, only when I became a mother I realized what life really is about, then I really loved. It was only then I became a grown-up.
Once in a while in glimpses there are people who I feel understand what I say. And I feel seen and understood. Often it is hard to communicate so it is understood – for many it seems that it was just a project we did not succeed with or a dream that was not fulfilled. It is not. I am not a mother.
Often, I feel excluded – even the most ordinary conversations at the lunch table with the colleagues can sometimes hurt deeply; I cannot contribute with my story about the children in school, about online classes during Covid19 lock-down, about the confirmation, about the party celebrating the A-levels. When the colleagues show their new born babies, I am so happy on their parts and at the same time it hurts deeply. I will never become a mother. Never ever.
What should I then do with my life? Get a hobby. Do something that matters to you; for example visit lots of good restaurants. Yes, maybe, that is absolutely fine. Quite fine. I enjoy good food, visiting new places. Meeting new people and travelling and exploring.
But it is not it. I want to find something else that is meaningful in my life. I am doing that, slowly. But it is coming. What can I do. I will find out. I will find a different path – our path – in our lives. I am not there yet. Occasionally I think I am there. At least that I am close and nearby.
Sometimes it hits me. Some weeks ago, I wrote a letter to my unborn children. I said farewell to them. I told them that I missed them and that I would always be there for them. I read it for some other women. They
don’t have children either. They also wanted children. In that one hour we were mothers, who read letters to our children whom we have never met and will never meet. We come from different places in the world and we felt the sense of community strongly and we were each of us understood and contained. We held each other’s pain.
I have a good life. I enjoy and feel happiness. And life smiles at me. It does. Most days. I am healthy. I have a wonderful husband and great friends and a good family. I have wise and great colleagues, whom I enjoy working with. I can spend time in nature. I can listen to music. I can exercise and do sports.
It was myself – ourselves, who said stop and no to more treatments. We took the choice in not becoming parents. No, it was not like that. It was a choice of no more treatments – not a choice of not becoming parents. I cannot do everything, no matter how much I fight and work for it. And no, not everything happens for a reason.
Cecilia Rebild